“I like your brothers,” she said. “Luke too.”

The boats rocked gently in the still water.

“They’re good guys. All three of them. And Luke might as well be part of the family. He’s like a brother to all of us.” He laughed. “Well, except to Seth.”

“They seem…close.”

Subtle choice of words. “More than close. Seth’s been in love with him for years. I think he finally wore Luke down. Probably with his sheer persistence and belief they were meant to be together.” Both Zachary and Nathan had watched, amused and perplexed, as Seth decided Luke was meant for him and Luke spent eight years denying it.

The two older Paces had never harbored any doubt that Seth would finally get Luke to see things from his perspective. The two were perfect for each other.

“Nathan and Sophie seem nice too.”

“I don’t know Sophie that well. But I’ve never seen Nath happier. She’s good for him. And damn, when she’s around his voice is stronger than ever.” Nathan’s performance last night had almost brought the house down. “They both believe they were fated to be together.”

“Like you and the redhead are fated?”

Jeez, why had he even brought up the word “fated”? Zachary’s step faltered. “I haven’t thought about her since last night. Still don’t want to. Can we leave it at that?” With every minute that passed, thoughts of his redhead became less and less frequent.

“We can. I was just wondering at the coincidence of two brothers believing they were fated to be with their partners.”

“Three brothers,” Zachary corrected. “Seth thinks my grandmother sang to him about Luke years before I ever met him at college. He thinks she knew he was coming.”

“Did your grandmother also have a gift? Could she see things?”

Zachary shrugged. “Sure seems that way. She had songs for Nathan and Seth as well.”

“Eleven years ago I’d have laughed at the idea that someone could see the future. Now I know better.”

She’d given him the opening Zachary had been looking for, and he took it. “Are you ready to talk about what happened eleven years ago?” His need to know went beyond regular curiosity. Eve had somehow inserted herself in his heart, and he wanted to find out everything there was to know about her.

It was her turn to falter, but Zachary just tightened his hold on her and kept on walking.

“I told you. A window exploded. I got hurt.” She waved her hand at her side as though it was nothing serious. The quiver in her voice told him differently.

Zachary challenged her as gently as he could. “Windows don’t just explode, Tiny. They just don’t work that way. Balloons explode when they’re blown too full of air, bombs explode when they’re set off. Windows? Not so much.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “So first a bomb went off, and then the window exploded. Same thing, really.”

Chapter Eleven

Zachary tripped. Fell right over the air in front of his feet.

“Easy.” Eve steadied him. “Do that again, and you’ll land on your nose.” She went for humor, but her laugh sounded hollow.

The blood had drained from his face. All sensation, all reason hemorrhaged out of him. “Eve…”

Christ, he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t get his throat to work properly.

He planted his hands on her arms, forcing her to turn around and look at him.

“It was a long time ago, Zachary,” she said vaguely. “Hardly worth bringing up now.”

“Wh—?” Damn it. “How?”

“See, this is why I don’t talk about it. Everyone overreacts.”

Zachary closed his eyes, realized he hadn’t breathed since she’d said a bomb exploded—a fucking bomb!—and filled his lungs with oxygen. It didn’t stop the knife-like pain that wedged between his ribs.

“Okay, Eve. Give it to me in small sentences. Explain it simply so I don’t overreact.” There was no way he’d understood her correctly. She’d said something else. Something very, very different. She had to have.

The people he knew, the people he loved, were not bomb victims.

“Can we walk while I do?”

“We can do whatever you like, just tell me.” He wasn’t sure he had the coordination to walk. Putting one foot in front of the other seemed way too complex a challenge all of a sudden. But he did it. Forced himself into motion for her.

“It was long ago,” she said. “2002.”

He racked his brain to find significance in the year and came up blank.

“I was fourteen.”

Still a child. A teenager.

“My parents took the family—me, my sister and my brother—to Bali.” She sighed. “You have to understand, a family holiday somewhere outside of New South Wales was a big deal. Huge. We never went away. It just wasn’t something we could afford. So when my dad announced we were going, it was like…a miracle.”

Some fucking miracle.

“A tropical island sounded like paradise. And it was. Utterly beautiful. Heaven on earth. The beaches, the ocean. Stunning. I spent so much time in the water and the sun, I got these blond highlights in my hair. My skin was tanned golden.”

Her skin was pale now, as though she spent little to no time in the sun.

“My brother and sister were the same. We just…we had the best time. Holidays don’t get better than that.”

Bali, 2002. Alarm bells rang somewhere in the back of Zachary’s mind.

“On our seventh night there—we went for eight—we left our hotel in Kuta to eat in the town.”

“Kuta?”

“Holiday district.” Her voice faded.

“What happened?”

She sighed again, the air rattling from her chest, and he sensed her loathing to talk.

“Tiny?” He pulled her close. “Help me understand. Please.”

“We…uh…we walked there. All of us. My brother and I ran ahead, my sister hung back with my parents. The weather was perfect. Hot, humid, just right for an island.”

Silence again.

Zachary didn’t push her. An unpleasant chill at the base of his neck told him whatever he’d thought about Eve’s experience, the reality was far, far worse.

“There was a shop with some dresses in the window. I stopped to look, saw one I really liked. Knew Bree would look hot in it, so I turned back to call her to come see it. Yelled through the streets of Kuta. My, uh, my brother, Lochlan, of course, didn’t stop. Girls’ clothing did not capture the imagination of a sixteen-year-old guy.”

She’d ceased walking now, although Zachary suspected she didn’t realize it.

“I heard the first explosion. Felt it too. It roared right through me. Deafening.” She placed a hand over her ear. “Sent me flying. But…but I didn’t hear the next one. Didn’t even know there was a next one, which is funny really ’cause that second one was much worse, apparently. Much…bigger.” She tugged on the top of her ear. “In fact, I didn’t hear anything for a while after that. Not properly anyway. The explosions, I was told, damaged my eardrums.”

Zachary was frozen. Ice slid down his ribs, splintering in his chest.

Fuck, he’d never reacted like this before. Never felt someone else’s pain as deeply as he did Eve’s. What was it about her that heightened his every emotion, his every thought?

“Turns out…” Again, she waved her hand vaguely in the air. “Turns out, the window I’d been staring in saved my life. It, um, left me scarred. Really badly scarred, and it cost me heaps of blood, but…” She ran her fingers over her cheek. “It saved my life. If I hadn’t been looking in it, I’d have been standing a hundred meters down the road.” She pointed, as if staring that hundred meters down the road. “With my brother.”

Zachary followed her finger, looked in that direction, and then comprehended what she’d said. That’s when he clicked. That’s when he remembered his walk along Coogee Beach in Sydney, the monument built on the cliff tops honoring the more than eighty Australians who’d lost their lives in the Bali bombings.

Nausea slammed into him.

Christ.

Fuck.

No. Just, no.

“Eve…” He had to clear his throat. “Your brother?” He shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be so completely gutted.

She shook her head. “Lochie didn’t stop to look in that window. He just went on ahead. Without me.”

Tears prickled the back of his eyes, and God help him, Zachary was not a crier. His throat closed, forcing air to wheeze through it.

Talk.

He needed to say something. Needed to ask questions, comfort her. But fuck, he couldn’t. He wasn’t capable.

Last night, backstage, Zachary had sensed a connection between himself and Eve. It had grown over the last twenty-four hours. But this now, his reaction to her story, this was something a whole lot bigger than a connection. This was something inexplicable.

Eve’s grief was his own.

“Parents?” he finally managed to croak. “Sister?” Bree. She hadn’t been with her brother. Couldn’t have been. She’d spoken to Eve this morning.

“They found me. Found the glass too.”

“Did…” Jesus, this was hard. “Did they find your brother?”

Her voice was whisper soft. “No.”

Still Eve stared where she’d pointed, one hundred meters down the road of her memories. Did she see him? Her brother? Standing there? Or…

Nausea struck again, violently.

Or…not standing there anymore?

“The DVI officers did,” Eve said vaguely. “Days later.”

“DVI?” Fuck, he didn’t want to know.

“Disaster Victim Identification.”


Zachary offered to carry her back to the hotel. Repeatedly. But Eve suspected her legs were steadier than his.