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“I ended up taking it. Trent would want it that way.”
“True.”
“So what do you say? Are you up for some treasure hunting?” Suddenly, the idea of doing this with Cheryse sounded appealing.
“I don’t think so.”
All the wind instantly went out of his sails. “Why?”
She gestured to her foot. “Not really in treasure-hunting shape.”
“I’ll carry you.” Half-heartedly, he poised and flexed his bicep.
She waved a hand in dismissal. “I can’t handle treasure hunting Stone style. So what else did Trent say?”
Hunter shook off his disappointment. He marked another spot on a piece of wood and let it drop. “Too many things. He’s background noise in my head most of the time.”
She sat on her scooter and used the steering wheel to prop her foot up. “So he really talks to you?”
Hunter grunted. “Well, the truth is, whether he is alive or dead, my brother’s way of seeing things will always be with me. I reckon all the beach crew have each other in their heads from time to time.”
”You’re probably right.” She snorted. “I can always tell when you say something that Trent would have said, because it doesn’t sound like you.”
“Really? What do I sound like?”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing this.”
Now he was even more interested. “I think you are, ’cause you just did.”
Cheryse maneuvered herself back to standing and propped her knee on the scooter. “No, I’m not.” She moved back around the house.
“Reese, c’mon.”
She paused, then turned back. “Fine. You want to know the difference between you two? Trent was more showy and braggy than you. Not that you couldn’t be showy—you can be—but you were never really in your face about stuff with people. You were … are …”
Hunter held his breath. It was ridiculous how important these words were to him.
“Funny, but in a toned-down way. A more deadpan way. If we were hanging out, you were like a comedian, building on the joke all day long. Trent was in your face, wanting to give the finale every time.”
He liked her assessment. "I can agree with that."
“I always felt like I connected with you more when I told you about my … first husband, and …” She paused, getting choked up.
Her tears undid him. He moved to her side. “Reese.”
“It’s okay. When I first told you and Trent about everything and how I’d accidentally killed him, you just held me for a long time.” She sniffed. “Trent ranted and raved and did push-ups and talked about how he wished he wasn’t dead so he could kill him, but you … you just held me.”
Hunter remembered that night. Her body had been shaking, and she had looked so broken. Unable to do anything else, he had pulled her into a hug. “You were so brave during all of that.”
She inhaled a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m having this reaction. It’s been so long.”
He kept her against him, relishing that she was letting him hold her. “Grief has no timetable. That’s what I’ve heard from Kensi.”
She had said it to him often when he drifted off to la-la land, trying to contain something he didn’t want to deal with. Kensi had been the only one who tried to talk to him about feelings he didn’t want to talk about.
“Kensi is amazing,” Cheryse said, putting a gentle hand against his cheek.
Her touch did funny things to him, and he immediately wanted to kiss her. She was staring at his lips, too. But he took a step back.
