Page 54 of Halstead House

“You could have taken a moment to let me catch my breath and then reassured everyone that things were fine to carry on.”

“You didn’t see yourself. You were whimpering and clinging to me with a surprisingly strong grip. You did not look fine to carry on.”

“I was not whimpering,” I grumbled out.

He pulled a face, letting me know that he strongly disagreed with my statement and was choosing not to press the point. “Not to mention that you had just lied to me. To my face. You looked at me and said you were having fun.”

“No. I smiled at you. I never said one word.”

“So silence was honesty?”

I pulled a face. He had a point. “I’ll admit that lying to you wasn’t a good idea.”

“It was a terrible one.”

“I only did it because it was what you wanted to hear.”

He stared at me like I’d sprouted another head. “I just told you that I’m tired of people telling me what I want to hear.”

“How was I supposed to know that about you? You don’t encourage much conversation, which only makes me feel like I should keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Your thoughts to yourself? Several times you’ve told me exactly what you thought. This time, you didn’t, and I was supposed to know that thisonetime was the lie?”

“I only tell you the truth when I’m mad at you,” I huffed.

He grinned at that. “You must be mad at me every time we see each other then.” I felt an answering grin but kept my lips shut. “So, let me get this straight. You only lie to me when I’m being nice?”

“It appears that way.”

“Why?”

“Because in my experience kindness isn’t all that kind. Ultimatums are often delivered with a sweet word, packaged as gifts.”

I turned back to face the open ocean, unable to meet his eyes after that confession. Admitting that to him had been too much, an accident that I couldn’t take back or bear to acknowledge. Why him? Why could I finally say what I felt to the one person I didn’t want to be having sharing time with?

“Grace,” he whispered, finally sitting on the sand next to me. His voice was low and filled with sympathy, and I suddenly remembered how rock solid he had felt when I’d been holding onto him on the boat.

My throat went dry with fear and something even scarier. Maybe I did want to have sharing time with him. Gulp. It was awful.

I held up a trembling hand as though trying to ward off any more words. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Another moment of silence descended, each of us lost in our own thoughts as we looked out into the dark gulf.

He was the one to finally speak again. “So, if I have this straight, I’m tired of people feeding me lines, and you’re tired of people telling you what to do and then punishing you if you don’t.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. I nodded. “I think we’re more alike than I realized.”

I looked back to him. “How do you figure?”

“We’re both being fed lines all the time, neither of us knowing who or what to trust. It sounds lonely when I say it out loud.”

“You can’t possibly be lonely,” I replied. “Everywhere you go people know you and chat you up.”

“I understand how my life looks from the outside. I also understand how lucky I am to have this life. I have all the comfort, stability, and money I could ever need.” He took a deep breath before pushing on. “Money doesn’t buy honesty, genuine friendship, or any of the things I really want in life. Yes, I know a lot of people, but it doesn’t always mean much.”

This had been an interestingly vulnerable conversation. I remembered Eliza saying the same thing to me. That people had been interested in the Halstead name, but not Eliza herself. It was startling, and perhaps a little humbling, to realize that Lucas felt the same way. The images I’d found online had been slices of a life I knew nothing about. The truth about Lucas Halstead was something very different. A strange warmth bloomed in the general vicinity of my heart.

“These weeks at Halstead House have been the first time in my life I’ve had actual friends,” I admitted haltingly.

“I haven’t been very welcoming to you.”

“I noticed.”

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