on him. “You breathing?” he asked, his voice a bit gruff.
It was Fitz’s turn to sigh. “I’ve got enough air for another crack at that apology I owe you.”
Vance reached out a hand to help Fitz up.
“I think I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind. You might just knock me down again.”
Without a word, Vance kept his palm outstretched.
After another moment, Fitz met it with his own. His grip was strong and even after he was on his feet, his fingers stayed folded around Vance’s. “I’m sorry.” Fitz swallowed. “What makes it worse was that you were going through a bad time and my involvement as part of it meant I couldn’t be there for you.”
“Yeah,” Vance replied, his voice still gruff. Losing his brother had been much worse than losing Blythe.
“Like I said from the beginning,” Layla interjected cheerfully. “He’s not so fucking perfect, after all.”
Vance had to grin. “Hey, the lady’s right. And that puts me in a much more forgiving mood.”
“Do that,” Fitz said, serious. “Forgive me. Please.”
“Okay.” Vance nodded, then clapped his brother on the shoulder. “We’re okay.”
Then he got out the beer. And pretty soon he and his brother were shooting the shit in the sunshine with cold brews at hand and a pretty girl who just looked at them with an enigmatic smile in her eyes. Before the sun went down, Fitz had grabbed up the clippers and turned his perfectionism toward Vance’s hair.
Look, Vance thought, in sudden surprise. His damn happy day was back.
* * *
IT WON’T HURT TO SAY GOODBYE, Addy reminded herself as she made her way to the door of Baxter’s high-rise condo. She tugged on her light cotton tunic, then flicked a piece of lint from her jeans. It won’t hurt to say goodbye.
Of course, she’d already thought she’d said goodbye—wasn’t it twice now?—but here she was, on Baxter’s turf. That damn carton of ledgers, she thought. She should never have let him carry it away. But when he’d called about getting the stuff back to her, it had seemed smarter for her to make the collection herself rather than suggesting he come to Crescent Cove.
This way, she’d control the situation.
Leave when she wanted. As in, immediately upon receipt of the box.
Baxter answered the door dressed in a pair of jeans and a Superman T-shirt. She stared, surprised by the casual attire. He’d been in similarly relaxed gear the other night at Captain Crow’s, she now remembered. It had seemed somewhat out-of-character then, but still, it had been after work hours. It was noon now, though. A weekday. Why wasn’t he in one of his elegant suits?
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think when I said I’d meet you at home. You could have brought the box to your office and I would have picked it up there.”
He shrugged. “Come in.”
Still, Addy hesitated. At his workplace, the handover could have been totally businesslike. But now she was going to have to walk into his living space, raising the memory of the last time they’d been together in these rooms. The bed. The tie. His body. Oh, God.
Better to avoid that, she decided hastily. “I’ll wait right here while you get the box.”
“Addy—”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
Baxter gave her a wry smile. “You’ve been bothering me for six years.”
What to say to that? “Really, if you’ll just give me the box, I’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure you’re eager to return to work.”
An odd expression crossed his face.
I hate my job. He’d uttered those words that night in the darkness that he’d said was safe for secrets. She hadn’t gotten the chance to delve into the statement—he’d run as if he’d found the sentiment as startling as she did. But now wasn’t the time to discuss it with him, either. It was none of her affair, after all, even though she felt a pang of sympathy for Golden Boy Baxter for the first time in her life.
If it was true, he had to be suffering. Where did job dissatisfaction fit on the Baxter Smith Life Schedule? It wasn’t as if he could just up and leave the family business.
And now guilt stabbed her, as well. He might be in distress and she wasn’t even gracious enough to walk into his home. With a grimace, she took a step forward. “Okay, I’ll come in,” she told him. “Just for a minute. Just long enough to collect the ledgers.”
He followed her into the living room. “Don’t you want