She just barely missed nicking one of her fingers with her thin knife. “It’s okay.”
“Shannon, if someone lies to you, it’s not okay.” Thwack, thwack, thwack.
“You’re right. It’s not okay.” Tomato juice squirted across the board. “So, why did you do it?”
Silence filled the space between them.
Finally … “I don’t want you to think less of me when I tell you.”
Why did he care what she thought? Heat flushed through her. “I’ll try to keep an open mind.”
“Quinn promised she’d recommend me for an upper management position at work.”
“You’re lying to get a promotion?” That didn’t sound like the Marshall she’d come to know. Maybe she’d only fooled herself into thinking the guy she’d met on the beach last weekend was really a prince.
“It sounds really bad when you put it like that.”
“Sorry.” Picking up the cutting board with one hand, she used the knife to scrape the tomatoes into a glass bowl. Then Shannon snagged the green onions she’d bought. “What about your job do you love so much that you’re willing to go to such great lengths?”
“Are you kidding? I don’t even like my job half the time.” He paused. “Hey, I’m done. Where do you want these?”
“Over here.” With the knife, she pointed to the bowl of tomatoes.
Marshall poured the result of his labor into the bowl. The scent of freshly cut onion filled Shannon’s nose. “You have more for me to do?”
Evaluating what she had left to chop, she handed the green onions off to him. “Do two of these, please.” Then she took the jalapeño off the counter and washed it. “So if you don’t like your job, why do you work there?”
“I’m good at it. And I’m building up a nest egg.” He shrugged then went back to the cutting board. “Right now I make beans compared to upper management.”
She cut the seeds from the jalapeño core. “Sure, it’s nice to have money. But what about doing something you love? Something that makes you happy?”
“Most people don’t get that luxury. Besides, life isn’t about happiness. It’s about finding purpose. And one way you find that is to set goals.” Marshall grunted. “My dad used to say that when you reach one goal, you set another and another. You never stop climbing, never stop reaching for success—whatever that means to you. And even though I don’t have one iota of respect left for the man, I think he has a point. To get anywhere in life, you need to have a goal.”
She stopped chopping and turned to look at him. Why didn’t he respect his dad? Shannon wanted to ask, but the moment didn’t feel right. Still, his views on life—and work—made her long to give him a hug.
Well, she couldn’t do that.
He looked up, met her gaze. “You got really quiet. What are you thinking?”
“That just seems like a really hard way to live. Like you could never be content or satisfied with what you have.”
“I can see what you mean, but it’s better than sitting around being complacent, isn’t it? Better than letting life pass you by without fighting for what you want?”
Something in his comment tapped at a corner of her heart, asking it to open. Shannon frowned. “And what you want is this promotion? That’s what gives your life purpose?” And was he equating purpose with meaning? What a sad thing, for a job to define him—especially when she could somehow see, despite the lies, that he was so much more.
“Marshall, first of all, if you are as hard a worker as you say you are, then I don’t think you really need my sister to recommend you.” Into the bowl went the jalapeño. “And second, you are more than what you do. You know that, right?”
Shannon washed her hands and started toward the cupboard to gather the spices she’d need to complete the salsa, but Marshall stepped in front of her, his fingers lightly grasping her elbow. “Shannon, thank you. I …”
The air around them grew static, full of something charged. He wrapped his hand fully around her waist, gently tugging her toward him till she finally took a step closer. Her hands found a home on his chest and she fiddled with one of the little white buttons on his shirt.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as Marshall swallowed, his gaze flicking briefly to her lips. As he leaned down, she smelled the mint on his breath.
Her heart hammered. Oh, how she ached to finally be kissed.
How she ached to be kissed by Marshall.
But Shannon held up her hand to his lips, effectively stopping him from moving closer. Because she still couldn’t trust him, right? Besides, what good would it do to allow herself to be pulled in by him? It’s not like they could have a relationship. The whole town thought he was with her sister, for goodness’ sake.