“No.” She stood and faced him. For a few long beats, neither of them spoke. It was as if, in that space of time, there were no words—not a single thought forming in his mind.

The past drifted away, and all that was left was Louisa. Her soft skin. Her red hair. Her barely noticeable freckles that would surely pop once she got more sun.

The air sizzled between them, and the only thing he could think of was her lips, full and pink, and the way they might taste.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered again. “And I know your dad would do the same thing again if given the choice.”

He didn’t want to think about that right now. He’d been trying not to think about it for days.

“I have to go.” He didn’t like the way she made him feel, unsteady on his own two feet. Like he could fall at any moment, like she might even be there to catch him. He didn’t wait for her to respond. He walked around her toward the door, aware that she followed close behind.

Of course she did. This was Louisa. They’d almost shared a moment—she was going to see it through.

“Do you really think my mom and your dad were having an affair?” she said to his back.

“Forget it, Lou. Pretend you never heard me say that.” He’d almost reached his Jeep when she grabbed his arm. He forced himself not to think about how it felt to be touched. In recent years, he’d rarely allowed that from anyone other than the people he was rescuing. When they clung to him, it was out of sheer terror. What would it feel like to have someone cling to him simply because they wanted him?

“You know I can’t forget it,” she said.

He faced her then, and he wished he hadn’t. He wanted to kiss her. He remembered the way her kisses made him feel—invincible.

Was she remembering too?

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said.

He glanced down at her hand on his arm, and she quickly pulled it away. He instantly noticed the absence of her soft skin on his. He wrestled with the desire to take her in his arms right there and show her just how much he’d missed her.

“Cody?” Her eyes pleaded with him. Who was he kidding? He never could say no to Louisa.

“I don’t even know, Lou.” He paused. “Maybe it’s nothing, but your mom called him Danny. She was the only person I ever heard call him that.”

“I’m sure other people called him Danny. It’s not an uncommon nickname.”

“But not often, not like your mom.”

She looked away.

Cody shifted. “I know it’s a long shot, but could your mom have left this note?”