“We get free dinner, too.” Before I can respond, she speaks softly to the host and swipes my room key from him. It’s pressed into my waiting hand, then she nods toward a small hallway and a sign for the elevators. “I’ve got a few things to wrap up down here. Go ahead and get settled in your room, and then I’ll holler when I’m done. Probably about an hour, if that’s okay?”
“More than okay.”
My room is simple but stunning, and I’m high enough for my balcony to afford me one hell of a view, palm trees and swimming pools basking in the sun. I leave it behind because my ride has left me with the need for a shower. The pressure is perfect, and the steam soothing, and when I stroke myself, it’s a little of both. My body has demanded attention like this more often lately, and I’m not stupid enough to pretend I don’t know why, only grateful that I have the privacy to do something about it.
By the time I’m out, it feels good to escape the heat and wear nothing but a towel when I perch on the side of the bed and retrieve my phone from the nightstand. There are emails waiting for me, but I ignore them to open a message Darren sent a fewminutes earlier.
Hope you and Lucy are having fun. We miss you here
Theweis significant, and I appreciate the reminder that Darren and I are only two friends among a group of them. With the gallery opening behind them, it’s possible Beau and Adrian will show up at Trailhead tonight, laughing with Noah while Darren and Riley keep the drinks coming. I’m missed because we all have fun with trivia night, and they like my company as much as I enjoy theirs. My usual appearance at the bar wouldn’t have turned into more than that.
Not tonight. And maybe Darren will only ever come over after a special occasion.
I miss all of you too. Lucy and I are going to dinner soon.
His reply comes faster than it should while he’s working.Check in with me later?
It’s easy to agree to that, and once I have, I drop my phone onto the bed and get dressed in something nice enough for any restaurant in the resort. My beard is already trimmed, my hair is simple to style, and I smell like hotel body wash and the deodorant I’ve worn since my wedding. I figure I’ll have more time to kill and consider starting up a conversation with Noah or Beau, but then Lucy lets me know she’s done with work and several steps beyond hungry, so I get directions to the seafood restaurant on the opposite side of the building.
She steals another hug from me—or it’s the other way around—before we get ushered past several hellos and into a small booth, Lucy treated well by people who seem to like hera lot. Even fully aware of how protective I can be, the sight of it relaxes me more than I knew I needed, and I take a long, slow breath after thanking the hostess for the menu I’m given.
“I’m fine, dad. Good, even. It’s good here,” she says.
I don’t have a chance to respond right away. A server stops by to recite the specials and offer us a wine recommendation we eagerly accept. In the quiet that follows, I find a macadamia crusted mahi-mahi entrée calling my name, and Lucy probably knew what she wanted before texting me, so we both place our orders when our bottle arrives, and then she sits back to study me.
But I cut her off with my hand in the air. “I didn’t actually come here to check on you. Not like that. I’ve believed you every time you’ve told me you’re doing well.”
“I believe you believed meandI think it’s already done you some good to see it for yourself, even in the short time you’ve been here.”
“It has.”
She nods with a wine glass in her hand, but doesn’t take a sip. “When we talked, you also swore you weren’t coming to drop some kind of life-changing news in my lap. I mean, that was a hell of a meal we had when you and mom told me about her diagnosis, but—”
“I seem to recall you treating us to a very nice dinner once upon a time,” I say when she trails off. “Probably the opposite of what we did to you, but yes, I can see why you’re concerned about my visit.”
“So, youdohave something to say,” Lucy smiles. “You’re just classifying it a few notches below ‘life-changing.’”
I drink some of the wine she’s ignored, and then I make the eye contact we both need. “I crashed one of my Harleys last month. I’m obviously fine now, and it wasn’t even that bad at the time.”
“Go ahead. Fill in the blanks.”
“I was on a late-night ride, just clearing my head. On the off-ramp, an animal ran across the road. I swerved and ended up in the dirt with the bike on top of me. My phone was busted, and I didn’t want to wave anyone down for help, but I was also too far from home to walk, so I went to Trailhead instead. Darren was just closing the bar and had the time to patch me up.”
Lucy narrows her eyes. “He’s a bartender, not a doctor.”
“And I’m stubborn,” I shrug. “He did what he could, and then he drove me home and stayed in the guest room just in case I needed anything. I was up early the next morning, went to work, and had a friend check me out there. All is well.”
If it’s possible, her eyes narrow all over again. “You let someone stay the night?”
I want to repeat the part about the guest room, but the truth feels a lot like a lie. The image of Darren on his knees—any of the times it happened the night of my accident or afterward—warms my entire body, and I trade wine for water to clear my throat.
“He threatened to get all of Trailhead involved if I didn’t.”
“Ah, so he’s stubborn, too.”
I let that slide. “Everything is fine now. I’ve got a scar on my legand a busted bike, and one bothers me more than the other.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here to tell me about both.”