“It wasn’t about you. It had nothing to do with you.”
“But he said something.”
“We had a disagreement. My feelings were hurt, but I’ll recover, okay? Things like this just happen sometimes.”
“So you won’t be seeing him anymore?” Brad asked hopefully.
“I’m still working for him on the Garrett house renovation. But our relationship is strictly professional from now on.”
“Why don’t you just tell him to stuff his renovation job?”
“Because I have a business to run. And a professional reputation to uphold. I can’t just walk away from a business commitment in a huff because the client hurt my feelings.”
“I told you about that guy. I told you he wasn’t as cool as you and everyone else thought he was.”
Funny that her first instinct was still to defend Mac. He and his mother had suffered a great deal bec
ause of his father’s callous abandonment. His mother certainly wasn’t blameless in the affair, but Mac had admittedly adored her. He had owed her everything. It was only natural that he would want to defend her. And if he’d also lost a child not long after his mother passed away, then it made sense, knowing him, that he would turn that grief to anger.
She couldn’t blame him for wanting to lash out at his absentee father. But she wouldn’t excuse him for being willing to hurt so many other people in the process. She hadn’t deserved to be one of his casualties.
“There are some things about Mac you don’t understand,” she told her brother quietly. “He isn’t as bad as you think.”
Brad snorted in disgust. “You’ve still got a thing for him, don’t you? Even after he made you cry.”
Wearily, she rubbed her aching temples. “Brad, please. I don’t want to talk about this tonight. You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“I was thirsty.”
It was a late-night foray for water that had caused Sharon such pain in the first place, she couldn’t help remembering. “Get a drink and then go back to bed. We’ll talk again tomorrow,” she said.
“But—”
“Brad. Please.”
He grumbled, but poured himself a glass of water. Downing it quickly, he set the glass aside, then paused by her chair to awkwardly pat her shoulder. “The guy ain’t worth crying over, sis. He’ll get his, don’t you worry.”
“Just stay away from him, Brad. Please. For my sake.”
He muttered something she didn’t quite catch and moved on toward the doorway.
Sharon watched him leave with a worried frown. She really hadn’t handled that well, she thought. He had caught her off guard, at a time when she wasn’t thinking clearly enough to deal with him. She had messed everything up today, she thought with a dispirited sigh.
She didn’t know what it was going to take to get her life back on the comfortable track she had established before Mac Cordero came to town.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THERE WAS ALWAYS a lot of time to think during a stakeout. Mac had gotten some of his best ideas while sitting in a car or at a window, waiting for something that might or might not happen.
On this particular Friday night, he was sitting in a deeply shadowed hollow beneath a huge oak tree on the outskirts of the property surrounding the Garrett house. It was almost midnight and he’d been sitting there an hour, so he’d had plenty of time to think. Not that he hadn’t already done far too much thinking in the six days that had passed since Sharon stormed out of his kitchen.
It was a clear, fragrant evening, the light breeze just slightly cool against his face. Only a slice of moon floated in the inky sky, so the shadows were deep, hiding their secrets in darkness. Mac knew he was just as well concealed in his black shirt and jeans. A part of the summer night, with secrets of his own to hide. Somewhere above him, an owl hooted, sounding as if it was mocking him as the fool he knew himself to be.
He hadn’t seen Sharon since she’d walked out of his apartment. He knew she’d been avoiding him—and, to be honest, he’d been doing the same. He still couldn’t remember the hurt in her eyes without flinching. He hadn’t been able to tell her that he hadn’t used her—because, truth was, he had. And, worse, he had done it intentionally.
He hadn’t meant to fall in love with her in the process.
She’d wanted him to put a name to what he felt for her, to convince her that it was more than sex, more than convenience. He hadn’t spoken because he hadn’t known what to say. His track record with commitment was lousy. He’d already hurt her once, he didn’t want to risk doing so again. Her brother hated him, and so would her friends if they found out why he was here. It was a hopeless relationship—and Sharon deserved better.