Page 73 of Under Pressure
“It’s a piece of art.”
“Why are you here?” She had to know. Showing up on the eve of her wedding couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Why are you marrying Jonah?” The question was judgy, but sounded like he just sincerely wanted to know.
Still, she rolled her eyes. “What is it with people asking me that?”
“You love him.” Not a question. It took her off-guard.
“Yeah.” She nodded and glanced at his brown steel-toed workman boots. He’d been honest with her before and she felt the need to do the same. “That and he’s safe. He can’t hurt me.” And she couldn’t hurt him. It was a win-win, really.
Sean’s eyes flicked up to hers, and for just a moment, she could’ve sworn he looked like he’d just been gutted—but whatever it was she saw, it was gone too quickly for her to be sure. “I’m happy for you. You deserve to feel safe.” He stepped back. “I better go.”
She reached out and grabbed his thick bicep, preventing him. “Sean, why’d you come?”
He let out a deep breath, then turned those hazel eyes of his on her. In a flash, he went from resigned to decided. He faced her again, stepping into her personal space as he did. It wasn’t intentional, at least she didn’t think it was, but he didn’t step back, and she didn’t release her hold on his arm. He was so close now, she could almost taste the salt water smell surrounding him on her tongue.
He stared at her, his gaze running over every inch of her face, and though he wasn’t touching her, it was the most intimatething she’d experienced in years. It was like he was trying to memorize every curve. Absentmindedly, she realized she was doing the same with him—from the hazel of his eyes to his thick brow and strong jaw to those dimples that had always made her knees wobble when he smiled.
“I had an epiphany today,” Sean said in a whisper, increasing the intimacy of the moment. “I was in the ocean, doing what I love more than anything. My life flashed before my eyes, and even though I haven’t seen you in years, you were at the very center. You were all I could think about.”
Blue’s breath hitched. She broke eye contact and stepped back. “I’m marrying Jonah.” She was moving on with her life. Finally. She was breaking out of this holding pattern she’d been in since forever, since Sean had stomped on her heart all those years ago, and was going to live.
“I’m not trying to stop you.” He cradled her head in his hand, his callused fingertips brushing over her jaw sending goose bumps down her arms, until she looked up at him again. And heaven help her, she leaned into his touch. “I want you to be happy, and if that’s with Jonah, then so be it. But I had to tell you.”
“What?” she heard herself saying.
He swallowed hard, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ve never stopped loving you.” Her breathing came up short as he leaned in, and gently placed a kiss on her forehead. And then, like earlier today, he was gone.
And like ten years ago, Blue felt her world pull out from underneath her. He was down her stairs and out of sight around a corner before her jumbled thoughts finally caught up with her and she was able to focus on what was most important. Sean never stopped loving her. And he was running away—again. And this time, no preparation, parachute, or ocean below would save her from the fall.
16
Chapter 16
Don
“What time is it?”
Don sat on the hard and completely unyielding metal bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees while trying not to breathe too deep the pungent smell of B.O. that surrounded him. He shifted so he could lift his watch and look at the time. “2220 hours,” he told Harry.
Harry spun around so fast, he nearly lost a croc—one argyle sock had fallen around his ankle, but the other held on around his calf. “I’m in jail for you Don, the least you could do is give it to me in civilian speak.”
The guy who’d been lying drunk as a skunk on the one bench in the cell when they’d been brought in—and the source of theB.O.—called out from his new spot on the floor, slurring his words. “Yeah, Donnie, give it to mem in cibilian.” He slid down the wall and into the bars of the adjoining, empty cell that they’d been told was for women with a clank that made Don wonder if the guy had a metal plate in his head.
Don shot the loudmouth a look. The same look that had gotten the guy to vacate the bench a few hours earlier, but this time it did no good. He was passed out again, head tilted back, mouth hanging open.
“Ten-twenty,” Walt muttered from the other side of Don.
Harry pointed to Walt. “Thank you. Was that so hard?”
“I’m going to get us out of this,” Don promised.
Harry pushed his round glasses up his nose. “We’ve been in here for almost four hours. Anytime you want to put that plan into motion, I’m all for it.” He lifted his fist in the air like a Rastafarian. So dramatic.
Don leaned back against the concrete wall and folded his arms.
Harry pointed at him. “Don’t flex your big arms at me, it’s your fault we only have one call left out of the three of us.”
