And he’d been right when he’d said he was good at this game. He was good. But maybe because pain recognized pain, she could easily see his lie.
A few minutes ago Jacob had wanted nothing more than to have five minutes alone with Sophie’s ex for ever making this warm, sweet, sexy, amazing woman hurt, however he’d hurt her.
But then she’d switched the game up on him, put him beneath the microscope, and that sucked. He waited while she studied him, but it sure wasn’t easy, not after he’d just unintentionally stripped himself bare-ass naked for her.
Or maybe it had been intentional. Maybe he’d wanted someone to hear him, to forgive him.
Turning the bottle in his hand, he studied the way the light from the boat’s control panel shined through the liquid, which was how his legs felt at the moment. Liquid. Good thing he was sitting down.
Her voice washed over him. “Four’s the lie.”
He didn’t ask how she knew. Somehow, as the night had fallen, the sky going black, cocooning them into the illusion that they were entirely alone on the planet, creating a sensation of intimacy, it didn’t matter that she’d seen right through him.
“And you cheated too,” she said. “Because it was only half a lie. You came back, but it wasn’t natural at all, was it?”
He slowly shook his head.
Unbelievably, she used his own tactic against him and waited him out. He couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that before.
Nor had he ever cared. He told himself he didn’t care now, that the Scotch had just gone to his head. But the truth was that Sophie Marren had gone to his head. Sophie of the sharp yet somehow vulnerable eyes, Sophie with the sweet laugh and sexy body, just out of arm’s reach… “I made a mistake in walking away from my family like I did,” he said. “At the time I thought I had no choice, but I was wrong, something I didn’t realize until…” Christ. He closed his mouth, unable to spell it out.
Sophie slid her hand into his and squeezed as if she was willing her strength to become his. “Your brother-in-arms died,” she finished for him gently.
“Brett,” he managed. “Killed in a roadside bombing.”
Soft green eyes cradled his. “I can’t even imagine,” she said. “But you know it wasn’t your fault, right?”
“Yeah.” He paused and then admitted the rest. “But I feel guilty all the same.”
“Life’s unfair,” she said. “Bitterly so. But being home again must be a bittersweet silver lining?”
Because her gaze was so clear and deep, making him feel exposed, something he didn’t do ever, he closed his eyes. “Coming here is about guilt too,” he said. “I just kept thinking if it’d been me who’d died, Hud would’ve gotten a letter or someone at the door. After all those years of not seeing him, a stranger would’ve had to say good-bye for me. I was selfish to stay away from him for so long.”
“What about your mom?”
He opened his eyes and stared at her. Shit. She was a sharp one. “I’ve seen her,” he said, admitting a truth he’d told no one before, not even Hud. “I came into town whenever I was on leave to check on her.”
She raised a brow. “Hud didn’t know?”
He shook his head. “We fought right before I left, when we were eighteen. He said…”
He let out a breath, remembering it as if it were yesterday.
“What?” Sophie asked quietly. “He said what?”
“He said if I left, I should stay gone because we were no longer brothers.”
“Oh, Jacob,” she breathed. “And you believed him?”
“I absolutely believed him then,” Jacob said. “And by the time I didn’t, too many years had gone by. It was too late.”
“I believe it’s never too late.” She cupped his face and stared into his eyes, her own glossy and a little bit crossed as she focused in on him with such fierce concentration that he had to smile.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I don’t want to take away from this conversation we’re having,” she said slowly, “but I think I’m maybe a little bit drunk. And you should know, when I’m drunk, I’m always right.”
That wrung a low laugh out of him.
“No, I’m serious. I know I’m responsible for what happened to me, for letting my emotions take over, for choosing this boat over the house. I was stupid and childish, but luckily, I learn from my mistakes. And part of what I learned is that love isn’t for me. I just don’t have the same level of emotions I used to have. It’s…broken. I’m broken. But I know that about myself and I’ll use that knowledge, making sure I keep relationships light. Open. Not love.” She paused and looked at him from beneath hooded eyes. “What did you learn from your mistakes?”