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“I can date you here at home since I can’t stop myself from touching you.” At least he didn’t sound the least bit bothered by my asking him to stay closeted up with me for that length of time.
Needing to see him, I rolled over.
He cuddled me close against his chest, smoothing my hair off my forehead, nothing but contentment in his eyes.
“You’re sure?”
“I thought I could wait for you forever but couldn’t, which is why I pushed for an answer tonight. But on this? As long as I have access to you, your smile, your laughter, and your kisses, I’m fine holding off on telling anyone else. But like I said, I’m pretty sure our parents already know.”
I sighed and pressed my cheek against his chest, snuggling into my favorite spot in the whole wide world.
My cell sounded from my bedside table, shooting adrenaline into my bloodstream, since it could only be one person. Jacqueline had never been a day late in calling me, but she’d been surprising me with change since retiring.
“If that ringtone reminded me of horror and death, I’d think Jacqueline knew we were talking about her,” Drake joked, but I didn’t laugh.
“I, uh, switched it to default after our talk last Friday.” I started to shift away, but Drake kept me close.
“Ignore it for tonight. It’s late.”
Tension riddled my body, but the cell went quiet. I exhaled loudly but didn’t bother relaxing against Drake.
It went off again as expected.
“She won’t stop until I pick up.”
“Fuck,” he muttered the word in my head and loosened his hold on me as I moved from his warmth.
Rolling to my opposite side, I reached for my cell.
“Is it her?” Drake asked when I didn’t answer right away.
“No,” I said, surprised. “It’s a New York area code though.”
The phone went silent, and I moved to set it back down.
It rang a third time.
“Shit.” I swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Is this Preston Casswell?” A voice I didn’t recognize asked, all official and calm.
Regardless of his steady tone, hairs raised on my nape, and I sat up, swinging my legs off the edge of the bed.
“Yes?” I suggested even though I no longer considered myself as such. I’d been a Gibbons for over two years. My heart beat in my throat, the rush of adrenaline-laced blood whooshing in my ears.
“Who is it?” Drake rolled closer, placing his hand on my back, but for the first time, his touch didn’t keep me grounded.
I didn’t believe in premonitions or even a sixth sense, but suddenly, I knew.
I caught the man’s name and that he claimed to be one of Jacqueline’s lawyers. The rest of his words echoed in my head until I made sense of them.
Your mother and her husband Devlin were killed in a helicopter crash yesterday afternoon.
My lungs emptied with a rush, and I sagged, reality sweeping over me like a tidal wave—yanking me under.
“Preston!” Drake grabbed the cell from my falling hand. “What the fuck—who the hell is this?” he barked, but I blocked out his voice, curling into a fetal position on the edge of the bed, my eyes dry as the undertow dragged me into a raging sea.
Chapter 32
