Sofia

I looked into my son’s sweet eyes as I tucked him into bed. As much as I loved the fact that his eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue, I hated that they looked exactly like his father’s. I could never forget where Matson came from, not when I looked into the almost identical eyes.

“Did you have fun with Nana tonight?”

Matson nodded his head vigorously, a smile plumping up his cheeks. They used to be chubbier but were slimming now as he grew taller, losing his baby fat.

“I’m glad.” I pressed a quick kiss to cheek before kissing the other. I could never resist planting kisses on his sweet face, especially knowing that one day he’d make me stop.

He yawned, covering his mouth with his fist before asking, “Is the man from the hospital okay?”

“I think so,” I said, realizing that I hadn’t even asked Grant how he was feeling or what the doctors had said about his condition. Even if I had asked him, he probably would have lied or exaggerated the truth, not wanting me to be concerned or worried.

“Do you have to see him anymore,” Matson asked, his forehead creased with as much concern as an eight-year-old could muster.

“I’ll go see him tomorrow during my lunch.”

He blinked, and I stared at his long, dark lashes, loving the way they accented his kind eyes. “You’ll pick me up before dinner this time?”

My heart ached with the knowledge that any change to our normal routine tended to make Matson uneasy. I’d never pinpointed the reason for his fear, it seemed unnatural to me, but I didn’t want to add to it. The last thing I wanted to bring to my child was unease. It was my job to protect him, to make him feel safe and comforted. It was a job I took extremely seriously.

“I’ll pick you up before dinner. Sorry I’ve been late the last couple of nights.”

“It’s okay, Mama. That man needed you and I let him borrow you for a little while, but now I need you back,” he said, his tone so matter-of-fact that I had to stop myself from giggling.

“Things will go back to normal tomorrow. Promise.” I stuck out my pinky finger, and Matson wrapped his smaller pinky around mine and squeezed before shaking our hands up and down twice.

“Good night, Mama,” he said through another yawn.

I kissed him again, on the forehead this time. “Good night, baby. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

• • •

Knowing that I had a promise to keep to my son, I hustled during my lunch break toward the hospital. It wasn’t far in terms of miles, but there was no quick route that avoided the everyday traffic and numerous red lights. I threw my car into park in a visitor’s spot and practically jogged into the hospital.

Opting for the stairs instead of the slow elevator, I was anxious as I made my way up, two stairs at a time, toward Grant’s floor. I had no idea why I was feeling so apprehensive for no reason until I rounded the corner and stepped into his room.

His empty room.

Grant wasn’t there. A vase of flowers sat undisturbed on the windowsill. The handful of get-well-soon cards he’d received were still propped up, marching in a neat row on the nightstand next to the bed.

I spun on my heel to exit the room at the same moment a nurse I didn’t recognize from my previous visits walked in.

“Where is he?” I demanded, waving toward the empty bed.

“He’s gone,” she said matter-of-factly as she gathered the cards.

I almost fell apart right then.

Swallowing hard, I sucked in a breath and barreled back down the stairs. As I ran for my car, I noted the time, knowing I’d be cutting it close, but I had to hear it from Ryan directly. I had to know what happened.

Grant had seemed fine yesterday. What had gone so wrong since then?

When I arrived at Sam’s, I tugged open the heavy bar door and walked in, pushing my sunglasses on top of my head. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, I searched for Ryan behind the bar, but he wasn’t there.

“Angel?”

I turned around to see him bent over a notebook at a table, his head cocked to one side as he eyed me.

“Ryan, what happened? How’d he die?” My voice cracked on my questions as I hurried toward him. “I thought he was fine.”

He pushed out of the chair and stood up, meeting me halfway. “Who died? What are you talking about?”

“Who died?” I practically shouted. “Grant! What happened to him?”

Ryan’s face fell, and his brow furrowed in confusion. “Grant, what?”

I couldn’t believe Ryan didn’t already know and I was going to have to tell him. I was sure he would have known before I did. The hospital would have called him, wouldn’t they?

“He’s not at the hospital, Ryan. They didn’t tell you?”

“Wait.” He raised one hand to stop me before placing both of them on my shoulders and squaring me to face him. “You were at the hospital?”

Staring into his ocean-blue eyes, I pretended to ignore how good his hands felt on my body, or how warm. “Yes, I was at the hospital. His room was empty, but all his gifts were still there, and the nurse said he was gone.”

Ryan started laughing. The asshole actually laughed in my face.

I jerked out of his grasp and took a step back, appalled at his behavior and attitude. “Why are you laughing?”

“I took him home this morning. Trust me, the old man’s fine.”

My breath whooshed out of me, taking my anxiety with it. “He’s not dead?”

Ryan shook his head, but the smile refused to leave his lips. “No.”

“I just assumed . . . I mean, his cards and flowers were there, so it looked like—” I stopped short, unable to finish that sentence.

“He made me leave those things. Told me if I even thought about boxing them up and taking them to his house, he’d shoot me once we got there.”

A laugh bubbled up from deep in my throat. “He’s unbelievable.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Ryan smirked.

A throat cleared and I turned to see one of Ryan’s brothers behind the bar. Maybe the youngest brother, but I couldn’t be sure. I definitely needed to brush up on my Fisher trivia.

No, I most certainly do not. Why did that thought even enter my head?

“Hi. I’m Nick.” He offered me a friendly little wave.

Ryan groaned without even giving him a glance. “No one cares who you are. Go away.”

“I bet she cares. Don’t you?” Nick asked, then launched rapid-fire questions at me. “Are you the girl from the beach? The one who saved Grant? The one my brother won’t shut the hell up about?”

All my words escaped me, so I could only nod. Nick knew who I was? Ryan talked about me? This was surreal.

Glancing down at my watch, I noted the time. “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath as I backed away. “I have to go. I’m on my lunch break.”

Ryan moved too, falling into step with me. “I’ll walk you out.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” Trying to ignore him, I headed for the door. “It was nice to meet you, Nick,” I said as I passed by him. His eyes were identical to Ryan’s, but their hair color couldn’t have been more different. Nick’s was jet black, a stark contrast to Ryan’s lighter brown.

“Nice to meet you too, uh . . .” Nick paused, looking sheepish. “I have no idea what your name is. Sorry.”

“Sofia,” I said before I could stop myself.

Dammit. I hadn’t wanted Ryan to know my name, and now I’d given it up without thinking. These Fisher brothers made a girl lose all sense of reason.

“Nice to meet you, Sofia,” Nick called out. “Come back again.”

I tossed him a wave before I pushed the door open and walked out into the blaring sunshine. Dropping my sunglasses over my eyes, I sensed Ryan at my back before I turned to see him there.

“Sofia,” he said, my name a breathy sigh as he closed the space between us. The way he said it sent chills down my spine. “It suits you.”

“What does,” I asked, but I knew exactly what he meant.

“Your name. It’s beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” I tried to sound strong, but being so close to Ryan’s body heat was like asking yourself not to burn when you were already on fire.

Ryan shifted on his feet and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to flatter you, angel. I’m really not.”

God, he was so good-looking, it should have been a crime. My attraction to him had to be written all over my face, let alone my body. Every part of myself betrayed me, weakening my resolve.

“Then what are you trying to do?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Get to know you.”

I shook my head. “I’ve already told you. You’re not my type.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

I had to stop the sarcastic laugh that threatened to burst from my lips. “No.”

Maybe I should have lied. If Ryan thought I had a boyfriend, I was fairly certain he would back off.

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” He held up a hand as he started counting. One finger.

“You pretend you hate my guts.” Second finger.

“You also keep pretending you’re not interested in me.” Third finger.

“But I know you feel this energy between us, because there’s no way I’m the only one who feels this.” Fourth finger.

“All I can think is that there’s something you’re not telling me.” Fifth finger.

Ryan held up his whole hand in front of me, one eyebrow raised as he waited for a response.

My head swam with his accusations as light-headedness consumed me. “I really have to go. I can’t be late.” I needed to get away from Ryan and all of his stupid finger-counting and pressure and gorgeous eyes.

A solid hand wrapped around my upper arm, and I looked at it as he spoke. “Just say you’ll come back. One time. Please, Sofia.”

Reaching for his fingers, I peeled them off my arm before I stepped into the parking lot. “I was already planning on it,” I said casually before getting inside my car and driving off.

Ryan would probably assume I was coming back to see him, but I was only fulfilling my end of the bargain that I’d made with Grant. And now that he wasn’t dead like I’d thought he was twenty minutes ago, I’d have to uphold it.