Page 51 of All You Need Is Love

For a split second, Quinn blanched. “We literally have less than forty-eight hours until we go home. You didn’t strike me as a quitter, St. John.”

“It’s not about quitting. It’s about doing what’s right.” Turning, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and watched the water beating the rocks. “And the truth is what’s right.”

“Not always. Sometimes the truth hurts.”

He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye. She stood next to him, arms crossed over her chest, frowning as she took in the same sight he did—an ocean spanning the whole horizon, pulsing with life.

Maybe she saw something different than he did.

But he couldn’t settle for someone else’s view of the world anymore. “The lies are hurting someone you love, Quinn.”

“Are you referring to my sister?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “You do love her, right? Because she loves you. She refuses to call you out because she doesn’t want to embarrass you.”

“Well if she’s fine with it, then why aren’t you?” Leaning down, she plucked a long pink flower up by the roots.

“I wouldn’t say she’s fine with it. And I’m not either. Because …” He trailed off. Even though she held all of their fates in her hands, it was really none of Quinn’s business.

“Wait.” She faced him, absently tugging off a petal from the flower and letting it drift to the ground. “I know you like Shannon, but you don’t actually think you have a future together, do you?”

“We definitely don’t if you won’t tell the truth. Otherwise, the lies will always be between us, and people will think the worst of her.”

“And you.”

“I don’t really care about that.”

“Regardless, me telling the truth isn’t what determines if you guys have a future or not.” Quinn ripped another petal from the flower head, crushing it between her fingers. “My sister will never move to New York, and I know you’d never move to this dinky town with no job prospects. You’re too smart for that.”

Marshall wanted to grab the mutilated flower from Quinn’s hand and shove it back into the earth where it belonged. “I think she’d consider moving someday if she weren’t in the middle of adopting.”

“Maybe if the whole Noah situation wasn’t happening …”

Well, okay, not in so many words, but it was implied. Wasn’t it?

“Really.” It was a statement, not a question. “She never once even visited New York while Tyler lived there. Me, I can understand, but she and Tyler are really close. Not even after his divorce did she come, because she’s a scared little homebody who won’t leave the comfort of what she knows.”

“You don’t know her like I do.”

“No?” The flower fell from Quinn’s hand, only one petal left on the stalk—left to shrivel and die, plucked and nearly naked, without purpose. She took a step and crushed it beneath her heel. Didn’t even seem to notice, but somehow Marshall felt the heaviness of it in his chest. “Maybe you’re right. But if her own flesh and blood wasn’t enough to get Shannon out of Walker Beach, then do you think she’ll do it for a man she just met?”

Air cut off from his lungs, and he coughed. How did Quinn always know exactly where to attack to gain the full advantage over her opponents?

His cheeks burning, Marshall opened his mouth to argue, but she placed her fingers over his lips. “Remember. Don’t look like we are fighting, or I’m going to have to kiss you again.”

His lip curled in disgust—not at the suggestion, but from the vitriol she spewed. “How in the world are you related to Shannon? What happened to you? Did New York change you into this person who doesn’t care about anyone but yourself, or have you always been like this?”

Quinn blinked at him, lips tightening.

Whoops. He hadn’t meant to say all of that. Then again, maybe someone needed to put Quinn Baker in her place.

“And guess what? I know that Shannon doesn’t want you embarrassed, but I don’t really care anymore. I’m telling people the truth.” He motioned toward the wedding guests still lingering on the beach. “And I don’t care how it looks.”

He shoved past her and marched down the bluff.

“Marshall, wait! Please.”

He pivoted, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

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