Page 83 of Enticing Her Love

“Sort of, but not as close as I am to my dad’s parents. My mom’s parents live in Illinois and have very old-fashioned values. They’re good people, and I love them, but they’ve never really understood how we were raised.” He pointed to the picture of the younger couple. “That’s my mom and dad.”

“I could tell. They look nice, and happy.”

“I think they are. They’re always holding hands, and the way they look at each other is pretty special. They still travel a lot, but I see them when they’re around.”

She pointed to the pictures of him and Victory. “Is that Harvey?”

“Yes. He was a good man,” he said thoughtfully.

“I don’t see any pictures from your travels. Do you keep them someplace else?”

“I don’t have many of them.”

“Why not?”

“At first I was hiding, and I didn’t want pictures. I’ve always believed in living in the moment, you know? Taking in what you could. When I reclaimed my identity, I enjoyed my experiences, but I have memories. I didn’t need pictures. I wasn’t traveling to show off or share it with others.”

“Then why did you take so many videos of us with your personal camera?”

He rubbed his scruff, shaking his head. “I need to learn to lie if I’m going to keep hanging out with a reporter.”

“Why?”

“Because you caught me. One day my memories are going to fade, and I never want to forget that trip.”

She felt a little giddy at that, but it was such a big confession, she didn’t know how to respond, so she said, “Oh. I like knowing that,” and let them both off the hook, moving on to a safer subject. “Do you have more pictures from when you were growing up?”

“I’ve got a ton. My mother’s a photographer, remember? She gave us all photo albums from when we were growing up.” He plucked a couple of them off the bottom shelf. “We can look at these after we eat. Why don’t you take them out, and I’ll grab the rest of the food and meet you out there.”

“Okay.” She turned to walk out, and he tugged her back.

“Forget something, Steele?” He leaned in for a kiss, then swatted her ass. “Now you’re free to go.”

She was grinning like a fool as she headed outside. The lights sparkled against the night sky, giving the evening a romantic flare. She set the albums on the lounge chair and heard a noise she couldn’t identify coming from inside the house. She wondered what Flynn was up to. She gazed out at the water, and a few minutes later, he joined her, carrying a tray with their veggies and fries, all the fixings for hamburgers, rolls, and two enormous milkshakes.

“Are those chocolate shakes?” There was no hiding her excitement as he set the tray on the table.

“No, they’re chocolate–peanut butter shakes. I remember you dreaming about them in the rainforest.”

“Is this all part of your evil plan, too? Spoiling me to make sure I never leave?” She sidled up to him as he took the burgers off the grill.

“Yes. I’m going to need a list of all your favorite things.” He sealed that request with another kiss.

An hour later Sutton sat between Flynn’s legs beneath a blanket on a lounge chair by the water, looking through one of the photo albums of a young Flynn and his family. There were adorable pictures of Victory holding Flynn when he was an infant, of Flynn sleeping on his father’s chest, and as a toddler lying with his mother in a hammock. She marveled at the photos of Flynn and his grandfather wearing similar hats and jackets, crouched by plants as if inspecting them, and of Flynn, Seth, and Clay wielding sticks like swords, while Noah played with a truck in the grass. Sutton nearly melted at a picture of Flynn at maybe seven or eight years old, and Noah, who looked to be about three or four, sitting on a hill with a full moon behind them. Flynn had a book open on his lap, and Noah was shining a flashlight on the pages.

“I remember this one.” Flynn pointed to a picture of himself hanging from a tree branch by his legs above a mud puddle, his striped T-shirt bunched around his ribs, his long hair hanging inches from his face. Below him sat a furious Victory in the middle of the puddle, covered in mud. Her mouth was open like she was yelling, and Clay was a few feet away, bent over in hysterics.

“What did you guys do to her?”

“Nothing. I was just hanging there, minding my own business, and Clay came tearing through the bushes like a bat out of hell. He jumped the puddle, and then Victory burst through the bushes, running after him. She slipped on her ass.” Flynn laughed. “She was so mad.”

Sutton laughed and shook her head. “As a sister who’s endured plenty of crap from my own brothers, I feel for her.”

“Yeah, but she’s tough. She got him back. She dumped a bucket of mud on him while he was sleeping.”

“Oh no. Your poor parents had to clean that up.”

“Hey, if you raise kids in the woods, they’re going to get dirty.” He turned the page, revealing a picture of himself at maybe three or four years old, sleepy eyed and pink cheeked, sitting on his father’s lap by a window. His head was tilted back, and his father’s eyes were closed as he kissed the top of it.