I do. But face-to-face seems better than the phone. “Where are you?”

“Look up.”

There he is, standing on the bluff a short distance from the stairs. His suit jacket is gone, sleeves rolled in a way that suggests he is ready to work on what exists between us. And with that thought, I’m intimidated all over again. Yes, intimidated. I may not have identified it as such at the cemetery, but this man played a major role in creating me, which is an intimidating idea in and of itself. Add the fact that I can’t seem to break the lock of our eyes, and I definitely feel … lesser.

I need moral support. And why not Jack? He has questions for this man, too. If Paul is willing to answer them, if he trusts me enough to trust Jack and give us answers we both need, he will have passed a test of sorts.

“Be right up,” I say, but the instant I break the phone connection with him, I head back across the sand, open Margo’s text, and reply, You all take the house. Joy and I will stay at Jack’s.

The man himself is still talking with the three on the sand, but he is on his haunches now, scrubbing his dog’s chest. When he glances my way, I wave him over. He says something to Joy before leaving, and since Guy is still wrapped around her wrist, I assume he has okayed it. By way of confirmation, she sends me a thumbs-up.

Jack reaches me with his head vaguely cocked. I can’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, but the crease between them is shallow. He is curious is all.

“Paul’s up there on the bluff,” I say with the tiniest hitch of my head behind and up. “Let’s ask him about Elizabeth.”

He glances at Paul, then returns to me with a disbelieving snicker. “Now? Don’t you want to talk about the other?”

“I need time to take it in. This will buy me a little. Please, Jack? He owes me this.” My phone dings. It’s Margo.

That’s a statement, she texts. Where are you?

Right outside, I type back. Talking with Paul. But don’t book rooms.

As soon as I send off the text, I show the screen to Jack. He has to lift his glasses to read it, and his eyes quickly brighten. “Yes?”

Nodding, I pocket the phone, slip my fingers through his and draw him along with me. Paul meets us at the top of the stairs. He studies first Jack, then me.

“I told him,” I say quietly. There’s no need to elaborate. The only subject between us, really, is the fact of who Paul is. “Jack is the only one who knew my doubts all these years.”

“You’re that close?” Paul asks, his gaze drifting between us again.