of the archives room, out of her life. But then she noticed the box in his hands, the one she’d given him permission to take...and realized she’d also given him a reason to return.
CHAPTER TWELVE
VANCE FOLLOWED HIS NOSE across the parking lot of Captain Crow’s toward the Karma Cupcakes truck. The scent of baking made his mouth water. An ocean breeze plastered the back of his shirt to his spine, displacing sweetness with a briny smell, and he wondered if he’d ever breathe in one or the other of those two aromas without thinking of this summer. Without thinking of Layla.
As he drew nearer, Phil Parker climbed out of the truck. Vance paused, a wave of guilt slapping at him. He hadn’t considered having to face the older man this morning. With the single purpose of getting things back on track with the niece, he hadn’t even remembered the uncle.
Phil glanced up as he seated himself at one of the bistro tables. He slid a dog-eared stack of travel guidebooks onto the tabletop. “Good morning,” he called with an easy smile. “Come join me.”
“I’ve come to collect Layla,” Vance replied. “I don’t really have the time.”
Phil pushed out the chair beside him with a sandal-clad foot. “I’m sure you can sit for a moment or two.”
Hell. Vance tried not to scowl as he lowered himself to the wrought-iron seat.
Phil smiled again. “So...how’re you two getting along?”
More guilt. Well, I got Layla to pretend to be my girlfriend. Worse, I ignored my scruples and listened to my inner horndog, Phil. I had wild monkey sex with your beautiful niece. Except wild monkey sex would have been less disturbing than what had really happened. He’d stroked her, enjoyed her, savored her. Even now he could feel the satin of her skin against his fingertips, hear the sweet need of her husky moans.
Instead of expressing any of that, though, he cleared his throat. “What does she say?”
“She’s been pretty quiet. I’m a little worried.”
His gut tightened. Disturbed by that visit from Fitz, Vance had kept clear of her for a couple days. That wasn’t exactly courteous behavior from a lover, no matter how temporary, how casual the hookup. But she hadn’t complained.
Instead, she’d just gone ahead with her usual routine without ever taking him to task for keeping to himself even more than usual.
No, until now he’d thought it was only him that was all messed up, still smelling her on his sheets, even though he’d changed them. Still remembering her pebbled nipple on his tongue, the rhythmic clasp of her body on his cock. The silk of her hair wound around his fingers. When she was in the same room with him he couldn’t think of anything but the taste of her.
That’s why he’d struck upon today’s plan. He was going to spin time backward, returning things to the way they were those first days at Beach House No. 9. They’d been two strangers then. On the forefront of his mind had been her father and fulfilling his promise to the man.
“The loss of my brother is eating at her,” Phil said, almost as if he’d read Vance’s mind. “Sometimes she goes still, and the sadness on her face...”
Damn, Vance thought, his gut tightening again. He didn’t want to be wondering or worrying about the state of her heart. It wasn’t his job to heal her in that way—in any way. His glance landed on one of the books in Phil’s stack. It was a Lonely Planet guidebook to Nepal, the cover showing Everest and a string of prayer flags, and it reminded him of the older man’s spiritual interests.
“You should talk to her,” he told her uncle. “Don’t you have some Buddha voodoo spell that will make it all better?”
Phil glanced down, picking at a frayed end of the macramé-and-wooden-bead bracelet he wore on his left wrist, then his gaze returned to Vance’s face. “Something tells me I’m not the one who has the magic right now.”
“Don’t look at me,” Vance said, pressing back in his chair. “What do I know about overcoming grief?”
“Buddhism teaches that you can’t overcome it,” Phil said.
“Thank you, Obi-Wan.”
The other man continued as if Vance hadn’t spoken. “And that there are two places grief can take you. Toward the negative—where you waste time desiring to undo the past or create an impossible future. Or toward the positive—where your grief gains you a new understanding of the transience of life. That gives you a greater appreciation for