Crouched next to her, Justice sat back on his heels. "The whole house is about the size of your garage."
"Size doesn't matter."
He snorted. "Depends on who you ask."
Catching on to his thoughts, she ducked her face. "You know what I mean."
"I do." He studied her. "The amazing part is that I think you really believe it."
"Of course I do." Carrying on a normal conversation wasn't easy. Today Justice wore athletic shorts and sneakers. When he'd picked her up, she'd admired his white T-shirt, but as soon as they reached his house he'd peeled it off and she admired his bare chest so much more.
The sight of him was enough to make her breathless. Add in the stirring aroma of his skin, amplified by the bright morning sunshine, and it was a wonder she could string together two words.
When she saw his mouth curl into a smile, she realized she'd been staring and quickly cleared her throat. "Besides, if you recall, that's my parents' house, not mine." She placed a cluster of daffodils into the prepared hole and gently pressed the rich soil around it.
Justice, too, got back to work and without looking at her, he said, "It's the type of house you're used to."
Is that what he thought? That she expected a mansion throughout her life? Softly, she shared a confession. "I've stayed there because it meant so much to Mom and Dad. But when I imagine moving out-and I will, eventually-it isn't into a mansion."
"What do you imagine?" he asked.
She glanced up at his home. She really did love it and the neighborhood seemed nice. The houses weren't too close together, but children would have friends to play with and that was a bonus.
But to be honest... "I've always thought about living someplace remote. Where I could step outside and there wouldn't be anyone around to see me. I could come and go without being...noticed."
He thought about that, nodded, and asked, "Why?"
With one plant done, she scooted down to work on another. The silence stretched out, but Justice didn't press her.
He'd always been patient. Too patient.
Fallon really wished he'd prod her. Now, in the light of day, she dreaded the talk and needed the encouragement.
"I'm just private." Liar. Being private was very different from hiding.
"Did your mom see your bruises?"
Glad for the temporary reprieve, Fallon shook her head. "She was asleep when I got home, and I was asleep when she left this morning. She peeked into my room long enough to tell me she wouldn't be home until supper. My father will be home by then, too." Using the back of her hand, she brushed perspiration from her brow. "Just as well that I tell them both together. They tend to flip out whenever I get injured."
"You've been injured before?"
A perfect opening, but her courage fled. Putting all her concentration on carefully removing another flower from a plastic pot without damaging the roots, she said, "If I skin my toe, they carry on."
He nodded. "Want me to stay with you when you explain?"
That was the nicest offer she'd ever gotten. Justice was her bodyguard, but he was also the most down-to-earth person she'd ever known. He'd kissed her. Repeatedly. And now he offered to face her disgruntled parents with her.
Her reticence melted away and she whispered, "Remember that talk I wanted to have?"
His head jerked up and he stared at her. "Yes."
She hadn't been prepared for that reaction. He'd seemed so relaxed about it, almost disinterested. But at the first mention he bit.
Because she couldn't maintain eye contact, Fallon went back to planting. It'd be easier if she wasn't looking at him when she bared her soul. "I had a sister who died in a fire."
Very gently, he said, "I knew that."
"You did?"
He nodded. "There weren't many details to be found. I'm guessing your folks kept as much of it out of the news as they could."
Fallon let a humorless laugh escape before she could stop it. Dig, she told herself. Plant. Focus on something other than his sympathy.
She moved on to a pansy. "It was five years ago. We were-"
"We?"
He'd jumped on that clarification pretty quickly. But then, she'd already noticed how he stayed so attuned to her.
A lump formed in her throat. "I was there." Because she concentrated so closely on the plant, she didn't realize Justice had stood and was now behind her, not until he caught her upper arms and pulled her to her feet.
He didn't force her to face him, but he did caress her, his big hands warm on her shoulders. "Go on."
Resisting the urge to lean back against him, she drew a breath and whispered her explanation. "It was five years ago. I was nineteen and Cindy was twenty-one. She was always a little...freer than me. Where I was shy, she was the life of the party."
"Were you close?"
"Very." Her smile hurt her heart and her voice cracked. "She wasn't only my older sister. She was also my best friend and my hero." It took several gulping breaths before she could admit the truth. "It's my fault she's dead."
Justice stilled, his hot hands firm on her shoulders, before pulling her closer. In a low, soothing voice, he asked, "Will you tell me what happened?"
Giving herself time to regain her control, Fallon nodded. It felt odd to stand out in the open, in Justice's small yard with other houses nearby and neighbors passing by, while talking about such a life-changing moment.
But she did it anyway-because he deserved to know.
"My parents had bought some new lakefront property. It came with a small fishing cabin. They planned to build a nice vacation home and figured the contractors could use the cabin until that was done, then they'd have it torn down. But since it was there, Cindy decided she and I should have a girls' weekend away."
"Just the two of you?"
"Yes." A bee buzzed near Fallon's face and she waved it away. The sun was so bright, almost blinding, giving her a good excuse to close her eyes. "We'd packed a bunch of junk food and our bathing suits and planned to just catch up. She'd been abroad and I'd missed her, so it sounded like a wonderful plan. Dad didn't like the idea much but we convinced him. And Mom always thought we were safe together."
Justice wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back to his chest, his chin on top of her head. "What happened?"
"Cindy brought a few joints and I was...shocked."
He hesitated. "It's not uncommon for someone her age-"
"I know. But Rebecca Rothschild Wade's daughters did not smoke pot." Another smile took Fallon by surprise. "That's what Mom said whenever we did something she disapproved of. I once got a D on a paper because I hadn't studied, and she gave me this look, then said, ‘The daughter of Rebecca Rothschild Wade always does her best-and, Fallon, this is not your best.'"
Justice nuzzled her temple. "I like your mom."
"Me, too."
"So you girls were cutting loose a little, having fun, and something went wrong?"
"I didn't cut loose," she protested, twisting to see him. "I've never in my life smoked pot."
He smoothed back her bangs. "Such a good girl."
"No," she whispered. "I wasn't." A deep breath helped her to continue. "Cindy was teasing me, trying to egg me into trying it, calling me chicken and Goody Two-shoes. I decided to get even, so I went to the front window and pretended our parents had showed up. I acted all panicked, like we were caught."
Justice kept her close. "But they weren't there?"
"No. We were still very much alone on a deserted country road in an isolated area on a lake."
Worry darkened his expression. "Shit."
"Yeah." An understatement. "Cindy panicked, which cracked me up because she was twenty-one and usually did whatever she wanted. But like me, she didn't want to upset Mom. So she tried to throw everything in the trash."
Justice guessed, "Only the ash was still hot and the trash caught on fire?"
"It spread so fast." Fallon hated to relive it all. She saw again the flames licking out from beneath the cabinet, the way Cindy tried to drag out the can but ended up tipping it over. "Everything was so old and brittle, it seemed one moment I was laughing at her, and then suddenly the fire went everywhere. To the cabinets and walls." Her throat closed up. "On Cindy."
Justice crushed her close. "God, babe, I'm so sorry."
She fisted her hands against him. "I tried to help her, but I couldn't get the flames out and then she wasn't moving. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe!"
Justice rocked her, his hold tight. "Shh. I'm so sorry. It's okay now."
"I got hurt. Cindy died and I got hurt."
He froze.
"I left her, Justice." Tears ran down her face and she choked with shame and remembered pain. "I left her."
"You escaped," he insisted.
If she'd kept her head, they both might have lived. But instead, she'd left her poor sister behind in a shack engulfed in flames.
Justice gave her a small shake. "You survived."
True, she had. And she didn't know if she could ever forgive herself. "I got as far as the porch before the overhang caved in on me." Memories flowed over her and she absently rubbed her shoulder. "I got pinned for a minute by burning wood."