There it is, the truth, falling out of my mouth like a snake, twisting in the air between us. I don’t take my eyes from Nathan’s face because I want to memorize the way he’s been looking at me. He’s never going to look at me the same way again, not with this horrible thing I’ve just dropped in his lap. I brace myself for the horror that’ll no doubt take over his face as soon as my words sink in.
But it doesn’t come. Nathan just sighs. And then he says two words that leave me speechless.
“I know.”
30
“What?” I cry. “Wait. What??”
“Shh.” Nathan puts a finger to his lips, glancing at the door.
I struggle to lower my voice. “Sorry. But what the fuck, Nathan?”
He sighs. “I know. I figured it out.”
“When? Wha—how? What?”
“Meddy, you and your family have been acting shady as shit the whole day. And you guys were lugging around that ridiculous cooler everywhere—I didn’t know what to make of it. I thought maybe something had gone wrong with the wedding cake and you guys were trying to hide it or something? But then I went to the kitchen to check, and the wedding cake was fine, so then I thought maybe it was something else with the food. Then when the body appeared on the altar . . . it doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.”
I gape at him. My lips form words. Nothing comes out. My mouth just flaps idiotically, nonsensically. Still no words.
“Can you tell me why you did it, at least?”
Somehow, I manage to get my voice working again. “Um, it was in self-defense, and I didn’t mean to—it happened so fast.”
Anger ripples across his face. “Self-defense? Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head quickly. “He was about to, but I, uh. It’s a long story.”
Nathan releases his breath. “Well, I’m glad he didn’t hurt you.” He squeezes my hands. “It’s okay, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
“But—why?” I burst out. “Why wouldn’t you? You’ve been charged with murder. You should be telling everyone it wasn’t you, it was me.”
“I’d be surprised if the sheriff can make it stick. There’s no evidence that I had anything to do with the body.”
“You don’t know what he might do, how he’d paint it. He strikes me as the type of guy who colors outside the lines. I don’t know that he’d care if he got the wrong person, as long as he got someone.” Nathan winces, and I realize I’m gripping his hands so tight that my fingernails have dug little crescents into his palm. “I’m sorry.” I release his hands, but he catches them again and brings them to his lips.
“I’ve failed you once, Meddy,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “I didn’t fight for you, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I don’t want to lose you again.”
My cheeks flush. Hell, my entire body flushes. I lean forward and catch his mouth with mine, our lips molding to fit perfectly, two pieces of the same puzzle. Our breaths mingle, and I swear I can feel his heartbeat right next to mine. This is why I haven’t had a serious relationship since college. No one else can compare to this, no one can hold my heart in his hands the way Nathan does.
“I can’t let you go down for this,” I whisper. He runs a thumb across my lower lip, tracing a searing line to my chin, and a delicious shiver runs through me.
“I won’t. Really.”
Summoning the last of my strength, I pull away. “But—” My thoughts are a mess. My breath is coming out in shallow gasps. I struggle to think straight. “It’ll be such bad publicity. If there’s even a shred of suspicion on you, the resort—”
A shadow crosses his face, and I know, then, that I’ve hit the truth of the matter. Sheriff McConnell is likely not going to make the murder charge stick, not with so little evidence. But the accusation will be enough to scare the investors. And then what will happen? In my mind’s eye, I see a roomful of people in sharp suits sitting around a large conference table. Someone asks for a vote to remove Nathan Chan as the CEO of Ayana Lucia. And one by one, they all raise their hands. They can’t have someone so notorious be the face of their company. And that’ll be that. Nathan’s dreams would be over. This gorgeous resort he’s planned, designed, and built—he’ll lose it. They’ll probably give him a tidy severance package, but he’ll never again be able to find investors for another venture, not with this rumor hanging over his shoulder, casting its long shadow.