“What were you arguing about with Rafe this morning?”
“Huh?” He stopped walking and looked at her. “What?”
“You and Rafe. I saw the two of you arguing just before they got in the launch to leave.”
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “It was nothing. Just my brother poking his nose in again. Like always.”
“I think it would be wonderful to have family like that. People who care enough about you to get into your business.”
He snorted. “Sounds good in theory.”
Something was wrong, she’d been feeling it ever since his family left. “Sean, what’s going on? You seem a little…tense.”
“No. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“A lot of things.” He pushed one hand through his hair. “Mostly, at the moment, my annoying brother.”
She smiled at the irritation in his voice. “What did he say?”
“Oh, he’s full of advice, Rafe is,” Sean told her wryly. “Not so good at taking it, but excellent at dishing it out.”
“You want to tell me about it?”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it, and Melinda’s heart gave a little lurch. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Do I tell you or not?”
Irritation blossomed just beneath the hurt, and she welcomed it. Better to be angry than in pain. “I’d rather know, whatever it is.”
Sean looked at her as if trying to decide what to do, and his blue eyes were shadowed with emotions she couldn’t read. “I don’t like secrets.”
“Neither do I.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “We’ll see.”
Then he started talking. He told her about his first marriage and with every word he spoke, Melinda’s heart broke a little for him. To be used that way. To have something and then have it ripped away. She felt the old pain in his voice and read the carefully banked emotions in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said when he was finished.
He bent down, picked up a rock and threw it. After a second or two, it clattered against more rocks some distance away. Then he walked toward her, closing the distance between them in a few long strides. He wore faded jeans, a dark blue Henley and the boots she was becoming way too fond of. But the look on his face was dark. Haunted.
Instinctively, Melinda reached out to hug him. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on tightly. He didn’t respond at first, and that tore at her. But she held on, and, after a moment or two, he returned the embrace, resting his chin on top of her head.
“I’m sorry she hurt you.”
“It was a long time ago. She doesn’t matter anymore.”
Melinda pulled back and looked up at him. “I can’t believe you didn’t know she was lying.”
“Good liars are hard to spot.” He stepped back from her.
“I suppose, but no one’s ever lied to me like that.”
“Oh, Melinda…” He shook his head, snorted a laugh and turned his gaze from hers. “If you knew.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” His jaw was clenched tight as if he were holding back a flood of words clamoring to get out. “Never mind.”
“Oh no,” she countered, taking his arm and holding on. “If you have something to say to me, say it.”
“There’s no point.”
“What are you talking about?”
He stepped away from her, shoved both hands into his back pockets and propped one boot on a rock beside him. “Melinda, I’m in a piss-poor mood. Now’s not the time. Let’s just go, and forget all about this.”
“No,” she repeated. “There’s something you want to say, so say it, Sean. It’s been eating at you all day. Do you think I can’t see it? Tell me.”
He studied her for a long minute, then seemed to come to a decision. “Fine. You said you’d rather know the truth than have secrets?”
“Yes.” Warning bells were going off inside her, but she didn’t listen. Everything in her braced for whatever was coming and still, she was unprepared.
“Okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck, locked eyes with her and said, “I’m not the only one who can’t spot a liar. You didn’t notice that your beloved Steven was robbing your grandfather blind.”
“What?” She staggered back a step, shock draining the blood from her brain until she felt almost light-headed.
He gave a short, harsh laugh. “Yeah, the wonderful Steven was a con man with dozens of poorer but wiser women in his background.”
“You’re lying,” she whispered as a cold, tight band wrapped itself around her chest. She couldn’t breathe. Spots danced in her vision, and she shook her head to clear it.
“I don’t lie.” He held up one hand. “Wait. I guess I do. Because I’ve known about that jackass fiancé of yours for days and didn’t say anything.”
“How? Why?”
“I had my cousin Garrett do some checking into Steven’s background. Wasn’t hard to find.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and rubbed them both over his face as if he could somehow wipe away this whole afternoon.
It didn’t work though, and Sean was forced to watch her as the truth slammed home. He should have kept quiet. Damn Rafe and his advice to tell Melinda the truth. To let her know what kind of man Steven was so that she’d be ready to take a chance—a real chance—with Sean.
Why in the hell would she want to be with the man who had shattered her nice, pretty world? God, he was an idiot for listening to his brother. Rafe had advised coming clean. Telling Melinda about what Garrett had discovered—but mainly, confessing to her that he loved her. But he didn’t see the second half of that plan happening now. And the minute he got back to Long Beach, he would punch Rafe dead in the face as a big thank you.
But for now, he was standing opposite the woman he loved and watching as he slowly destroyed everything she had believed in.
“You’re wrong. Steven wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t steal from my grandfather.”
“Damn it, Melinda!” Frustration bubbled over, and there was no stopping what he said next. “See the truth! He was a thief and a liar. He was planning on taking your money and dumping you. He’d already stolen from your grandfather and would have been arrested that last day but he died first, the bastard.”
Her mouth fell open and a single tear slid from the corner of her right eye. Sean tracked its progress, along her cheek, like a sunlit diamond. She didn’t wipe it away and no more followed.