Surf's Up Page 7

  “Think it would matter?” she said before he could finish his sentence. She was too upset, too angry to listen to him. “Or maybe you didn’t want me to know the truth about you so it would make it easier for you to get close to me and steal the sapphire?”

  The accusation sliced in the air between them, sharp as a knife, and cutting just as deep. “Is that what you honestly believe?”

  “What else can I believe?”

  “That I care about you,” he said, putting his feelings for her out in the open in hopes that it would make some kind of difference. “That I’d never hurt you, let alone use you to steal something that was yours.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, and for a moment Shea thought she was going to soften and give him the benefit of the doubt. Then, as he watched, her features grew cool and guarded once again. “I’d like the Padparadsha back,” she said, her tone emotionless.

  Frustrated, he jammed his hands onto his hips. “I didn’t take it.”

  She sighed, the sound rife with sadness. “Shea, I don’t want to get the police involved, but I will if I have to.”

  Unable to break through her walls, his own anger finally got the best of him. “Then you do what you have to do, Claire, because they won’t find a thing on me. I’m clean. And for the record, I didn’t tell you about my past because I was afraid you’d never give me a chance. And it’s true, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t reply, which was an answer in itself.

  He went on. “Then, when you told me about what Alan had done to you, I knew you’d run far and fast if you knew the truth about me and my past.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now,” she said quietly.

  He hated being brushed off. Hated even more that she believed the worst of him. “Yeah, it does matter, because I’m not the thief that you think I am.”

  She laughed, but the sound lacked any real humor. “But you were convicted of stealing a valuable jewel from someone. That’s kind of contradictory, don’t you think?”

  He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “Then let me explain.”

  She shook her head and took a step back, effectively putting physical and emotional distance between them. “It won’t change anything.”

  A long, brittle silence filled the room, and Shea knew that there was little he could do to change Claire’s mind. She was too wary because of Alan’s lies and deceit, and she was protecting her heart and emotions the best she could. In a way he understood her caution, but she also had to believe in him, trust in him, if they had any chance at a future together. And that was something he couldn’t force her to do, which meant this was possibly the end for them.

  “Fine,” he said, resigned. Since they were obviously done, he headed to the door, but stopped and turned before leaving. He met her gaze, and made sure she saw the sincerity in his. “Despite the mistakes I’ve made in my life, I’m not like your ex-husband, no matter what you think. When and if you’re ever ready to hear my side of the story, and give me a chance to explain about my past, you know where to find me.”

  Then, knowing any chance with Claire was entirely up to her, he walked out of her house without looking back.

  Claire crumpled up yet another sketch of a bracelet design that wasn’t transferring to paper the way she’d imagined it in her mind. With an irritated sigh, she tossed the mashed paper toward the trash can and missed, adding to the other ones that littered the hardwood floor around her desk. Zoey pounced on the new toy and began batting it across the room, playing with the ball of paper with her usual enthusiasm.

  Ever since she’d let Shea walk away three days ago, her inspiration had left right along with him. In its place was a huge ache in her heart, and a wealth of doubts and confusion about not giving Shea a chance to explain his past and his criminal record.

  Now that she’d had plenty of time to think about everything, she regretted her hasty decision to pin him with the blame and wished that she hadn’t jumped to conclusions. But having learned the news of Shea’s past indiscretion from someone other than Shea himself, she’d been too hurt and angry to listen to reason, much less anything he had to say.

  She’d told Shea that she was going to get the police involved in investigating him, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to call the detective handling the case to request that he bring Shea in for questioning. Her reluctance had to mean something, and most likely came from a deeper source—like the feminine instincts that were telling her that Shea was innocent and had nothing to do with the missing stone, no matter what he might have done in his past.

  It was a huge leap of faith, but one she was ready to make—if Shea was even willing to see or talk to her again. There was always the possibility that he didn’t want to have anything to do with her, considering the way she’d treated him.

  His reason for not divulging his secrets to her so early in their relationship was understandable, and he’d been right to believe that she would have thought twice about getting involved with him if she knew the truth about his past. But looking back, she could honestly say that he’d shown her nothing but caring, support, and passion. And she wanted to believe with all her heart that Shea’s interest in her had been real. In fact, she did believe it, which was why she was struggling with the urge to go and talk with him.

  No one was perfect, and everyone made wrong choices in their lives. Hadn’t she made her fair share? Granted, her lack of judgment hadn’t landed her in jail, but she lived with regrets just like everyone else—and had hopefully learned from her mistakes.

  It was only fair that she give Shea a chance to explain his past. And in order to do that, she had to trust in her gut instinct that was telling her to believe Shea and the person he was.

  She was ready to take that step with him.

  Her decision made, she slid off the chair in front of her drafting table. It was after ten at night, and she hoped he’d be home from the pub for the evening. She needed to change, and that would give her time to get her thoughts together and figure out what to say to him.

  As she started down the hall to her bedroom, she heard the sound of something tumbling lightly across the hardwood floor—with Zoey chasing after it. Curious to know what the feisty cat was playing with, she went to check out what Zoey had found. The feline pounced on the object, then swatted it with her paw, sending the small item skittering toward Claire’s bare feet.

  She looked down and felt her stomach bottom out.

  The light in the living room reflected off the brilliant gemstone she’d thought had been stolen. And it had been heisted . . . by her own cat. Zoey most likely had found the gem on Claire’s drafting table the night Shea had come over, and had seen it as a playful object to bat around.

  Claire picked up the jewel, not knowing whether to laugh at the irony of the situation, or cry at how much heartache the missing stone had caused her, and possibly Shea.

  She had no idea if he’d forgive her for doubting him, but no matter the outcome, she owed him a huge apology.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The moment Shea opened the door to his house and his eyes widened in surprise, Claire knew that she was the last person he’d expected to see on his front porch. She wasn’t sure whether to take that as a good sign or a bad one, but there was no turning back now, so she forged ahead.

  “Hi,” she said, offering a tentative smile. “Can I come in? I’d like to talk to you.”

  He hesitated for a heartbeat, just long enough to make her think he was going to refuse, before he finally answered. “Sure.”

  He opened the door wide, and she walked into the house, following him into his living room. Goldie came up to her and nudged her hand, and Claire gave the sweet dog a loving pat on the head before returning her attention to Shea, who was standing across the room from her. Just as she’d stood across the room from him a few days ago when she’d confronted him. Their roles had changed, giving her an idea of how Shea had felt when she’d put him on the spot the last time s
he’d seen him.

  He looked the same as he had that night—gorgeous and sexy as always, but cautious and distant, even. Not that she could blame him for putting up his defenses when it came to her, especially after she’d accused him of a crime he hadn’t committed. But that was her regret to bear, and she was here now to make amends. If he allowed her to.

  “What’s on your mind, Claire?” He sounded very businesslike, and not at all like the warm and caring Shea she knew.

  “I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past few days, and I was wrong not to give you a chance to explain about your past.” Her throat had gone dry from nerves, and she swallowed to moisten her mouth. “You told me that when I was ready to hear the truth that I knew where to find you. That’s why I’m here. I’m ready now, Shea.”

  He tipped his head, studying her through narrowed eyes. “What changed your mind?”

  Her fingers curled around the Padparadsha she’d put into the front pocket of her capris, but she’d decided not to tell him she’d found the stone just yet. She didn’t want him to think that was the only reason why she was here now, giving him the chance to explain about his past. Regardless of whether the stone had appeared or not, she’d made the decision to have this conversation with him before Zoey had made the gem’s whereabouts known.

  “I have to admit that I was very upset when I found out about your past from someone other than you. But you’re right that I would have kept my distance if you’d come straight out and told me that you had a criminal record, so I do understand why you waited.”

  He crossed his arms over his wide chest and waited for her to continue.

  “But once you were gone, something kept telling me that you were being honest with me and you had nothing to do with the sapphire’s disappearance. Call it woman’s intuition, or whatever you want, but it’s enough for me to believe in you.” She shifted on her feet, unsure whether her admission was enough to gain his forgiveness, but she wasn’t giving up just yet. “Will you tell me about your past and what happened?”

  With an unraveling sigh, he sat down on the couch and scrubbed a hand along his stubbled jaw. “It’s not a pretty story.”

  “I don’t care.” And she didn’t. All that mattered to her was his openness and honesty.

  “All right. When I told you that my father collected rare and exotic gemstones, the truth is he acquired those expensive jewels by stealing them from collectors all over the world. He loved the thrill of eluding all types of security, and capturing the elusive.”

  “He was never caught?” she asked incredulously, and sat on the sofa across from him.

  “Not once,” Shea said with a shake of his head. “He was good at what he did, and while the police always suspected he was a jewel thief, there was never any evidence or proof to convict him.”

  Shea clasped his hands between his widespread knees and stared at the space between his feet. “Growing up, I was always trying to live up to my father’s expectations, but I never seemed to please him. So, when I was twenty-one and cockier than I had any right to be, I set out to score a heist that would finally gain me my old man’s admiration and respect. I knew he was after a rare twenty-three-carat yellow diamond that was recently acquired by someone my father knew, and I wanted to get it before he did.”

  He glanced back up at Claire, a wry smile on his lips. “I actually succeeded in lifting the stone before my father did, and sure enough, my old man was plenty impressed. But even though it felt good to have finally gained my father’s approval, I never intended to keep the diamond. I had every intention of putting it back as quietly as I’d taken it, since the collector hadn’t even realized it was gone.”

  Claire had a good idea where all this was heading. “But you got caught.”

  He nodded. “Only because the woman I was seeing at the time wanted me to keep the diamond for her, and when I told her I was returning it, she got angry and went to the police and told them what I’d done before I had the chance to put it back. The next thing I knew, I was in jail and convicted of grand theft.”

  She sucked in a breath. So, Shea had dealt with his own form of betrayal. True, he’d been wrong to steal the diamond in the first place, but to have the woman he cared about turn him in must have been devastating.

  “Luckily, since I didn’t have a prior record, and I returned the stolen jewel, I did very little time,” he went on. “But that experience was enough for me to swear off any idea I might have had about making it a career as my father did. Despite my old man’s disappointment, I’ve been clean ever since,” he said pointedly.

  She knew exactly what he was insinuating—that he had no connection to the sapphire that had gone missing. “I know, and I owe you an apology,” she said.

  He frowned, confusion and uncertainty clouding his gaze. “For what?”

  “For believing the worst. For not trusting in you.” Standing, she retrieved the Padparadsha from her pocket, walked closer to him, and opened her hand so he could see the glittering gemstone nestled in her palm. “I’m truly sorry I ever doubted you or your intentions, Shea.”

  He glanced at the jewel, and then back up to her face, his caution reappearing again. “Are you saying that just because you found the sapphire and now know for certain that I had nothing to do with its disappearance?”

  His entire body had gone tense, but she sat next to him on the sofa anyway, refusing to let him withdraw now that they’d come so far. “I know that’s how it appears, but I came to the decision to trust in you before I found the sapphire. Or rather, before Zoey made its whereabouts known.”

  “Zoey?” he repeated in disbelief.

  “Yeah, Zoey’s the culprit,” she said, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. “She must have found it on my drafting table and knocked it to the floor when she was playing with it. I found her batting it around right before coming over here.” She bit her bottom lip, then asked the most important question of the night. “Can you ever forgive me for believing the worst?”

  “Only if you can forgive me for not being honest with you up front about my past.”

  Placing her hand on his cheek, she rested her forehead against his. “I already have. I don’t care what happened years ago. All that matters to me is the man you are now. And since we’re being so open with one another, I have to confess that I’m falling hard for you, Shea O’Brien.”

  “Thank God,” he breathed, the sound filled with an abundance of relief.

  She laughed, feeling lighthearted and incredibly happy. “I take it that’s a good thing?”

  “Very good, because I fell for you a long time ago and I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for you to catch up to me.” He grinned, and that was all it took to ignite the attraction between them.

  “I think I’m already there,” she said, and proved her feelings for him by giving in to the strong desire to kiss him, push him down on the sofa, and have her wicked way with him.

  PARADISE BOSSED

  MaryJanice Davidson

  For Daniel and Lisa, who introduced us to the real paradise that is Little Cayman.

  Also, thanks to the Cannon Falls Bombers, and all those pep rallies back in high school, which have made the Cannon fight song stick into my brain like a fishhook.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The events of this story take place about a year and a half after the events in “The Fixer-Upper” (Men at Work, Berkley Sensation anthology, December 2004). Also, snorkeling is usually a harmless activity.

  “Cannon, Cannon, loyal are we.

  Red and black we’ll shoot you to victory.

  So fight fight fight our motto will be.

  Rah-rah-rah and sis-boom-bah!

  Fight fight fight fight!

  Go for the red and black!”

  —Cannon Falls High School Fight Song

  “You’d bitch if they hung you with a new rope.”

  —Alexander Davidson III

  “I see dead people.”

  �
��In your dreams . . . while you’re awake? Dead people like in graves? In coffins?”

  “Walking around like regular people. They don’t see each other. They only see what they want to see. They don’t know they’re dead.”

  —From The Sixth Sense

  PROLOGUE

  St. Paul, Minnesota

  February 21, 1975

  Jack watched with interest as his sister’s nosy-body neighbor dragged a GP (General Psychic) into his house.

  It was actually his sister’s house; it had passed to her on their parents’ deaths. But they both knew whose house it really was. Jack had lived there for many years. His sister was getting on, but he felt just the same.

  “You can’t mean to live like this,” Nosy-body was saying. “Who lives like this?”

  “Well.” His sister looked around helplessly, but Jack decided not to come to her assistance, this once. She really did need to learn how to stand up for herself. It was his fault she couldn’t, and now it was too late. Forty years too late. But if an old dog like him could learn, maybe she could, too. “Well, we get along fine, Jack and me.”

  “No, no. You must get him out. You can’t have a—a dead thing running amok in your own house. It’s—outrageous! Your chakra and your aura are completely screwed up.” Nosy-body rattled the purple beads around her neck as if to make a point. She was wearing a black T-shirt that had a pair of giant red lips on the front. She was an infant at twenty-seven.

  “Well, it would have been Jack’s house if he hadn’t broken his neck in the basement,” his sister said reasonably, and Jack almost groaned. “Really, I think of it as his house.”

  The medium, who hadn’t said a word to that point, was looking around at the carefully kept Victorian with an almost bored look on his face. He was holding hands with a small, curly-haired blond boy, a boy with the bluest eyes and dirtiest green coat Jack had ever seen. The child looked like an angel down on his luck.