“I know. Do you think she’s innocent?”

  “Yeah.” Mostly. I still have a few niggling doubts, but they’re really unanswered questions. Things she was too raw to answer last night. Probes that would have killed the feels between us when we needed them. “She told me pretty much everything. She’s been through a lot, man. It’s beyond awful. So when I’m done confessing everything, I need her to know that I’ve really, truly fallen for her. There’s nothing more important.”

  “All right. We can work on that. But I’ve been thinking since we last talked about this. Let me play devil’s advocate for a minute.”

  “Okay, but Bret is already doing a damn good job of that.”

  He smiles grimly. “In his shoes, I would, too. Look, you’ve known this woman for…how long?”

  “Ten days.” Admittedly, it sounds crazy.

  “I see you wincing. You get what I’m saying.” He leans in and drops his voice. “Personally, I think she’s a good human being. A really hard worker, too. But you told me yourself that she’s used to playing corporate games and winning. She has to be at least a little bit good at crafting and floating cover stories or she would never have been able to swim in the same chum-infested waters as her father.”

  “She has a good poker face,” I admit. It’s still not easy for me to read Bethany. “But once she opened up, she was brutally honest about her past. It’s not pretty. Everything she told me jibes with what I know about Barclay Reed and the events that led to his arrest. I even called an FBI agent assigned to the case and he reiterated that the feds have no intention of charging Bethany with anything. Besides, she has no idea who I am. Why would she bother to BS me?”

  “That’s a valid question. I don’t have an answer, unless she’s simply covering her tracks in general. But what I’m saying is, your brothers are going to suspect she played you. So will everyone else. I understand you don’t want to alienate her when you tell her the truth. But I also want you to make really sure she hasn’t duped you before you divulge your identity and lay your heart at her feet.”

  “Demanding proof before I tell her how I feel isn’t a good way to start a relationship that requires trust.”

  He nods as if conceding my point. “There is that. And you’ve got your mind made up. Since I’m not going to sway you—and I’m not even sure I should—tell me what you want to do.”

  “Besides get the two-ton gorilla of guilt off my chest so we can figure out how to have a future together?”

  “Yeah.” He laughs. “What did you have in mind?”

  “The whole picket fence, man. She’s the first woman I’ve met who I can see myself with long term. She’s smart as hell. Like you said, she’s not afraid of hard work. She’s gorgeous and surprisingly compassionate. We…click. Something in my gut tells me not to ever let her get away.”

  “Is that your motive for moving in with her? You’re done digging deeper into her life and her past?”

  “If I find out more about those things along the way, that’s great. But exposing her isn’t the reason I want to live with her. I’m sure it sounds crazy. If you were telling me you’d fallen in love with someone after ten days, I’d probably check your temperature, too. But everything I’ve done in life I did because it felt right, like moving to North Dakota and starting my business. Both decisions turned out good. I think the same might be true of my relationship with Beth. We just need to get to an honest place. So help me figure out how to do that, huh? In time, we’ll convince my brothers. But I keep feeling like the stolen money isn’t what’s important. Bethany is.”

  “Then like I told you before, you just gotta do it. Rip off the lies like a Band-Aid.”

  I shake my head. “It can’t hurt. She’s had enough of that.”

  “What if tonight, after you’re all moved in, you open a bottle of wine, sweet-talk her into bed, then tell her you have feelings for her and that you might have gone out of your way to meet her for the wrong reasons, but you’re all in now. She’s either going to believe you or she’s not.”

  True, but that’s asking a lot of someone who’s been betrayed by a parent she idolized for most of her life. In fact, she’s been disillusioned by men for a decade. Had her trust burned. She needs me to give her more than platitudes to believe that revenge is now the last thing on my mind.

  “You’re on the right track, but I think I have the perfect idea.”

  “Good. I hope it works out. I’d like to see you happy.”

  After lifting the last suitcase from Ash’s car, I lug it toward the front door, where I hear the women chatting and the sports channel in the background informing me that the Jaguars beat the Bills in the first Wild Card game of the playoffs.

  I glance over and notice the way Ash is looking at Samantha. “I’d like to see you happy, too. Any chance?”

  A sly grin crosses his face. “When I first got together with Sam, I was thinking no-strings sex. But she’s successfully—and creatively—put me off and forced me to get to know her. I’m digging the way she has this fun approach to life, but it’s serious, too. And you know I’ve never taken anything too seriously. Her? She’s different.”

  “I totally understand.”

  Ash claps me on the back, then drops his voice. “You got this. Just convince Beth that being with her has changed your mind.”

  I also have to convince her that being with her has changed my heart, that I came to Hawaii prepared to make her pay because I hated her. Now all I want to do is love her forever.

  “Yep. I’ll let you know tomorrow how it goes.”

  Late that night, I’m about to drop over from exhaustion, but Bethany and I are settled into our new apartment. In truth, it’s just shy of a train wreck right now. It’s a studio apartment with less than five hundred square feet. I’ve never lived in a place so run-down and cramped. It came unfurnished, so after Ash and Sam left to start their shift, we spent the afternoon at thrift stores buying a second-hand futon, a coffee table, and a couple of folding chairs, along with some mismatched dishes. At a big-box store, we bought some must-have small appliances and groceries, then lugged it all back here to organize.

  Finally, after hours of sweat-inducing work and a takeout pizza, we’re settled in. It’s a definite step down from the ohana Beth has been staying in. But our new place has a quirky charm I don’t hate. And most important, it’s ours—together.

  While we were at the big-box store, I slipped two doors down to another store while she was perusing a small table and chairs for the dining area. In less than ten minutes, I found the one thing that should convince her I love her and, despite our twisted past, I seriously want to spend my future with her.

  A gorgeous two-carat engagement ring. It’s simple and elegant and looks exactly like her.

  Hopefully, when I propose, she’ll say yes. Then, thank god, I should be able to come clean so we can start our future together.

  I’m also glad that will mean the end of my poor bartender act. I’m exhausted. Then again, who wouldn’t be after a few hours of sleep, thanks to our late-night discussion and our early-morning lovemaking, followed by hours of lifting heavy shit and carting it up two flights of stairs—no elevator—all day? Bethany looked somewhere between weary and catatonic when I shooed her into the shower and told her I’d toss some of the new sheets we laundered in the communal facility downstairs onto our crappy little futon mattress.

  And I will. Right now, I feel glued to my chair. I’m trying to muster the energy to move while staring at the black-velvet ring box in my grip, nervous as hell. Israel Kamakawiwo'ole’s chill ukulele-rich version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” plays in the background, assuring me that dreams I dreamed of really do come true. I hope so. If all the clouds were actually far behind me right now, I could believe it more easily. When I close my eyes, I can picture Beth and me, hand-in-hand, under the swaying palms, all smiles living an amazing life here together. I believe it…almost.

  But what if she doesn’t say yes? What if she can’t forgive me?

  As I hear the shower spray turn on, my phone buzzes. Who the hell is calling this late? I glance at the display. Why is Bret ringing me past midnight his time? I shouldn’t complain. At least he’s calling me after hanging up, hopefully to listen to what I’m saying about Bethany.

  “Hey, bro.”

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t be mad, but I did something. I needed to. I had to know.”

  That sounds ominous. “What?”

  He hesitates. “I drove to San Diego and broke into Bethany Banks’s apartment.”

  I vault to my feet, nerves and exhaustion forgotten. “What? Why the hell did you do that?”

  “To prove you’re wrong. She may give you good pussy, but she’s a lying, thieving snake. I needed you to see that. And now I can prove it.”

  Foreboding gongs in my chest. I force myself to take a deep breath. He can’t be right. Bethany told me herself that her father left incriminating evidence at her place for others to find, right? Bret simply fell for it.

  But I have to hear my brother out. He doesn’t understand how I feel and he doesn’t know Beth. I have to prove that I’m listening and that I care. “First of all, are you fucking crazy? You could go to jail for breaking and entering. A conviction like that could be attached to every résumé you ever float for the rest of your life.”

  “Relax. I didn’t take anything of value. And no one saw me.”

  “How do you know? Where are you now?”

  “I’m heading out of San Diego now. I drove to a mall, then waited until well after dark to hire a taxi. I paid cash. No one should be able to tie me to anything. But I got two hours alone in your girlfriend’s place.”

  I do my best to tamp down my fury. “You have no right to invade anyone’s privacy. You don’t see me snooping through your shit.”

  “Yeah, okay. So it’s underhanded. I get it. But what’s really important is the shit I found.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Admittedly, nothing at first, except the fact her apartment is almost all white. It’s so devoid of color that it’s weird. Like she has no personality.”

  “I promise you she does.” But Bethany definitely prefers neat and organized. She likes lines that are simple, colors that are crisp and unfussy. White suits her.

  “Well, the place gave me the creeps.”

  I refrain from pointing out that Bret was predisposed to not like anything about Bethany. “Her decor isn’t a reason to convict her of anything. If it was, I would have locked you up a long time ago for violating good taste with all those skateboard posters and bikini shots.”

  “Ha ha,” he returns acidly.

  “I’m serious. You don’t know her. I do.”

  “Boning her doesn’t make you an expert, either,” he spits back at me. “You think you know her, but your dick is not the most logical part of your body. Stop being a chump. I saw the evidence of her guilt tonight.”

  He’s clearly dying to tell me all about whatever “smoking gun” he’s found. He’s convinced it’s going to change my mind. I’m not sure how. Bethany has already told me so much, probably more than going through her apartment ever would. But I’d pretty much figured out that truth when I searched the ohana. At the time, I thought prowling through Beth’s stuff was simply being thorough and smart. But I didn’t start understanding the woman at all until I opened my ears and my mind.

  “Bret, look… I’m tired. It’s been a long-ass day, and I have to work tomorrow night. I’m pissed as hell at you for taking a chance that might have flushed your future down the toilet, especially for a vendetta. As much as we hate it, Dad is gone. So is the money. But think about this: he was the last person who would ever want you to risk yourself, especially for revenge. Despite what you think you saw, Bethany has told me everything. And I mean everything about how the money disappeared. I get why she had nothing to do with it. Which is also why she hasn’t been charged with a crime.”

  “Whatever she told you was bullshit. She wasn’t charged with a crime because she fucked the federal prosecutor. I saw the video, bro. I found it tucked away in her apartment. I’ll cut you some slack for being bowled over by a pretty face and a centerfold body. She looks like she’d be fantastic to bang. But get the right head in the game, bro. She’s responsible for Dad’s death. How can you let your dick get in the way of that? How are you living with yourself? Sleeping at night?”

  The bottom drops out of my stomach. I gape. Is this the video Barclay hit Beth up for? “How do you know the identity of the guy in the video?”

  “His name, James Braden, was on a sticky note in the envelope with the flash drive. All I had to do was Google.”

  The box containing the ring—the symbol of my future with Beth—drops from my numb fingers.

  She fucked the prosecutor? Funny how she never mentioned that part… In fact, she lied and told me she didn’t have the video at all. Did she film herself fucking the prosecutor to save her glorified sperm donor from prison, as Barclay seems to think? Or did she whore her body out to save herself?

  It’s an ugly fucking question, one I don’t want to answer.

  For months, I’ve been trying to fathom how she wasn’t charged with embezzlement and theft. When she confessed everything and put her spin on it, I believed her. Her explanation sounded so real and she seemed so guilt-ridden and torn. But if I take emotion out of the equation, I gotta be honest…Bret’s suggestion makes a lot more sense.

  I let out a rough breath. God, this can’t be happening. Please tell me it isn’t. I close my eyes and try to process Bret’s words away. The agony in my chest insists my brain find some other explanation. There must be a perfectly rational one, right?

  Like what? And why didn’t she tell you the truth about the video?

  I have no answers.

  Still, I refuse to jump to conclusions. I need to talk to Beth, hear her side.

  See how she’ll squirm out of this one.

  “What did you do with the video?”

  “Made a copy. I left the original there, in the envelope she used to mail it to herself. You want to check out the fine piece of blackmail for yourself?”

  Do I want to see the woman I’m in love with fuck someone else to avoid being charged with a crime? Even the thought of it cramps my gut.

  “Send it.” No matter how much I don’t want to, I have to watch. I have to see if anything on the footage indicates why she hopped into bed with James Braden.

  “I’ll do it when I get home.” Bret sighs. “I get that you’re really vibing with this chick, and she’s obviously smart enough to feed you a believable story. But it’s better to know the truth now, before you’re in even deeper.”

  Like after we were engaged?

  It feels absolutely shitty, but my brother is right.

  Behind me, the bathroom door opens and Bethany walks out with a towel wrapped around her clean hair—and absolutely nothing else.

  My jaw drops. My blood races. Guess what my cock is doing?

  How stupid does that make me?

  “Um, thanks. I gotta go.”

  Bethany sends me a catlike smile and revs my libido even more.

  “Call me tomorrow, after you’ve seen the footage,” Bret says. “Then we’ll talk about how to nail the bitch to the wall.”

  “Later,” I mutter, staring at the woman who seemed to be everything I needed and wanted in a wife…and staggering because my happy vision from mere minutes ago is now falling apart.

  “I’m serious, Clint.”

  Bret is, and he has every reason to be.

  “I know you’re trying to help. I’ll take it from here. And…thanks for looking out for me.”

  “I’ve always got your back, bro. Get your head out of her pussy and do the right thing.”

  With that, we hang up, and Bethany sways toward me. “Who was that?”

  “One of my brothers.”

  “Everything okay?”

  No. It’s a fucking disaster. I want to confront her, but on the off chance Bret somehow got everything wrong, I don’t want to accuse her before I’ve seen the video. Besides, I’m tired. I’m stupidly fucking emotional. And I also haven’t found a way to be honest with Beth myself.

  I can’t deal with any of this right now.

  As I hurtle myself out of the chair, I swoop down and clandestinely scoop up the little ring box before pocketing it. Then I turn to her. “Fine. I’m ready to call it a night. You?”

  “Well…” She sidles up to me, pressing her naked body against my bare chest and dusting kisses up my neck. “I’m ready for bed.”

  If I take what she’s offering, she’ll only cloud my head. And if she lied to me, I can’t let myself want her anymore.

  Somehow, I manage to grab only her shoulders and ease her away. “Sorry. I need a shower and some sleep.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Bethany tries to hide her crestfallen expression, but I see her hurt. “All right. Good night.”

  When she turns away, I hate to end our great—even momentous—day together on a sour note. I wish she could come clean and allay my worries, put this goddamn terrible suspicion to rest once and for all…

  “Hey.” I grab her wrist and turn her to face me again. “I meant to ask you, what was on the video your dad is after? How did you blackmail the federal prosecutor?”

  “He hooked up with a suspect.”

  That’s all she’s going to say? “Who? Anyone you know?”

  She blinks away. “No one important.”

  Her lie guts me. I release her quickly, as if touching her burns me. Fuck, if she was so easily dishonest about this question, what else was she dishonest about?

  “Gotcha. Sleep well.”

  Shaking, I turn away and shut the door between us. That ring in my pocket? I might as well throw it in the trash. I’m still going to sleep on this and wait for Bret’s video, just in case it contains something that changes my mind. But it’s wishful fucking thinking. My broken heart finally agrees with my head. Bethany has played me, and I’ve just been too dazzled to see her for the beautiful manipulator she is.