Page 133 of Anton

“Are you ready?”

A humorless laugh catches in my chest. “Not even close. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but I have to do this.”

His thumb passes over my knuckles before he releases me and climbs out. By the time he reaches my side, I’m still frozen in the seat, my fingers wrapped around the seat belt.

Anton opens my door and holds out his hand. I take it and force myself onto unsteady legs, letting him guide me across the street toward the plain brown door. I have no idea whether the person living here knows anything about my family, but this address is the only lead I have.

The house seems smaller up close and even more weathered, with paint flaking from the porch railing and a flowerpot beside the steps holding a plant someone has fought to keep alive through the heat.

Anton knocks, and my pulse begins pounding against my skull.

A woman, maybe in her sixties, answers a few seconds later, her blonde hair clipped away from her face. A welcoming smile starts to form, but her attention shifts from me to Anton and she hesitates.

“May I help you?”

Every word I practiced during the drive vanishes the instant she faces me.

“Hi. I’m sorry. This is probably going to sound strange.”

Her face softens. “That’s all right.”

“I think…” I stop, swallowing around the dryness in my throat before trying again. “I think I grew up in this house, or at least lived here when I was little. My parents passed away a long time ago, and I don’t really know much about them or where I came from, so I’m trying to find out who I was, I guess.” The words tumble out too quickly, chased by a nervous laugh. “Sorry. I feel like I’m unloading on you, and you don’t even know me.”

“Oh no, sweetheart.” Her gaze flicks to Anton again, taking in the black clothes, the tattoos… I can just imagine what she’s thinking. “You’re more than welcome to come in, though I’ll warn you, the house is a mess.”

“No, no. We don’t want to bother you. I only wanted to ask if you knew anything about the people who lived here before you, but it would have been over twenty years ago. Their names were Mara and Wesley Hale.”

The woman’s expression turns apologetic almost immediately, and whatever small bit of hope I had been holding on to sinks before she even answers.

“I’m sorry, but those names don’t sound familiar at all. I’ve lived here for about ten years, and before that, I was in Georgia, so I really don’t know anything about the family who owned it that far back.”

“All right. Thank you anyway.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Thank you.”

Anton’s touch returns to my back as we step off the porch, and I make it halfway down the walkway before the house next door catches my attention. I find myself being drawn to it for some strange reason.

“Do you mind if we knock on that one too?”

Anton follows my line of sight before turning back to me. “We can knock on every door on this street if you want. I wasn’t planning to leave yet.”

His words make my chest ache. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Anton goes completely still. Actually, I think he’s starting to turn pale.

Shit. Why did that come out of my mouth?

“Oh my God.” My eyes enlarge as my face burns. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, you know, thank you. Wow. That came out wrong.”

His eyes darken as his arm circles my waist and draws me flush against him. “Say that again.”

My pulse jumps. “What?”

“Say it again.” There’s no teasing in his tone, only that brooding intensity that makes it impossible to look away.

My hands travel up his chest and into his hair, and I rise onto my toes until my mouth hovers near his, the tension in his body pressing into mine.