a brief second. “You wouldn’t eat if someone didn’t force you to.”
“I’d forget?”
He grinned, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “You’re a picky eater, Scarlett.” He tapped his temple. “It worried me.”
Even back then, I worried him. I had to clear the emotion from my throat. “What made her keep you from me, Brando?”
“I did what I wanted, when I wanted. That doesn’t suit some parents.”
“It didn’t suit Pnina, therefore Everett.”
“She made the right call.”
The way he said the words, I knew that part of the conversation was over. A quiet descended; if one of us didn’t break it soon, it would become hard and ruin our night. That hadn’t been my intent.
“Where will you hang it?” I asked. “Or will you? I mean, I don’t want to be presumptuous— ”
He turned to me then, and the intensity radiating from him caused me to quiet. “Yeah.” His voice caught in his throat. He cleared it before speaking again. “It already has a space.”
I nodded, not sure what else to say. “I should—”
He caught me before I made it out the door. He held me in place, staring at me, until he leaned in close, his warmth spreading over me like a satin blanket against naked skin. A trembling breath left my mouth at his nearness.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and then placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “Now pack your things, Ballerina Girl. It’s time to go.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Scarlett
I had always been with him, even if my body had not.
Brando’s old Chevy idled in the driveway of my parents’ house. The leather seats beneath the thin dress felt like ice. But after he put my things, and his gift, behind the seat, I scooted over next to him, thankful for his natural heat.
He had parked the old Chevy underneath a mammoth oak tree, its hair of Spanish moss flowing with the breath of a strong winter’s wind. Deep in the shadows, the shelter only seemed to make the cold feel that much colder.
Brando cranked over the key, the motor starting with a roar. After the initial rush, it settled, and a slight humming filled the quiet. Even though Brando was warm, the heater added another level of protection to ward off the chill. I took a deep breath in. The warm air stirred up the smell of leather, chocolate sucker, his cologne, and roses.
We sat as idle as the Chevy, turned on, but neither of us spoke or moved. Brando had seemed distant after I gave him the memory board. Not from me, but from life in general. Part of it was Elliott, I knew, but I had the distinct feeling it was something else—something that felt a lot like deliberation. And of course, there were my parents and their friends.
As if to prove my thoughts correct, we both sighed, one right after the other. Being immersed in that crowd for even short periods of time felt a lot like being immersed in a deep Russian winter. The entire scene stole the moisture straight from the skin, could really age a person.
I left him to his quiet while my own thoughts seemed to thaw and float. Nothing pressing came to mind, so I studied the old house with its many columns and its line of ancient oak trees in the darkness. Under the glow of the moon, it reminded me of an old civil war ghost. The Cane River sat behind the historic estate and, at night, became a mirror to the stars. The water became as black as the velvet sky, a perfect host to its starry opposites.
Without thought, my hand found his, needing to feel his skin against mine. Ever so faintly, I ran my fingertips back and forth over his knuckles. I leaned in even closer, settling my arm around his, and crossing one leg over the other. My thin satin dress glided to the side, exposing bare skin.
He missed nothing. His eyes caught the movement and held for the briefest of seconds before he gave me his profile once again. A sigh escaped his lips, something I didn’t hear from him often.
A satisfied smile came unbidden to my face. “Do I trouble your mind, Brando Piero Fausti?”
“More than I care to admit.”
I rested my head against his shoulder, nuzzling even closer to him. That’s when I noticed them. Three pictures sat on the dashboard. I had to strain my eyes to make them out in the darkness.
I moved in closer for a better look. The first picture