MASON HELD HIS BREATHwhile he waited for Harper to answer. He wasn’t the type to do anything rashly, but when he’d seen her car and realized she must have been on the beach, he hadn’t even thought it through. Simply stopped, grabbed the drinks and hurried over the grassy rise.
He shouldn’t have done it. It was stupid and reckless and was probably sending the exact message that he didn’t want to send. The lack of information about his sister, however, was starting to drive him batty and Harper always helped him forget his worries. She was an angel and trying to avoid her pull was nearly impossible, as evidenced by his spending all his free time at last weekend’s exhibit with her.
He’d gone home with a wide smile on his face, unable to wipe it off for a full twenty-four hours. Even speaking to the private investigator hadn’t gotten rid of all his energy. It was utterly ridiculous.
“I’d like that,” Harper said with a smile.
Mason tried to keep his chest from puffing up with pride, but it was harder than he would have expected. “Great.” He tilted his head down the boardwalk and waited for her to start. The breeze was slightly chilly, but the drink helped keep him warm, though he worried about Harper. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. “Are you warm enough?” he asked.
Harper held up her cup. “This is keeping me perfect at the moment.”
He let out a breath of relief. “Good.” He cleared his throat and put his focus back on the boardwalk. Now what? He had a stunning woman by his side, a warm cup of cocoa, the sounds of the crashing waves... Could anything really be more romantic? Or any worse of an idea? He mentally smacked his forehead. This wasn’t fair to Harper. Anybody could see that he had an interest in her, but only he knew that he wasn’t going to act on it.
Harper deserves better than that.
He cleared his throat again, regretting his hasty decision. “It’s getting colder. Maybe we ought to head back.”
Harper gave him a sad smile, as if she knew exactly what was going on. “I think that’s a good idea. I think the temperature is dropping a little too much for comfort.”
They were silent as they walked the short distance back to the cars. Mason wasn’t sure how Harper was feeling, but a sense of mourning had overtaken him. He was positive he and Harper could have had something beautiful. Something worth fighting for...but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
In his gut, he knew something had happened to his sister. Something horrific. She reminded him of Harper, in a way. Both were bright, beautiful beacons of light, making everyone in their presence smile.
But Aimee’s had been snuffed out when she’d run away after high school graduation. The day after the big celebration, she was gone. Only a small note, saying not to look for her and that she would be in touch when she was ready, had been left behind.
At first, Mason had honored her wishes. He’d been hurt, but had wanted to give his little sister her space. As time went on, however, he’d started to grow worried. Both Mason and Crew had started asking around, looking for her trail. It had been too long and she had been too quiet.
He hadn’t blamed Aimee for leaving. Their mother wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. Mason had survived by quietly going about his business, Crew had bulldozed his way through, ignoring their mother’s proper Southern teachings, but Aimee...Aimee had taken the brunt of it. As the only daughter of Mrs. Patricia Turley, Aimee had been expected to become yet another woman in the long line of Southern belles.
And she’d wanted nothing to do with it.
Aimee was much more like Crew than Mason. She enjoyed life to the fullest and flung happiness around like confetti, but whenever their mother was near, it all faded. She became quiet, subdued and someone that Mason barely recognized. Her desire to escape had come from too many years of not living up to their mother’s standards of perfection.
But it had been four years. There was no way she would stay away from her brothers this long unless something had happened. A year ago, Mason had finally given up on the idea that he could find her himself, and he’d hired a private investigator, but every lead had ended in disappointment.
She’d done a very good job of falling off the face of the Earth.
“Thanks for the cocoa,” Harper said as she unlocked her car door.
Mason blinked. He hadn’t realized they’d already gotten back. Heat crept beneath his beard as he understood he’d been stoically silent the entire walk. Well, that probably sent her the right message. He nodded and smiled. “We’ll see ya around.”
He waited until she had pulled out, then trudged to his truck. For the first time ever, he found himself angry. Truly angry. He didn’t want to let this thing go with Harper. He was tired of going home to an empty cabin, of spending his Sundays pouring over internet articles of unidentified female victims, of scrolling through countless social media profiles... He wanted his life to begin, and he wanted it to begin with Harper and him going out to dinner.
His cabin was dark when he got home, just another visual example of how he felt on the inside. His growling stomach only emphasized his heavy thoughts. “Why did you do it, Aims?” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell Crew and me where you were going?”
He let his forehead fall to the steering wheel, his misery swallowing him whole. For just a few minutes tonight, he had basked in light and joy, but reality had quickly set in, forcing him to step away from the warmth of it.
“Where are you?”
No one answered him. Of course not, he mentally snorted. Get a grip.
Taking a fortifying breath, he went inside, turned on all the lights, flipped the switch to light the fireplace and headed to the kitchen. His place wasn’t glamorous. It was slightly rustic, with wood beams across his ceiling and Western-style blankets draping his couches, but it was his, and it was warm and homey. And right now, it was all he had. His sister was still missing and Harper was nothing but a distant dream.
Not even his best friend, Ethan, knew about Aimee and it would have to stay that way. Nothing said I’m crazy like having a perfectionist mother who drove her daughter off the deep end. It wasn’t exactly the type of conversation one shared over a warm bonfire.
Mason cracked a couple of eggs into a sizzling pan and began stirring them into scrambled eggs. They weren’t much, but they’d at least take the edge off. Not to mention he didn’t have the energy for anything else. Tonight he just needed to make it all go away. Aimee’s silence, Harper’s beauty, his mother’s pride...Mason wanted it all gone.
A few bites of dinner and a soft bed. He’d face his demons again tomorrow, but at least by then he’d have the strength to do what needed to be done.