Free Dark Water: A Siren Novel by Tricia Rayburn

as he seemed to forget what he was saying.
    “I didn’t do anything.” I tried to smile as my thumb traced his jawline. “Nothing worth mentioning to anyone else anyway. And I’d really, really appreciate it if you—if we—kept this morning to ourselves. Would that be okay?”
    He swallowed. Nodded. His eyes lowered from my eyes to my lips. As his face neared mine, I turned my head and focused on the sun’s glinting across the ocean’s surface. His mouth landed near my temple and lingered there. I gave it a few seconds for good measure before sitting up and explaining I had to get ready for work.
    Back in my bedroom, I watched him go. He wandered around the beach a minute, as if confused about why he wasthere, but then he focused on the kayaks and started dragging them across the sand. When he was out of sight, I dashed to the bathroom to shower and dress. My energy was holding, which helped lessen, though not eliminate, the sting of guilt.
    Ten minutes later, I hurried through the house, looking for my parents. Despite the many glass walls, it was still possible to miss each other as you moved from one room to the next, so I tried calling both their cell phones once I reached the empty kitchen. When the calls went to voice mail, I headed for the garage to check for their car—and found a note and a separate envelope taped to the door.
    Dear Vanessa
,
    Your father and I have been waiting for the perfect time to give you your graduation present. We knew you’d refuse it unless you really, really needed it … and that you’d have to get to work while we were at appointments today. So please do your best to enjoy it. If you absolutely must protest, we’ll be available for dissuasion later this afternoon
.
    We’re so proud of you and love you more than you know
.
    Below Mom’s neat handwriting, Dad had added a separate message in his crooked chicken scratch.
    Electric windows and a functioning defroster will takesome getting used to, but I know you can adjust. Because you can do anything
.
    Also, please remember to buckle up. Your mother didn’t want to cloud her note with overprotective notions, so I’ll cloud mine on her behalf. Safety first!
    Electric windows? A functioning defroster? Buckle up?
    I had to give them credit. Because if they’d been home when I opened the door and found the brand-new, forest green Jeep Wrangler in the garage, I wouldn’t have climbed in. Or taken the key from the envelope and turned the ignition. But since they weren’t and I had to get to work somehow, I did.
    I grinned as the engine rumbled to life. I’d never had my own car before; the closest I’d come was Dad’s ancient Volvo, which I used until it wheezed to a slow, final stop last spring. Because we were supposed to spend a lot of time together this summer, the plan had been to share the SUV—or so I’d thought. I realized now my parents had probably decided to do this months ago. Maybe even as soon as I’d been accepted to Dartmouth. After all, were they really going to drive me to and from New Hampshire for every break or new semester?
    But new cars weren’t cheap. Could they afford such a generous gift, especially with Mom taking such a long leave of absence from her job? And when they were concerned about selling the lake house so we could pay for the beach house?
    Get over it. That’s what Justine would say if she were here. She’d tell me it was their decision and they wouldn’t do it ifthey couldn’t. For further reassurance, I told myself that the gift wasn’t extravagant; it was practical. Safe, reliable transportation would help my parents as much as it helped me. So after calling their cell phones and leaving long, grateful messages, I buckled up and backed out of the garage.
    I’d found the Jeep with the top down and as I sped toward Betty’s, the moist, salty air provided a fresh infusion of energy. I felt so good, I even managed not to dwell on everything that had happened prior to finding