“Yeah, I knew you were going to say that. I thought maybe I could fool you.”

“I know you pretend to be a tough guy, but the act is wasted on me. I saw you reading a bedtime story to your daughter tonight. Hardly a macho act.”

Instead of teasing her back, as he usually did, Parker stared out at the ocean. “That damn book,” he muttered.

The day had been warm. He wore a red polo shirt tucked into tailored shorts. She’d tried not to notice his long, lean, tanned legs as he’d walked around the house. Thank goodness it was too dark to see them clearly now. But she could see the sadness twisting his mouth and the restless stirring of his hands as he first gripped the railing, then folded his arms over his chest. His brooding emotions doused her heat as effectively as a cold shower.

She moved closer still, this time spurred by compassion rather than desire. “What book?”

“Christie’s book on families. That’s what I was reading to her tonight.”

“I don’t understand.”

He shrugged. “It’s about what makes up a family and explains how families can be different, so long as they work. It made me think about-”

“Robin?” she asked quietly.

“I wish. That would be easy. It made me think about my folks.”

“What about them? Do you want them to meet Christie? I wouldn’t mind. They must be very proud of you and all you’ve accomplished.”

He laughed harshly. “You’d think so, but they don’t give a damn.”

“Parker, I’m sorry.” She leaned against the railing and stared up at him. She and Stacey had lost their parents at a young age. She would have given anything to have been able to change that. All she and Stacey had cared about was being part of a family again. Why couldn’t people realize how lucky they were before they lost everything?

“I tell myself they’re unhappy people,” he said. “When I was growing up they never talked. I would go to friends’ houses for dinner and their parents actually talked to each other. Not my folks. The television always played at dinner, no one ever spoke.”

“How did you get into computers?” she asked.

“A science project in junior high. I had a weird teacher who encouraged exploring different things. I wanted to learn what made a computer work so he gave me a broken one to take apart. The first time I looked inside and saw all the components, then sat down with a working system, I thought it was magic. Then I figured out how to make that magic work for me.”

He continued to stare out at the ocean. “I tried to tell my dad about it that night, but he didn’t want to listen. He drove a cement truck, worked hard all day and just wanted to come home and sit in front of the television. I never did figure out what my mother did with her life. She didn’t work, but she was always too busy for me. Eventually I gave up trying to get their attention. I buried myself in computers and never looked up until college.”

He’d told her this part. “When Robin was your lab partner.”

“Yeah. We were nerds together.”

It was funny, but over the past week or so, his talking about Robin had ceased to bother her. Erin wasn’t sure why. His voice changed when he mentioned his late wife. She knew he loved her and would always love her. But Robin was gone and she’d figured out that because Parker was faithful enough to continue to mourn her, he was the kind of person she wanted to know.

“I can’t picture you being a nerd,” she said. “You’re too good-looking.”

He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows. “You think I’m good-looking?”

She rolled her eyes, then realized that’s where Christie had picked up the habit. “Stop fishing for a compliment.” She leaned close to him and gently bumped him with her shoulder. “You’ve done great. If your parents don’t want to acknowledge that, it’s their loss.”

“I tell myself that. When we first hit it big, I sent them a check for fifty thousand dollars. I thought they could fix up the house, or sell it and move somewhere else. Maybe buy a car. I was willing to give them anything they wanted.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. They didn’t move, they didn’t even get new carpeting. My mother barely mentioned receiving the check. I know they got it because it cleared the bank, but the last time I visited them, everything was the same, right down to the peeling linoleum in the kitchen.”

“How sad for them and you,” she murmured.

He placed his hand on the back of her head and drew her close to him. She rested her forehead against his chest. The contact wasn’t sexual. She sensed he wanted comfort and connection. She was pleased to offer both.

“Some people are afraid of living,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do about that.”

His words echoed in her brain. Some people are afraid of living. You’re going to die before you get your turn. Different voices, different sentences, same sentiment. Parker’s parents hid from life. Is that what she was doing? Was she like them, living an empty existence, so mired in unhappiness that the thought of moving on was more than she could imagine?

She didn’t want to believe that. She wasn’t unhappy. She had her job. It wasn’t her dream or even close to perfect, but it wasn’t horrible. Then there was Christie. The little girl was the most precious gift she’d ever received. Christie was alive. But was she the only one?

“What are you thinking?” Parker asked. He placed his finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Did I say something to upset you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You’ve gone all stiff.”

She sighed. “I was just thinking about what you said and wondering if I’m like your parents.”

He smiled. “Trust me, you’re nothing like them.”

“Don’t be so quick to say that.” She placed her hands on his waist. His presence warmed and comforted her. “Do you remember when we went down to the beach a couple of weeks ago? It was right after the storm.”

“Yes.”

“I brought my camera and told you about my dream of being a professional photographer. You asked me why I wasn’t doing what I wanted to do.”

“You told me it was because you didn’t get to study in graduate school.”

She nodded. “And you pointed out that I didn’t need a degree to take pictures.”

“I had no right to say that.”

“Didn’t you? I’m not so sure. You made an excellent point. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Why do I need a degree to take pictures? I own a camera. I can afford film.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll take pictures when you’re ready.”

“When I quit being afraid, you mean. I know that’s what this is about.”

She started to turn away, but he held her in place. “Erin, you’re the bravest person I know. You’ve raised Christie on your own and you’ve done a damn fine job.”

“Thanks. But that wasn’t about being brave.”

“Weren’t you scared doing it on your own?”

“Sure. I was terrified. But I didn’t have a choice.”

“You could have given her up for adoption.”

“No. Never. I loved her from the moment I knew she was alive.”

“So you were scared, but you did it anyway. That’s what being brave means.”

“It makes sense when you say it,” she mumbled, turning away in embarrassment. This time he let her go. She walked to the small table and pulled out one of the chairs. Parker followed her and took the one opposite. They sat in the darkness and gazed up at the stars.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she said. “And warm. That’s a nice change.” She rubbed her bare arms. Like Parker, she was wearing a shirt and shorts.

“Do you ever think about Stacey?” he asked.

She glanced at him. He was still looking at the sky. “Yes.”

“Often?”

“I think of her more now than I used to. Probably because I’m here with you. At first I missed her terribly. We’d been attending separate colleges, but I still felt connected to her. I suppose it’s a twin thing. I just knew she was there and that I could count on her. Then when she was gone, it was as if someone had ripped out a piece of heart.” She paused. “That sounds so melodramatic.”

“It sounds honest,” he said. He placed his hands flat on the table between them. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Erin, and about what you had to go through. I know it doesn’t change the past, but I want you to know that I take full responsibility for what happened that summer. I accept the blame for Stacey’s death.”

She stared at him. What was he talking about? “You had nothing to do with it.”

“You weren’t here that morning, Erin. You don’t know what I said to her.”

“Words don’t kill someone.”

“They can take away a reason for living.”

He was telling the truth as he saw it, she realized, stunned that he blamed himself for Stacey’s death. Why? “Even if you had destroyed her emotionally, it’s not as if she left here and drove her car off a cliff. She lived for several more months.”

“Nine,” he said grimly. “Nine months carrying a child she knew I wouldn’t want. Nine months of keeping secrets from the one person she loved in the world. You.”

His pain swept over and around her. She ached for him, and for Stacey.

He drew in a deep breath. “I was drunk the night she came to me. Several students had taken a break and headed into town, but Stacey stayed here.”

Erin realized he was going to tell her what had happened that night. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the details, but she couldn’t think of a way to stop him from talking.

“I knew she had a crush on me, but I couldn’t get past the grief enough to figure out what to do. I should have sent her away. Or turned her down.” He leaned forward. “I swear, Erin, I didn’t plan to be with her that night. Then she was here offering herself, and I figured I could use her to forget the pain.” He laughed harshly and without humor.

Erin moved her hands to her lap so he couldn’t see she was shaking. Emotion built up inside her. Concern for Parker, regret and empathy for Stacey, confusion for herself. His story made her ache for what had happened. It also made her think about loving Parker and the forbidden fantasy was powerful in its intensity.

“I used her,” he said. “But it didn’t help. The next morning I knew I’d betrayed Robin’s memory and that some connection between us had been severed. I was enraged, both at myself for my weakness and at Stacey for daring to be alive.”

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “She tried to hold me and tell me she loved me. I told her she was a child. She didn’t know what real love was. While she lay there, naked in my bed, I stripped her soul bare and ridiculed her. I told her about how Robin and I had met and what we’d meant to each other. I deliberately made Stacy feel foolish and used.”

He pushed the chair away abruptly and walked to the edge of the terrace. Erin watched him go. She thought about the letter of apology Stacey had written to Parker. She remembered the haunted sadness in her sister’s eyes when she’d come home at the end of that summer. Parker’s truth came from self-loathing. Stacey’s truth came from her infatuation. Erin suspected the real truth about what had really happened that morning lay somewhere in the middle.

She stood up and moved toward him. She could feel his tension. Cautiously she put her hand on his back. He stiffened but didn’t pull away.

“I’ve read my sister’s diary,” she said. “I know what you did was wrong, but she was wrong, too. From the moment she saw you, she was determined to see you the way she wanted to.”

“The dark prince,” he muttered. “Some prince.”

“She created a dream based on her past and what she’d always wanted. You had nothing to do with that. You have to see she manipulated the situation so she could get what she wanted. I’m not saying you weren’t at fault, too. She was young, you should have known better. But Stacey was just as wrong. She wasn’t willing to admit that you were still in love with your wife. She only cared about her dream. She hurt you, Parker, and she finally figured it out. Don’t you remember? That’s why she apologized in the letter.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Of course I do. Stacey was my sister. I knew her better than anyone.”

“I destroyed her.”

“What about what she did to you?” she asked.

He was silent for a long time. Erin kept her hand on his back hoping the physical connection would comfort him. She ached for both of them. For the young woman her sister had been, for the grief-stricken husband Parker had been. They’d both needed something. If the circumstances had been different, perhaps they could have found it together. Or maybe their odd relationship had been destined for tragedy from the beginning.

“You’re very generous,” he said. “What I did was wrong.”