Page 78 of The Pretender

“I’ve seen you naked.” Some of the color came back to her cheeks. A flicker of amusement showed in her eyes.

He took those as good signs, but he still wanted to be sure she understood he planned to touch her. “I don’t want to traumatize you.”

She shook her head. “There is nothing scary about the way you look.”

If there was a record for getting clothes off, he broke it. The jeans weighed about a thousand pounds and twisted and stuck to him as he tried to peel them off. But before she could say a word he dragged them all down, kicking off the last pants leg, and stood next to her naked.

He tested the water one more time then gestured for her to go first. “Get in.”

The sharp inhale of her breath bounced around the room as she submerged one foot then the other. “Are you trying to boil me?”

Women. “Yes, Gabby. I’m into that.”

“We’re going to soak the bathroom.”

“As if I didn’t plan for that.” He was impressed with how confident he sounded because he wasn’t actually sure of the physics of this. He hadn’t filled the tub and he kept the jets off, but when they sank down together the water level rose to near-spillage proportions.

As soon as he sat down with her back leaning against his chest he didn’t care if they flooded the whole island. An “ah” escaped him as the hot water seeped into his bones. He’d been worried aboutherand wanting to givehercomfort. He hadn’t realized how much he needed it, too.

There with her, body against body, his brain finally turned off. He’d spent days mentally running through scenarios to explain Tabitha’s death. He’d searched for ways to tell Gabby about where he was that night but couldn’t come up with one that didn’t end with her slapping him and leaving.

He’d assessed the suspects and analyzed their moves. He’d seen bank statements and emails—whole lives spilled out in front of him. All of those calculations vanished when he saw her sprawled on the grass in the dark tonight, calling out his name.

He closed his head and shifted until his head hit the small pillow connected to the back of the tub. From this angle, her hair tickled his neck and rubbed against his chin. Looking down the long perfect line of her body he watched her knee peek out of the water then disappear again. The next time her foot broke through the surface, she rested it against the faucet. Her pink-painted toes fascinated him. So feminine. He almost wanted to watch her paint them, to see the concentration on her face as she got them just right.

Her head fell to the side, right next to his bicep. For a second he wondered if she’d dozed off. That worked for him. He’d lift her out and dry her off when their skin started to prune.

“I keep wondering if Tabitha’s last moments were like what happened today,” she said in a soft, almost distant voice.

Where the hell had that come from?His stomach dropped. He skimmed his fingertips up her arm, hoping to lull her back into a relaxed state. “Don’t think about that now.”

The water splashed as she dropped her foot into the water. “She had to be terrified. I knew you were nearby and screamed for you, but she didn’t have anyone with her. Kramer and I were down by the dock, so far away.”

“God, Gabby. I’m sorry.” He had so much to apologize for. He didn’t even know where to start, but he knew she’d tie this one to how long it took for him to get to her. Too late. She’d rescued herself before he got down the hill.

Her fingers curled around his wrist. “No, that’s the thing. I knew you’d rush in if you heard me. That’s who you are.”

He was a liar.Thatwas who he was. A man who said one thing and did another. The fact that she believed in him or saw him as some sort of hero meant everything but it wasn’t real.

“This sense of hopelessness washed over me. When my knees hit the ground, this huge surge of energy rushed through me. Suddenly, I was desperate to fight, but it’s like I was paralyzed at the same time.” Her muscles tensed as she talked. “I fought and kicked but it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t get enough momentum... didn’t have enough strength.”

One of his arms wrapped around her waist and he dropped his head until his cheek touched hers. Holding her close was as much for him as it was for her.

“She made these questionable choices. Lived her life so privately, so insular.” Gabby sighed as she relaxed against him again. “My parents messed up but she... I wish so much had been different.”

The words didn’t fit with most of what she’d said before. Gabby talked about her sister being sweet and dedicated. This was the first time Harris heard Gabby suggest any real frustration with her sister. Sisters fought. Sisters disagreed. To hear Gabby talk, Tabitha was a saint except for the map and the kidnapping, and Gabby even absolved her for that. Both with words and how she’d lived her life.

The slight change in direction filled him with relief. He’d worried Gabby was rewriting history to erase her sister’s flaws. A normal reaction, probably. Harris had seen it before, but holding the dead up as paragons actually robbed them of who they were. Worse, it made the living seem even more flawed.

“It’s okay to be angry with her, you know.” Harris continued to brush a hand up and down Gabby’s arm.

She froze. “What are you talking about?”

“I spent years being pissed off at my mom. She made decisions that put something before me, that took her away from me. She risked our family, ruined it, because she had this compulsion. I didn’t understand it and tried to figure it out.” That last part was hard to admit, but he did it.

Gabby looked up at him. “Your mom made a choice. Tabitha didn’t.”

“She decided to let you take the blame. She decided to separate herself. She decided to, in some ways, be the victim.”

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