Later he would listen to his head, he told himself. Later he would come up with plans that would help him recover from what had happened at the debate. Later he would tell Gracie to get lost and forget her. But not right now.

“I used to come here a lot when I was a kid,” Riley said. “As soon as I got my driver’s license, it became one of my favorite places. I would walk along the beach and try to make sense of my life.”

“I didn’t think that was possible for a teenager.”

He looked at her and smiled. “It’s not.”

“At least you made the effort. My way to try to make sense was to write really bad poetry. I mean seriously bad. Trees should come after me seeking revenge for their death so that I could have the paper to write my bad poetry.”

“Trees aren’t much into organizing.”

“Color me happy.”

She glanced at him as she spoke. A hint of a smile caused her blue eyes to crinkle at the corners. He nearly pulled her close and kissed her, but the smile faded and she sighed.

“How did he know?”

“The mayor?”

She nodded.

“He had us followed. Or maybe just me.”

“Is that what your detective told you?” she asked.

“He’s been on the job all of a day. I doubt he knows anything yet.”

“Oh. Good point.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “The guy the mayor or whoever hired did a much better job following us than we did following Zeke. Maybe we should have hired him.”

Despite everything, he chuckled. “I like your logic.”

“So the guy was just there to take pictures, but somehow he figures out what we’re up to and tells the mayor?”

“Or Yardley takes a wild stab in the dark and gets lucky.”

She squeezed his hand, then stepped in front of him.

“I didn’t do it, Riley. I swear.”

“Gracie, you don’t have to keep telling me that. I believe you.”

“I hope so. It’s just it looks so bad. I’m the only one who knows we made love and I’m the only one who knows that we didn’t use anything and that there’s a teeny, tiny chance I’m pregnant.”

“You’re not the only one,” he reminded her. “I know.”

“Oh, right. Because you’re the one telling the mayor.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “I mean it. I need you to believe me. It’s desperately important. I don’t lie. I can be a little anal about getting my cakes exactly right and I don’t have as much patience with my family as I probably should and I never get my checkbook to balance to the penny. I figure, hey if it’s within five dollars, fine. But I don’t lie and I would never set you up. I’m not afraid of the truth. Remember? I’m the girl who put a skunk in your car. I tend to do things out in the open so the world can see.”

The sun had slipped below the horizon. As the light faded, her skin took on a luminescence, as if she glowed from within. At that moment, staring into her beautiful face, he would have believed anything. Not so much because he wanted her-although he did-but because she was there.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, someone was there for him. Someone who was interested in him, his day, his opinions, his feelings. Guy friends were never that involved and he didn’t let women get close.

He believed Gracie because he didn’t have a choice.

He reached for her free hand and laced his fingers with hers, then he pulled her close, so they touched from shoulder to thigh.

“How did we get here?” he asked.

“The highway and then Beach Drive.”

He grinned, then he chuckled, then he started to laugh. She wiggled her shoulders.

“I’ve always had an excellent sense of humor,” she said.

“Yes, you do.”

He bent down and kissed her nose. Her mouth beckoned, but as much as he wanted to be in her bed, he wasn’t willing to give this up. Not yet.

He released her left hand and tugged her along so they were walking again.

“Any other directional questions I can answer?” she asked.

“Not right now.”

“You could get a GPS system.”

“Yes, I could.”

She drew in a deep breath. “I love the smell of the ocean. Where my aunt and uncle lived in Torrance, we were about five miles from the beach, so we could go there a lot. I’ve always lived close to the water. I’m not sure I could live anywhere else. How do people survive in the mountains or the desert?”

“It’s what they know. I didn’t see the ocean until we moved here when I was nearly sixteen.”

She glanced at him. “Where did you grow up?”

“Tempe, then finally here.” He remembered the trailer he and his mom had lived in. “I never asked her why we stayed so long after my dad left. Maybe she was waiting for him to come back.” His mother had always been a dreamer.

“Six years is a long time.”

“Too long. Then we moved here. She told me things would be better because her brother was here. Until then I hadn’t known I’d had an uncle.”

“What happened when you met him?” Gracie asked.

“I didn’t. She left me at the motel and went to see him herself. When she came back, I knew that she’d been crying, but she wouldn’t admit it. She wouldn’t say anything except she was going to find us a nice little house where we could be happy.”

He led Gracie toward a cluster of rocks and sat down next to them. She settled beside him. He reached for her hand again.

“I put the pieces together over time,” he said, not wanting to remember, but lost in the past all the same. “Her brother told her that she’d turned her back on the family when she’d run off to be with my father. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t exist. Neither did I.”

Gracie shifted closer so she could snuggle up against him. “I’m sorry your uncle was just a big old poop head.”

Despite the ghosts and the ache of the past, Riley smiled. “I’ve been calling him a heartless bastard all these years, but I kind of like poop head.”

“It’s true. How could he ignore his own family?”

Riley leaned back against the rocks and put his free arm around her. “Easily enough. I never did meet him. When I got in trouble around town, he’d send me a letter, reprimanding me for whatever I’d done.”

“You were never that bad.”

He glanced down at her. “I was wild.”

She smiled. “I know. It was one of your best qualities. Your bad-boy ways made my little teenage heart beat so fast. You were dangerous and sexy.” She gave him a teasing grin. “Did you know I had a crush on you?”

He chuckled. “Gee, really? You were so subtle about it.”

“I know.” She sighed. “That’s me. Subtle gal. Did he come to the wedding?”

“No. My mom probably sent him an invitation, but I didn’t care if he showed up or not. I’m sure Pam was hoping for a great gift, but he didn’t bother with that, either.”

“I know Pam’s being really nice and all,” Gracie said. “But it’s hard for me to feel sorry for her.”

“Me, either. I didn’t want to marry her. Did you know that?”

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “You’re kidding. I thought you were wildly in love with her.”

“Lust,” he said firmly. “There’s a huge difference. At eighteen, I liked having her as a steady girlfriend, because she put out. When she told me she was pregnant, I was furious. She’d sworn she was on the Pill and I believed her.”

Gracie shifted on the sand. “I never said I was.”

He brushed his mouth against her hair. “Not the same thing. I told you, I don’t blame you for that.”

“But I-”

He pulled his hand free and pressed it against her mouth. “No.”

“But-” He pressed a little harder. “What aren’t you getting?”

“Okay.”

He appreciated her worrying, but as far as he was concerned, the fault was his. He’d been the one so damned intent on having her, he’d forgotten to make sure they were both protected. He hadn’t gotten successful by being stupid.

“What were we talking about?” he asked.

“You not wanting to marry Pam because you were secretly in love with me.”

“Not exactly.”

“But close.”

“I didn’t want to marry Pam.”

“I’ll take that if it’s all I can get,” she said. “And remind you-again-that I warned you about her.”

“Yes, you did, but I didn’t listen. Not that it would have mattered. My mother insisted. She said I had a responsibility.” He grimaced as he remembered the fights he’d had with her. “She wanted me to be respectable and do the right thing.”

“You just wanted out.”

“Yeah. I’m not saying my mom was wrong. But at eighteen, I didn’t see it. I married Pam, stayed around long enough to find out she wasn’t pregnant, then took off. But first I told my mom she’d ruined my life and I would never forgive her.”

He stared out at the dark ocean. The moon hadn’t risen and he could barely see the white foam swirling along the beach.

“It was the last time we ever spoke,” he said slowly.

“What?” Gracie pushed away and stared at him. “You mean because you left?”

He nodded. “I was angry. I took off and headed north. Eventually I ended up on those oil rigs in the South China Sea. I grew up a little and got some perspective. So I sent her a letter and a check. She wrote me back, asked me to come see her sometime. I said I would. But I never made the time.”

He hadn’t thought it was important and he’d still been angry.

“Finally she wrote me and told me she was sick. Cancer. So I made arrangements to come back. But she didn’t say it was urgent and I didn’t drop everything. A week before I was supposed to leave, I got a call from a nurse in the county hospital telling me my mother had less than forty-eight hours to live. It took me fifty hours to get back. She was already dead.”

Gracie tightened her hold on him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s long over. Technically Yardley was right today. I never did come back to see my mother while she lay dying.”