Her phone started vibrating on the kitchen counter. “Leave it.”

Piper nodded. Her phone had been unusually active since they returned from Seattle, which was another reason he’d been on edge. But just like when they’d been in the hotel lobby shopping for cologne, the phone wouldn’t quiet, dancing and jangling on the counter. “Let me just silence it,” she murmured, reaching for the device. Pausing. “Oh. It’s Daniel.” Her eyes widened a little, as if maybe she’d just remembered something. “I—I’ll call him back later.”

Brendan wanted nothing more than to get back to the conversation at hand, but when he told her that yes, he wanted kids, he didn’t need her distracted. “It’s fine. Answer it.”

She shook her head vigorously and put the phone on silent, but the unsteadiness of her hands caused it to slip. When she caught it, the pad of her finger hit the answer button by mistake. “Piper?” came a man’s voice over the speakerphone.

“Daniel,” she choked out, holding the phone awkwardly between her chest and Brendan’s. “Hey. Hi!”

“Hi, Piper,” he said formally. “Before I book this flight, I just want to make sure the grand opening is still on. You’re not exactly famous for your reliability.”

Brendan stiffened, alarm and betrayal turning his blood cold.

Here it was. The other shoe dropping.

Piper closed her eyes. “Yes,” she said quietly. “It’s still on. Six o’clock.”

“That’ll do fine, then,” her stepfather responded briskly. “There’s a flight that gets in a few hours before. Is there anything I can bring you from home?”

“Just yourself,” she said with false brightness.

Daniel hummed. “Very well. Have to run. Your mother sends her love.”

“Same to her. Bye.”

When she hung up the phone, she wouldn’t look at him. And maybe that was a good thing, because he was too winded to hide any of the dread and anxiety that had taken hold of his system. “Daniel is coming.” He swallowed the nails in his throat. “You’re still planning on impressing him with the bar. So he’ll let you come back to LA early.”

“Well . . .” She threaded unsteady fingers through her hair. “That was the original plan, yes. And then everything started moving so fast with us . . . and I forgot. I just forgot.”

“You forgot?” Brendan’s voice was flat, anger flickering to life in his chest. Anger and fear, the fear of her slipping away. Goddammit. Just when he thought they were being honest with each other. “We’ve been doing nothing but work on Cross and Daughters for the last week, and the reason you started renovating it in the first place slipped your mind? Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Yes,” she whispered, extending a hand toward him.

Brendan moved out of her reach, immediately regretting the action when she flinched and dropped her hand. But he was too fucking worried and shot through with holes to apologize and reach for her. His arms were leaden anyway. Impossible to lift. “You didn’t keep Daniel’s visit as a safety net?”

Her color deepened, speaking volumes. “Well, I d-did, but that was—”

His laughter was humorless. “And your friend Kirby? Have you told her you’re not planning on flying to LA for the party?”

Piper’s mouth snapped into a straight line.

“No, I didn’t think so,” he rasped, a sharp object lancing through his ribs. “You’ve got all kinds of safety nets, don’t you, Piper?”

“I wasn’t going to go,” she wheezed, hugging her middle. “Brendan, stop being like this.”

But he was past hearing her. Past anything but weathering the battering waves. Trying to keep the whole ship from getting sucked down into the eddy. This was it. This was the storm he’d felt coming. Felt in his fucking bones. Had he ever really had a chance with Piper, or had he been a delusional idiot? “Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?” he said, turning and leaving the kitchen. “You were never going to stay, were you?”

Piper jogged after him. “Oh my God. Would you just stop and listen to me?”

Brendan’s legs took the stairs two at a time, seeing nothing in front of him. Just moving on autopilot. “I was right here, ready to listen this whole time, Piper.”

She followed. “You’re not being fair! Everything is new to me. This town. Being in a relationship. I’m . . . I’m sorry it took me longer than it should have to let it all go, but letting everything go is a lot to ask.”

“I know that, goddammit. I do. But if you weren’t even considering this, us, you shouldn’t have kept stringing me along like one of your followers when you were just plotting your exit behind my back.”

Reaching the bedroom, he glanced back over his shoulder to find her looking stricken. And his stomach bottomed out, his heart protesting anything and everything but making her happy. Soothing her. Keeping her in his arms at all times.

What the hell was wrong with him? He hated himself for the tears in her eyes, for the insecurity in her posture. God, he loathed himself. But the fear of losing her was winning out over common sense. Over his instinct to comfort Piper, tell her he loved her a thousand times. Making him want to rage, to protect himself from being gutted like a fish.

“Look, Piper,” he said unevenly, pulling his packed gym bag out from beneath the bed. “You just need to think about what you actually want. Maybe you can’t do that when I’m constantly in your face.”

“Brendan.” She sounded panicked. “Stop! You’re being ridiculous. I wasn’t going to leave. Put the bag away. Put it away.”

His hands shook with the need to do as she pleaded. “You never told me you were staying. You wanted an out. A fail-safe. Whether you think so or not.”

“It’s a big decision,” she breathed. “But I was—”

“You’re right. It is a big decision.” He swallowed the urge to rage some more. To rage against her potentially leaving. To rage at the awful possibility of coming home from the trip and finding her unhappy. Or gone. Or regretful. But all he could do was face it head-on and hope he’d done enough to make her stay. All he could do was hope his love was sufficient. “I’m going to spend the night on the boat,” he managed, though his throat was closing. “Think about what you want to do. Really think. I can’t handle this will-she-or-won’t-she bullshit anymore, Piper. I can’t handle it.”

She stayed frozen as he went down the stairs, past a wide-eyed Hannah.

“I’ll be at the dock in the morning,” Piper shouted, coming down the stairs, her expression now determined—and he loved her so goddamn hard in that moment. Loved every layer, every facet, every mood, every complication. “I already know what I want, Brendan. I want you. And I’ll be at the dock to kiss you good-bye in the morning. Okay? You want to storm out? Fine. Go. I’ll be the strong one this time.”

He couldn’t speak for a moment. “And if you’re not there in the morning?”

Piper threw out a belligerent hand. “Then I’m falling back on my safety nets. Is that what you want me to say? You have to have it in black and white?”