husband their entire marriage. And not that long ago, she’d been proving that devotion was alive, even if he wasn’t, by searching tirelessly for him. Caden would have no clue that her heart and mind had started to wander.
“Why would Oliver be sending Tay flowers?” she asked. “He’s your friend, not hers. Isn’t he?”
“He was. Maybe you should tell her that,” he said and started to leave again.
“Caden!”
“What?” A dark scowl rumpled his forehead when he whipped around.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here,” he replied.
“What’s the matter?”
He gestured at the house. “Why don’t you ask Tay?”
She sighed. They must’ve had an argument. “What are you two fighting about now?” she asked wearily.
“I want to tell you. Believe me, I’m dying to tell you. But I can’t be that big an asshole, even if she deserves it.”
Since Nick had gone missing and her two children had started to argue like never before, Caden was usually eager to get Taylor in trouble, if he could. So why was he holding back? “Why not?”
“If I could tell you that, I could tell you everything. Now, can I go? Please? I have to get out of here before I explode.”
She wanted to get to the bottom of this, but she was hesitant to tackle it while standing there with flowers that were from a man other than his father. If Caden stayed to talk, the subject of the flowers would come up again. She figured she’d let him go to the beach where he could blow off some steam. She could approach him later. Or Taylor would tell her what was wrong, and she’d call him if she felt the need to. “Okay, fine. Go.”
She watched him stride through the gate, which he let slam behind him. Only once he was out of sight did she pull the card out of her pocket and read it again.
It wasn’t signed, but she knew who the flowers were from:
Thinking of you.
Remembering how Quinn had slid her dress up last night—and everything that’d happened afterward—she nearly groaned aloud. She was in trouble, and she knew it.
Dropping her head back, she stared up at the wide blue sky. “What am I going to do?” she whispered.
As happy as she’d been feeling, maybe it’d been a mistake to come home, after all.
* * *
Molly, Quinn’s mother’s golden retriever, loved nothing more than chasing a Frisbee on the beach. Quinn would’ve brought her out with him when he went running earlier, but his parents generally walked her themselves. They said it was good for them to get outdoors and spend a little time together, and he agreed. He hoped it was an hour during which they could forget about the cancer.
But this morning, when he’d returned home to find them getting ready to leave the house, he’d realized he’d forgotten that his mother had a doctor’s appointment, and since his father always drove her to her chemo and radiation treatments, he’d have to walk Molly.
Fortunately, he didn’t mind returning to the beach. As difficult as it was to watch what his mother was going through, he was doing better than he’d done in years, and he felt the sun, the sand and the sea were part of the reason. He was finding himself again, recovering.
He checked one of the scars on his lower back while waiting for Molly to return the Frisbee he’d just thrown. Sarah had stabbed him three times before he’d been able to wake up and gather his senses enough to understand what was happening to him. The first wound wasn’t very deep because she’d hit a rib. The second had missed his kidney by less than a centimeter, and it’d gotten infected, which meant it had taken forever to heal. The third had just sliced the skin. But he was finally there. Despite the presence of Sarah’s parents, who cast a dark cloud over him whenever he ran into them, he’d been able to heal physically and emotionally.
“Here you go, girl.” He took the Frisbee from the dog and threw it again, but this time Molly didn’t bring it back. She’d found some poor sucker who was sitting on the beach to pet and scratch her, which was the only thing she loved better than chasing a Frisbee.
“Hey, you little hedonist. Back to your exercise,” Quinn called, but then he recognized the person she’d discovered. Caden sat alone, a volleyball in the sand beside him.
“This your dog?” he asked as Quinn reached them.
“My mother’s.”
He ducked a