CHAPTER TEN

ADDIE

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Rhys cheated.

I realize as much a whole week later when I find myself in the passenger seat of his truck watching the highway wind out behind us.

To be fair to myself, I never stood a chance when he broached the subject that lazy afternoon in my apartment. He picked me up from work on his bike. We stopped for tacos at our favorite takeout place and went back to my apartment just as the rain started. The soft patter filled the cramped space as Rhys kissed me that way he knows fucks with my senses. It's always the cause of my clothing issues — they come off too quickly.

But this time, he went in with a plan. He nestled between my thighs, his tongue swirling in teasing figure eights between my opening and clit. He had a finger in my pussy and a vibrator in my ass. I wasn't even listening when he made the suggestion we carpool to Mom and Oz's house that weekend, especially when he followed the question with a sweep of his tongue over my swollen muscle. I would have agreed to anything.

"You play dirty," I grumble, arms folding across the soft material of my hoodie.

Rhys smirks from behind the wheel. The sun reflects off the black frames of his glasses with the tip of his head in my direction.

"You said yes like nine times. You sounded really excited about the idea."

Despite my best efforts to maintain my annoyance, my lips twitch. "I wasn't saying yes to this."

"No?" The hand on my naked, upper thigh squeezes. The fingers have been steadily climbing higher beneath the hem of my skirt since we left my apartment and were now angling to slide under the elastic of my panties. "Well, this is definitely awkward then."

I'm not angry with him. I'm not even upset about the situation. I love that I get to spend three hours with him. Carpooling from the same city to the same town made all the sense in the world, but it isn't normal for us. It's going to raise questions and speculations. What if Mom takes one look at my face and knows I've been climbing her stepson like a jungle gym?

I know I'm being crazy. I'm overthinking a perfectly reasonable thing, but my gut is in knots. I'm so nervous my bladder has shriveled up to walnut size. The fact that Rhys is calm about this should be making me calm, but it's only infuriating me because I feel like I'm the only one freaking out.

"Hey," Rhys squeezes my thigh again to get my attention. "I promise you, no matter what happens, I'll be there. We'll get through it together."

He's been saying it for days and I believe him, but...

"If Mom hates me..." I don't miss the way my voice catches on the confession.

"That's not going to happen, baby. She might be confused at first, but she could never hate you."

I place my hand over his and give a little squeeze.

I love the wild landscape Oz owns deep in the belly of nowhere and nothing. The small square footage of wilderness basking on the cool shores of Lake Eden is a haven I devoured as a child. I know every inch of it better than my own shoebox apartment.

Pinecrest, a breathtaking structure of unlimited glasswork buried in the heart of a grove has my soul. My love. I would live there forever, become a wood witch frolicking naked through the trees.

But the four-story home has been in Oz's family for generations and, although Oz is the type of man who would give the shirt off his back if asked, it rightfully belongs to Rhys. Even if he's never treated me as less than his own, I'm not taking his ancestral home.

Dark, rich oak and gleaming tinted windows glint in welcome as I pull up the gravel path. The sun is at the highest point where the sharp edge of the roof reaches past the towing trees to pierce the sky. All around, the air smells so clean and crisp, a cleansing brew of sunbaked earth, sweet pine, cool, bubbling water. I'm so happy to finally be here, I almost forget to wait for Rhys to park before tumbling out of the car.

"Addie!"

Mom comes tearing out the front doors and down the marble steps. I meet her halfway in a collision of bodies.

"Oh my God, you made it." Mom pulls back just enough to grab my face and pepper every inch of it with kisses. "I'm so happy you're here."

Laughing, I extract myself and smile at her. "I missed you, too, Mom."

Mom is disgustingly beautiful with a wild explosion of thick, black curls and deep, green eyes the shade of damp moss over an elegant nose and full lips. She's draped in a stunning, Grecian slip in a soft green that makes her eyes seem to glow. The five, gold bands at her wrist clatter noisily as she loops her arm through mine and drags me in the direction of the house and the gorgeous man grinning at us from the doorway.

Ozias Delgado extends his big arms to me, and I release my mother to race up and throw myself into his wide chest.

"Ah, my sweet Addie." He squeezes me hard once before stamping a kiss into the side of my head. "You are home at last. You are never allowed to leave again."

He says the same thing every time I come to visit, and he means it, and I want so badly to accept.

"Don't tempt me." I say, pulling back to face both of them now standing side by side, studying the figure coming up behind me.

"Rhys!" Mom moves to engulf him in an equally crushing embrace. "I'm so happy both my babies are home."

I don't look at Rhys.

"You didn't mention you and Addie were coming together," Oz says, and I have to resist the urge to grimace at his unintended remark.

Rhys draws back from Mom but keeps a loose arm around her shoulders as he addresses his father. "Cumming together just seemed like a fun idea."

He's intentionally being impossible knowing I can't say shit.

"I'm so glad." Mom squeezes his middle. "I guess you guys started talking again after Addie texted you a couple of weeks back?"

I forgot all about the text I promised Mom I would send Rhys. I forgot I sent it, but not what I sent, unfortunately.

"I did get her text," Rhys assures her, but his eyes are burning into the side of my deliberately averted face.

Mom hadn't specified what I should say to the guy I was intentionally avoiding so, I said the first thing that had come to mind — "Texting." He never texted back so l had considered my obligations fulfilled.

"Well, now that I have you both here, I want to hear everything."

"Why don't you and Addie go ahead?" Oz touches his lips to the side of Mom's head. "We'll get the luggage."

They share a slow kiss, and I find my attention lifting to the man watching me. His loving gaze moves over my face to rest on my mouth. I feel them tingle as if he's touched me and my chest aches to go to him. To press my palms to his shoulders, go up on my toes and taste him. He's barely a foot away and I fucking miss him.

"Love you," he mouths, and it only hurts more.

I mouth it back just as our parents pull apart. Mom turns to me with a happy little grin that glows pink on her cheeks.

She claims my arm, threading hers through it and leading me deeper across the gleaming, black marble cut from the same material as the front stairs. It runs through the entire first floor, a sleek, black river with gold veins.

I peel my slippers off and set them on the mat just inside the door, noting mine is the only pair there.

"No one else has arrived?"

"Not yet, but they should before the dinner. That means," she presses my arm to her chest, "I get you to myself for a little while longer."

I am more than happy to have Mom to myself. All the stress I'd been hauling around the last week vanishes the deeper Mom drags me through the house in the direction of the back patio.

She practically shoves me into a cushioned wicker chair facing a full view of Lake Eden in all its splendor and grace. The evening canopy of navy-blue shimmers across the calm surface, creating a hypnotic ripple I can't tear my eyes away from.

"How's your father and Sue?" Mom pulls my attention away from the familiar scent washing off the clear surface to kiss my cheeks.

It's a good question.

"I have no idea," I tell her with a shrug. "I haven't seen or talked to either of them since Christmas. Eight months ago. I texted Dad for Father's Day, and just to check in, but he hasn't responded."

A fine line appears between Mom's eyebrows, a tiny dent that mirrors the twin set on either side of her mouth. The hurt and apology in her eyes tell me what she's about to say before she even speaks.

"I'm so sorry, baby."

I wave the apology away. It's not her fault. She's not the reason Sue has a weird tie around Dad or that he's too weak to stand up to her. It's not Mom's fault Sue is the very definition of an evil stepmother.

"It's fine, honestly. I think I like it better this way."

Because the alternative is worse. I had to live with her cold shoulder, snide remarks and manipulation for almost four weeks when I originally moved to the city and asked to stay with them in Sue's swanky upper west side penthouse for a little while. Just until I could find my own place.

My regret in that decision had been immediate.

Sue was a fucking nightmare. The worst kind.

She wouldn't stop accusing Mom of keeping me away from them. Never mind that I was turned down every time I asked if I could visit over Christmas or the summer. Never mind that I texted Dad a lot more than he's ever texted me. Never mind that Mom and Oz have offered to have them visit over the summer and stay in the guesthouse.

They were given every opportunity and still, somehow, Mom and Oz are the problems.

I wasn't allowed a key to the apartment. The doorman — who Dad introduced me to — wouldn't let me into the building unless Sue granted permission. I wasn't allowed to go out after six unless she approved of where I was going. She monitored what I wore, how much I ate, and even had the audacity to tell me I talked to Mom too much.

That had been the straw that finally broke my patience. Everything else I can deal with, but limiting my time with Mom is an absolute no.

"How's work?" Mom asks, shoving a frosty glass of fresh lemonade into my hand.

A droplet of condensation drips off the bottom and hits the naked skin on my thigh a millimeter below the hem of my skirt.

I smooth the moisture away with the pad of my thumb and wipe it on the soft fleece of my hoodie.

"Nothing has changed. Mrs. Goldblum hired one of her friends and the two of them are practically taking over. Simone, the other woman, yelled at me in front of a patient that I stole his prescription."

"Mr. Cordially?"

I nod. "Thankfully, I was able to point out it was in his glove box like always, but it was so crazy. She threatened to call the cops on me."

Mom slams her drink down on the glass and wicker table between us with enough force to make me wince. "I beg your pardon? That man has been calling the clinic once a week with the same complaint and she has the nerve to yell at you?" Witnessing Mom lose her temper is always entertaining because it rarely ever happens. "This is harassment. We should have Oz look into it."

I chuckle. "No, it's honestly fine because I already planned on leaving once I found something else."

Mom huffs and drops back against her chair. "It's terrible."

It really is. Dr. Goldblum is such a sweet man, and I love working for him, but his wife ... she's a piece of work.

"You know though..." the deep creases between Mom's brows soften and she grins a little. "Deloris is retiring in two months."

I blink. "What? Why?"

Mom laughs. "Because she's eighty-five. I don't blame her."

I can't believe it. Deloris has been working at Oz's office since I was a kid. She taught me everything I knew about being a receptionist. I interned with her every summer and helped on weekends since I was fifteen.

"I'm sad, but happy for her."

Mom nods, picking up her drink again and taking a sip. "But Oz is going to be looking for a new receptionist, someone who knows the ropes." She bats her eyes at me from over the rim. "You could move back..."

My laugh bursts out of me. "Most parents want their twenty-year-old child to move out, not live with them forever."

Mom gasps in feigned outrage. "You're not moving in with me. There's a whole guesthouse just across the yard." Her expression grows serious. "With you so far away and Oz at work and Rhys living on his own, this place is just too empty. I tried to get Rhys to move back the few times I've seen him in town working—"

"He still works in town?"

Mom pauses. "Where else would he work?"

"I just thought since he moved, it would be a shorter commute."

Mom's frown deepened. "I don't think it's that far. Ten minutes, maybe?"

I've been to Rhys's apartment. It's not in town unless he's living a double life which I highly doubt. The only thing I can think is he's been driving to and from work every day for six hours both ways so he could be close to me.

My heart warms and breaks at the thought. He's been with me the whole time, refusing to give up on us and I acted like a child. Sure, I still believe my fears are valid, but it makes my heart ache.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you two together again," Mom's saying when I climb out of my thoughts. "Rhys was devastated when you left. He had no idea until he came home to find you gone." Mom clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "He was crushed. I asked if something happened, if you guys got into a fight, but he wouldn't say, and you wouldn't say, but you were both hurting. I hated it."

My stomach writhes like a dark pit of angry snakes. I stare at a chunk of ice floating across the yellow surface of my drink to clink into the side of my glass.

"I kissed him," I blurt before I can stop myself.

My gaze darts up quickly to catch her reaction, her face. Kissing is a tame explanation to that night, but I have to see what she'll say, how she will react. This is a tiny prod sent out to test the waters, and Mom doesn't disappoint.

Her jaw drops. Her eyes go round. She stares at me with a soft, "Oh." But I see something register and her expression morphs into a grimace. "Oh!" she repeats with remorse. "Oh, Addie, I'm so sorry. I'm sure Rhys was just taken by surprise. You know he adores you."

I'm amused that her immediate thought isn't, what the fuck is wrong with you, but sympathy that I'd been rejected. So, out of shame and hurt, I ran.

She's not wrong, I suppose. Shame was exactly why I left.

"Ad?" Mom touches my arm gently and I blink out of my thoughts. She's watching me with concern tilting her head. "You okay?"

I nod and clear my throat. I take a sip of my tart drink to busy my hands. "Fine. Just thinking I can't believe it's been ten years for you and Oz."

Mom does not fall for my attempts to distract her, but she doesn't press. "Me neither. It feels like only yesterday he walked into my life."

I snort a laugh. "You mean when you crashed your car into his at a stop sign?"

Mom's cheeks darken. "Same thing."

We both laugh at the guilt wrinkling her nose; only my mom could total a man's whole car and walk away with a date.

"I'm really happy for you guys," I say, settling back in my cushions with my drink cradled between my palms. "I love Oz, and I love that you're so happy."

Mom sighs and unfurls her legs to stretch out before her. "I don't know what I would do without him. He's my whole world, next to you, of course, and Rhys." She taps a French tip against the side of her glass contemplatively as she stares at something across the lake. "Addie, why did you kiss—?"

I quickly interjected like I hadn't heard her.

"How's the macramé business?" I counter, changing the subject.

Her eyes narrow, but she lets me evade the question. But a shadow flitters over her expression and she quickly averts her own eyes to the lake. The fingers around her glass tighten.

"Mom?" I press, setting my drink down on the table at my elbow.

Mom sighs and follows suit placing her glass aside.

"A few months ago, Ozzy had some clients over for dinner and the wife loved the piece I have over the loveseat in the living room. Ozzy told her about my business when she asked where I got it." She took a sip of her drink, gaze still avoiding mine. "She was so lovely and complimentary. I showed her a few others when she asked and she looked up my website. During dinner, she mentioned knowing companies that would buy my pieces in bulk all over the world."

My eyes widen. "Oh my God! Mom, that's fantastic. What's the problem?"

A wrinkle formed over the bridge of Mom's delicate nose. "Love Knot is my baby. It's a passion because it's personal. I hand create each piece with care and love. If I start hammering them out in bulk, it's not the same."

I consider her worries and understand her concerns, but this is a huge deal. Too big to ignore.

"You can still do both. Keep your storefront and online but expand. Pick companies you align with and maybe hire a few of the women from town to start. You deserve to get your name out there. It doesn't mean you're selling out. You're reaching a broader customer base. It's a good ... no, great thing. I think you should go for it."

Mom slices a hesitant glance in my direction. "You think so?"

I nod enthusiastically. "A hundred percent."

"See? I told you it was a good idea."

Oz saunters towards us with his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his white slacks. His dark, chocolate brown eyes are all for Mom as he moves to press a kiss to the top of her curls. A shiny lock of black slips free to fall over his brow.

"Do it, mi amore ."

Mom nibbles her bottom lip, looking excited and apprehensive. "I'll think about it," she says at last.

Oz kisses the tip of her nose. "Good." He straightens and turns those warm eyes on me. "We took your bags up to your room."

At the mention of we, my gaze darts to the beautiful figure standing just over his shoulder.

His eyes are already on me, already so full of want and need. Every nerve ending crackles with an awareness that makes my heart pang to be with him. I have become so reliant on his existence in my life that his absence — even temporarily — feels like a physical wound. And he won't take his attention off me. It's knowing and dirty in a way it shouldn't be given our parents are sitting right there.

But I bottle the prickling urge to go to him. I grip my armrests a little tighter in restraint. I try not to stare as Rhys moves to take the seat across from mine. Close, but so far.

"What were you ladies talking about?" Oz sits on Mom's ottoman and drags her feet into his lap. Her black flats are gingerly removed and set aside and replaced by his long fingers drifting along her tiny toes.

I don't miss the glance Mom darts at me, then Rhys. A subtle little shift that assures me the topic of my kiss with Rhys will be brought up again the next chance she gets.

"Just Addie's job," she says at last.

Mom and I tell each other everything. After her divorce from Dad, it's been just us and our bond is unwavering. I know I can tell her anything and she will never judge me, but this is different. Mom may not judge my feelings for Rhys, but it would change something between us. For ten years, Rhys has been her son. One of her babies. I don't even know if it'll matter that we don't share blood only that she considers us her children. This might be too much for her. For Oz.

I feel a light tap against my foot and I have to swallow hard to push free of my spiraling thoughts to look up.

Rhys cocks his head to one side and gives it a gentle shake as if to tell me to stop it. Like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.

I swallow again, desperately calming the panic in my chest.

"Are they still giving you a hard time?" Oz asks, drawing my attention to the other two.

I clear my throat, giving myself time to lighten my tone when I wave a dismissive hand. "It's really not a big deal. I've been looking for other employment anyway."

"I mentioned Deloris's retirement in a couple of months," Mom chimes in slyly.

Oz's eyebrows shoot up. His eyes widen with excitement. "Do you want the position? It would save me training someone new and you already know how I like my coffee."

I laugh at that, the temptation overwhelming.

Yes! I want to come home so badly. I miss Pinecrest. I miss Mom and Oz so much. I miss the woods and the lake, and all the memories I made here with Rhys. Times and events that make up a large chunk of my childhood.

Inadvertently, my gaze shifts to the man next to me. His focus on me is resolute, but unhelpful.

Am I ready to come back? I have no reason to stay in the city anymore. Everyone and everything I love is here. Logically, it makes sense.

"Let me think about it," I tell Oz, wanting to talk to Rhys about it before I make up my mind.

"You could come work for me," Rhys drawls. "I've been thinking I might need a secretary."

Heat explodes beneath my skin. "I don't think they're called—"

"I like secretary."

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my grin in check.

On our list, he's added a few things he'd like to try. Role play is one. I guess playing his dirty secretary is something I'm going to have to fulfill for him.

"I'll think about it," I say, careful to keep my tone neutral.

"Well, I asked her first," Oz interrupts.

Rhys frees me from his level stare to meet his father's mock irritation. "I have more to offer."

Oz huffs. "Like what?"

The asshole with the crooked grin replies smoothly, "Flexibility."

Good Christ.

Oz, the poor man, looks momentarily resigned at the remark. "Unfortunately, the office hours are set..."

"I really don't need flexibility," I assure him quickly.

"Don't you?" Rhys counters, cocking his head.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Nope."

"That's not the impression I got when we were talking last night—"

"You heard wrong," I cut in.

The asshole hums and settles back in his chair. "No. I remember you being very pro flexibility."

He'd had my arms and legs tied wide across his bed. The straps were taut, giving me no movement as he took full control of my body in ways that make me shift in my seat.

Bastard notices and grins.

"I can talk to the other members about hours..." Oz hazards, seeming confused as he glances between us.

"It really isn't a problem, Oz. Rhys is being a turd. The hours are fine."

"But you know, speaking of flexible, how was the yoga retreat?" Mom pops in. "You barely said two words about it when you got back. Was it awful?"

"She was very tight lipped about it," Rhys agrees. "Couldn't get a thing out of her when I asked. Just kept making these sounds—"

"It was fine!" I snap, ready to pitch my glass at his head. "There's really nothing to tell."

"Nothing?" Mom grumbles. "You don't even have a single picture. What kind of place was this?"

"Remote. No cell service so ... so I didn't take pictures." Mom and Oz aren't tech savvy, but they know I'm lying. Terribly. The camera feature has nothing to do with Wi-Fi. "I forgot."

"Well, what did you do all week?" Mom pushes, and I really should have seen the questions coming. I should have prepared better answers.

"Slept, mostly," I confessed. "Did a little yoga. Exercised a bit. It was pretty isolated so not really much to do."

I recognize my mistake the second Mom pauses with her drink poised at her lips. Her eyebrow arches with a very deliberate disbelief.

"You ... exercised?"

I should have stopped at slept. I'm not athletic. I barely passed gym class. Willingly admitting to working out is the equivalent of me confessing that I'm a world class athlete — laughable and highly unlikely.

"I mean, not overly a lot," I babble stupidly.

"What kind of exercise?" Rhys pipes in, and my cheeks burn.

"I'm more interested in the yoga," Mom partially saves me. "I have a group of friends who I occasionally go to yoga class with. Maybe you can join us once you move back."

"Those yoga pants look fun," Rhys adds.

I draw in a slow, calming breath. "Thank you, but it wasn't for me."

"You just need the right teacher," Mom assures gently. "It's the most relaxing thing. It makes your whole body feel amazing."

"I'm really liking the sound of yoga," Rhys says evenly.

"You should try it too, Rhys," Mom adds with excitement. "We can all go together!"

"What do you think, Addie?" he says, never looking away from me. "Want to learn yoga with me?"

I deliberately turn my attention to my drink and take a gulp. "I think I've learned all I can this weekend and—"

"Oh, I'm sure there is still plenty to learn." He leans in and takes the glass from my hands. "We could make a list of all the things we haven't tried."

I watch with a mixture of amusement and irritation as he downs the whole thing.

"I do like lists," I grumble around the grin I can't suppress.

Rhys runs a pink tongue across his upper lip and my core seizes. "Oh, I know it."

Damn the man.

He was seriously fucking with my head, and senses. How am I supposed to act like I'm not about to jump him when he's practically stripping me with his eyes?

"Still not joining your yoga group though," I tell Mom. "I plan on being sick on those days."

Mom purses her lips but knows me well enough not to push physical activities on me.

As kids, Rhys and I were all over the place. We hiked for hours, rowed all across the lake, did a million things outside, and I still loved those things, but my heart preferred a cozy bed and a book. Plus, the way we fucked, did I need a gym?

"I think Addie just needs a little convincing," Rhys murmurs, drumming long fingers on the armrest of his chair.

"I think we should let Addie decide," Oz offers, and I'm almost so grateful until he continues, "The last time we made her do sports, she pretended to break her leg."

"I think it was her hip," Mom mutters, shooting me a severe side eye. "All to avoid a little running."

"A little? It was cross country," I object vehemently. "I had to run for miles!"

"It wasn't literally across the country, Adeline," Mom huffs. "The whole thing was an hour long."

"An hour of running!" I cry, still outraged by the sheer audacity. "Absolutely not."

"I thought you liked running," the dead man next to me announces breezily.

He's lucky he took my drink, or I would hit him with it. "If the occasion calls for it."

Rhys tips his head to one side. "What occasion casually requires running?"

Definitely a dead man.

Well, two can play this game.

"Getting chased through the woods by a masked man wielding a knife."

Mom gasps, hand actually going to her chest. "Addie! That's not funny."

Despite everything, Rhys and I can't help exchanging amused glances as Mom goes into detail about a murder documentary she watched the week before.

We lapse into a comfortable flow of conversation while we watch fireflies skip across the water and the sky fade from pink to the deep blue of a fresh bruise. I almost forget others would be joining us until Mom checks her watch.

"Where is everyone?"

"Maybe they won't come," Oz decides hopefully and gets a poke in the leg by Mom's toes.

"We have a kitchen full of food and a small army of people coming tomorrow to set this place up. If no one shows up, I'll cry."

Oz's face morphs into one of sorrow. "Of course, people will come, my love. I only mean that I would much rather have my beautiful wife and children to myself. We haven't been together like this since ... Christmas?"

Mom nods and I try not to think how terrible and tense the few visits I'd made where Rhys was also in attendance. I spent the entire trip avoiding him, barely looking at him, and leaving as quickly as I could. Now, all I want to do is crawl into his lap and let him hold me.

"How many people are we expecting?" Rhys asks and the sound of his voice makes my skin tingle.

"Tonight, only family," Mom assures. "The actual party tomorrow will have a few extra people. Friends and family mostly. Are either of you bringing anyone?"

The hopefulness in the question makes me grimace. I think the fact that neither Rhys nor I have had a significant other since our school days is beginning to stress her out. Out of pure desperation to get her to stop her not so quietly stressing, I told her about Atticus. I could have declared I was moving back the way she practically came apart with happiness. That happiness dimmed only slightly when I told her we'd met online.

"You're going to get murdered," was her response.

I had to swear on her life that I would not let myself get murdered.

I stare a little too hard at the dock stretching across the center of the lake.

"Addie?" Mom prods. "Why don't you invite your friend?"

Oz glances from me to Mom, dark eyes thin slits. "That masked weirdo? I don't want him here. There is something wrong with a grown man who runs around dressed up like Zorro ."

"It's not a Zorro mask," Rhys mutters, and quickly adds, "I'm guessing. It wouldn't be very practical..."

"Does it matter what kind of mask?" Oz snaps. "He could be a criminal who preys on young women. I should have my guy look into him. He sounds unhinged."

I am barely holding my hysterical laughter in check when Oz pivots his outrage on me.

"Honestly, I don't want you to see him anymore, Addie. You have no idea what he looks like under there. I mean, how old is he even to be wearing a mask? Are you sure he's not a child?"

The absolute outrage on Rhys's face, the personal offence has me choking back my laughter as I fight to maintain a stoic expression.

"You know what, you could be right," I muse slowly, with all the conviction I can muster. "He could totally be a weirdo."

Oz nods, face the most serious I've ever seen it. "If you want to date someone, Gerald's son is currently in university to study law. Good kid. I will introduce you."

"Oh!" I say, putting some excitement into my voice. "A lawyer, huh?"

"Better than some mask wearing nut job with no teeth."

"What do you mean no teeth?" Rhys snaps, glowering at his father. "You can't know he doesn't have teeth. The mask could just be ... a thing."

I'm dying. I'm pretty sure my insides are about to explode.

"He's a lunatic," Oz shoots back. "Your sister deserves a good boy."

"She deserves to be..." I have never seen Rhys swallow down his words so quickly. He clears his throat. "She absolutely deserves something."

Pleased he'd won, Oz turns to me. "I'll tell Gerald to text me when Jordan visits next time, and we'll set up a dinner here at the house."

Sobering, I shake my head, deciding I better clear things up before the vein in Rhys's temple explodes. "That's not necessary, Oz. Thank you though, but I'm happy with my masked man. He's all I want. And I have seen his face," I add quickly when he looks ready to argue. "It's a beautiful face with all his teeth. I'm very fond of it and him. And I'm not letting him go."

"You've seen Atticus?" Mom leans forward with excitement. "Why didn't you say anything? When? Where? What does he look like?"

I hesitate, but I make the split-second decision that this was the best way to break the news to them. Gradually and with care. Maybe if they see how much I love Rhys and how good we are together, when we finally tell them, it won't be such a surprise.

"He stayed with me at the cabin," I tell them very carefully, speaking slow like I'm trying to calm two startled horses.

"The cabin?" Mom cries.

"You took some deranged lunatic to an isolated cabin in the woods for a whole week with no reception?" Oz roars, looking on the verge of lunging to his feet and strangling me.

I quickly put a hand up. "I have known him a really long time and I have never felt safer with anyone."

"Adeline!" Mom exclaims, looking as frantic as her husband. "He could have murdered you. He could have buried you somewhere and we would—"

I grab her trembling fingers. "Mom, I swear to you, I'm safe with him. He's amazing and he loves me and ... I love him. So much."

There's no missing the war rampant on her beautiful face. I know she wants to squeal and hug me with all the elation in her heart, but she's struggling with all the possibilities of losing me.

"He would never hurt me," I assure her quietly. "You know I'm not stupid. I wouldn't have asked him to stay with me if I didn't trust him with my whole heart."

That seems to ease some of her worry. Her fingers squeeze mine and she draws in a breath.

"Of course you're not stupid." She pauses, sounding a little breathless like she'd been holding her breath. "I just wish you had told me you were going to be alone with a stranger the entire week. I could have—"

"You were in Greece," I reminded her.

"I could have sent Rhys. He could have made sure you were okay."

I fight not to grimace. "Mom, I'm fine. Look at me. I don't need a babysitter. I'm a whole grown person fully capable of handling myself."

"That was still a very reckless decision, Addie," Oz says.

"I wanted him there with me. I wanted to spend time with him and—"

"Yoga!" Mom yelps suddenly and claps her hands over her mouth, but she has everyone's attention.

"Yoga...?" I began, bemused.

We make eye contact, and I see the understanding dawn across her face. The realization. Now, I'm covering my mouth as fire erupts beneath my skin.

"What about yoga?" Oz breaks into our locked stare.

Mom has her lips mashed together, smothering her grin as she lowers her hands and faces her husband. "Nothing. We just really love yoga."

We both burst out laughing as Oz frowns at us with disapproval.

But Rhys.

Rhys is watching me, eyes dark fire pits devouring my very essence. There's a warning and a promise in his perfect stillness that steals my air and dampens the place between my thighs.

"I don't think this is funny, my love. We could have lost her," Oz is stressing to Mom, oblivious to the fact that his son is practically fucking me with his eyes a few feet away.

"I would never have let that happen," the man in question murmurs quietly.

Oz ruffles a hand back through his hair, looking no less stressed. He shakes his head.

"Well, it seems like I'm the only one who is worried you could be someone's lampshade right now."

Rhys frees me from his spell long enough to glance at his father. "Do you think I would ever let anything hurt her?"

Oz takes a slow, steadying breath. "No, of course not, but..." he shakes his head again. "I guess we should meet him then, right?

Shit .