Echoes Read Online Free Page B

Brad, but he hated the tone that made him sound like a child or servant who needed quick direction so she could get back to what mattered. "Sofie's here."
    It was an excuse to interrupt, and Rese just nodded. "Okay. Great. I'll be in shortly."
    He almost folded his arms and said, "I'll wait." But that would have been childish. As Sofie had said, he was the one who'd given up their plan and left Rese to reestablish things with Brad. Now he had to deal with it. "Need anything?"
    She shook her head and put a few more inches between herself and the rugged graying guy in jeans and faded T-shirt. "No. Thanks."
    He left them alone together, a slow burn in his gut. Only by grace had he come through the fires of vengeance to the peace of forgiveness. Would he stumble on jealousy now because Rese would smell like Brad's smoke and carry their argument in the tendons of her neck?
    Since she worked long and drove far, he'd planned later and later dinners. Even so, he'd fed the household an hour ago, and there was no telling, tonight, how long she'd lock horns with Brad before even thinking of food. Maybe he should invite her partner in for a bite, see exactly what their dynamic looked like.
    He'd only encountered the man one other time, and it had been his own neck in the noose that day, not Brad's. In fact, Brad had tried to solicit his help in convincing Rese to work with him again. Unwittingly, he'd done just that. His jaw clenched.
    As Nonna made her way to the carriage house through the garden, he tried to look as though he hadn't just plotted a hundred ways to poison Brad's plate. She gripped his forearm and said, "Tutto è permesso in guerra ed in amore." Ah, they agreed. All was fair in war and love.
    Brad came out of the workshop, shutting the door harder than necessary. He came around and paused. "If I didn't love her, I'd strangle her." He tossed his cigarette and stalked on by.
    Okay, then. Lance didn't proffer the invitation he'd considered. He picked up the butt and carried it to the trash in the kitchen. The aroma of the saltimbocca prepared in honor of Sofie's arrival lingered. Rese's portion awaited, but his mood had soured. He left the kitchen and joined Sofie in the long front parlor.
    The room had been furnished as a gathering place for guests of the inn when Rese's plans had included him. He plopped down on an ottoman and took up his guitar, thrumming the strings lightly, then striking up a stentorian melody.
    Sofie glanced up from her text. "Are you okay?"
    "He loves her."
    Sofie sat back. "What are you going to do about it?"
    He shook his head. "I don't know."
    "Are you doing everything you can this time to make it work?"
    Valid question. She knew his history. But so many things had changed since he'd walked into this villa and talked his way into Rese's life. He'd changed, become more what he really was, more what he was meant to be.
    One thing that hadn't changed was Rese's independence. What would a relationship look like with someone who didn't need him, whose resilience matched his, whose resources he couldn't equal? He ran his fingers up the neck of the guitar in a lilting melody and realized he might be the only one clinging to what they'd had.
    Long after Brad had left and Sofie went to bed, he heard Rese come in to shower off a day's work and a head of steam. A song started in his head and he played along.
    Knots of steel in flesh like bone, can't let go, can't let it show,
    What you feel inside, alone, don't let it show, let anyone know,
    How you feel . . . all made of stone . . . alone .
    It wasn't about Brad. It was about Rese—the inroads they'd made, the ground he'd lost. It was about trust and how much he cared. She had turned to him months ago when she'd learned her mother was alive, when she'd dealt with her dad's lies and accidental death. Since then, like too many others, he'd betrayed her trust and her love. How could he expect her to try again? She could take care of herself. She always