Claire’s POV
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I was in a trance, not even thinking about what I was doing really, as I pressed myself up onto my toes, ready to press my lips to his. He was leaning down, his head tilting, his mouth angling just so…
Then, suddenly, a wave crashed down over us. Gideon turned, pulling me more fully behind the protective cover of his body, but the wave that crashed into his back still splattered over his shoulder and caught me in the face. Some of the saltwater went into my eye.
The mood was officially broken and I was ready to go back onto the land.
As we waded back toward shore, I was starting to think that maybe the ocean was nicer to look at than it was to actually be inside of it.
The kids were still playing with their sandcastles, watched protectively by Peter and the babysitter.
“Come on,” Gideon said. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
Near the bar were complimentary towels, so Gideon grabbed one and passed it to me. Iimmediately wiped my face dry. After, I wrapped it around my waste and followed Gideon into the bar.
The bartender was an older woman with deeply etched laugh lines and a pointed look. She seemed like the type who loved to laugh, probably loved her job too, but wasn’t afraid to throw hands if things got heated.
For us though, for now, she smiled. “What can I get you two?” She was friendly enough, but her gaze kept swinging back to
- me.
“Chardonnay,” I said.
“Whiskey,” Gideon said.
She left for a minute.
I thought of conveying to Gideon what I was noticing, but decided not to. Maybe I was being paranoid. Besides, Gideon prided himself on being my protector. If he didn’t notice anything wrong, then chances were, there wasn’t anything wrong
to notice.
The minute the bartender returned, though, after placing our drinks in front of us, Gideon said, “You keep looking at my companion…”
The bartender shook her head. “Yeah, sorry. She just looks a lot like former Luna Queen Lena.”
I did, but it wasn’t like people to actually notice. Sometimes it felt like Lena’s appearance had been mostly forgotten, even if her good reputation lingered. I couldn’t really remember ever seeing a likeness of her before I learned of the connection.
“She’s my mother,” I said. The words were still somewhat stiff in my mouth, but it was getting easier to say them, one attempt at a time.
The bartender, her nametag read Ruth, startled as she looked at me again. “Then you are Daniel’s niece?”
“You know Daniel?” I asked.
“Do I know Daniel?” She laughed. “Honey, everyone knows Daniel. At least the regulars do. He lived here. He was in here every day, had a lot of friends.”
1/3
Chapter 193
“Please,” I said, leaning forward on the bar. “What was he like?”
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“Ah, guess you never knew him, did you? Hmmm…” Ruth rubbed her chin. “Well, he was a nice guy, good tipper. He kept to himself a lot, at least the personal stuff. It took us a long time to even uncover who he was. He didn’t like talking about himself or the past, but was eager to learn as much as he could about everyone else. A good listener.”
I looked around the bar, trying to imagine my uncle sitting at one of these stools, chatting it up with one of his fellow bar patrons.
“You could tell that the man was troubled,” Ruth said. “Or at least, I could. You see all kinds here. People run away from their problems as far as they can, and unless they can walk on water, they are forced to stop here. He was a good guy, though. Generous and well–liked by most people.”
She nodded her head to one of the walls by the cash–register, where a bunch of photos were pinned to a corkboard.
“His picture’s over there,” she said. “If you want to take a look.”
I did, so I went over there, and looked up at the corkboard.
I spotted Uncle Daniel at once. Sitting on a corner stool, he held a glass of beer up as if giving a toast. He was smiling but his eyes were sad. He was surrounded by more smiling faces. They seemed comfortable with each other, given their body language. Were these his friends?
At once, I felt a small twinge of relief. I had been so worried that my uncle had spent his final days alone. He might have been tortured by his demons, but at least he had found a comfortable and happy environment to fight them in, surrounded by beauty and friendship.
I was glad he hadn’t been alone.
Yet, with that relief also came heartache. How was it possible for me to miss someone I didn’t even know?
Gideon, who had stayed behind at the bar, asked Ruth, “Had Daniel ever said anything with you about his past?”
“Eventually we figured out who he was, but… after we confronted him about it, he kind of disappeared on us for a while,” Ruth said. “We’d only been teasing, but we learned pretty quickly it was a sore subject. No one brought it up again. We all just kind of pretended like we didn’t know. We didn’t ask, and he didn’t share, and that was the way of things.”
I gave the photo one final look before returning to the bar and to my wine.
“I know where his grave is,” Ruth said. “Let me write down the address for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, lost in thought.
I remained lost in thought much later, after we had put the kids to bed and retired to our own rooms. We had rented an entire wing of the resort, so we were protected here, with our own guards guarding the corridor.
So as I sat awake, unable to sleep, it had nothing to do with any fear of lack of safety. Instead, I just couldn’t stop thinking about my uncle, and how I was here, in the place he had spent the final years of his life.
Wildly, my thoughts turned to Gideon and how perhaps he could offer comfort to my wandering mind.
As quickly as the thoughts arrived, I shook them away. What was I thinking of him at a time like this? This was a family matter, and one that I could deal with on his own.
It had to be that subtle mating bond still thrumming inside of my chest that was making me think of him. That made me want to go to him.
2/3
11:20 am
Chapter 193
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Before I knew it, I was on my feet, moving through the room to the door. It was as if I was being pulled by the mating bond,
but…
No, I shouldn’t blame that. I wasn’t going anywhere I didn’t want to be. I stepped out into the hallway and then moved closer to Gideon’s room. I even lifted my hand to knock, before letting it fall again, annoyed at myself.
Yet, just as I started to turn away, inwardly condemning myself for what I was doing, Gideon’s door unlocked and opened, revealing him standing there.
He looked at me, his eyes as tired as mine, yet it was clear he had no yet found sleep just like me.
“Claire,” he said. He stepped aside, leaving an opening into his room. “Come in.”
I shouldn’t have, but I still did, walking inside.
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