The Firefly Cafe (Billionaire Brothers, #1)(23)

Undeniably, the first emotion that rushed through her was a terrifying thrill of joy—but it was followed closely by a comforting rush of rage. Tamping down the part of herself that wanted to drink in the sight of him in his hip-hugging jeans and battered black motorcycle jacket, Penny set her jaw. “So much for doing whatever I want. But then, you’ve never been very interested in what would make me happy, have you?”

A muscle ticked in his temple, his eyes going dark, but he nodded. “I deserved that. And if you still want me to go after I’ve explained, I will. But please let me at least try to make you understand why I lied to you.”

Penny hesitated, heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings. No second chances, she reminded herself. “It won’t make any difference, but if it’ll get you out of here without a scene, go ahead.”

Brows lifting, Dylan tucked his hands in his back pockets as he glanced around the nearly full diner. Most of the patrons were staring back at him, with varying levels of avid curiosity. This was basically the most interesting thing ever to happen during the lunch rush.

“Oh.” Dylan cleared his throat. “Do you have a break coming up? We could go out to the deck.”

The deck, where he’d proven how well he understood her son, and offered to help him. But that memory threatened the foundations of the anger that was keeping her going, so she shook it off.

Propping her tray on her hip, Penny stood her ground. “Nope. We’re doing this right here. These people are my friends, my family. Anything you have to say, you can say to me in front of them.”

Deep inside, a sad voice whispered, There. Now you’ve done it, you’ve pushed him far enough. He’ll leave and you’ll be safe again.

But Dylan didn’t leave. Instead, he planted his feet and tilted his chin down decisively, hardening his jaw until he looked like a stone monument to courage. All conversation in the diner had ceased by that point, every eye in the place trained on the confrontation between the stranger they’d befriended and their favorite waitress.


Penny waited, her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat.

“I lied to you,” Dylan said again, not shying away from the reality of what he’d done. “But I never meant to hurt you. Which I know isn’t the same thing as having your best interests at heart—as you pointed out, from the beginning, I’ve been more concerned with what was best for me. What I wanted. And what I wanted, more than anything, was to see where things went between us, if you had no idea that I’ve got money.”

Sucking in a breath, Penny felt her cheeks go hot. “Look, just because I work two jobs and have to scrimp to keep my kid’s college fund going—that doesn’t automatically make me a gold digger!”

Eyes widening, Dylan lifted a hand. “No, that’s not what I meant. When I first met you, I didn’t know anything about you other than how gorgeous you are, and how hot and fun the sparks between us were.”

Great, now Penny’s blush was never going to fade away. She was permanently pink in the face.

“What I didn’t understand,” Dylan continued doggedly, “is that Sanctuary Island is nothing like the rest of the world. Where I come from, anyone who hears my name immediately looks at me differently. They care more about my bank account, my pointless tabloid fame, my connections—than they do about me. But I should have known that Sanctuary Island isn’t like that. Whatever magic you people have here, it makes everyone more real, more open. I should have trusted that. But I couldn’t, at first.”

Penny didn’t want to be moved, but she was. Maybe Dylan’s name wasn’t what she’d thought, but he still looked and talked like the man she’d fallen for. It was more than a little confusing.

Taking a deep, visible breath, Dylan laid it all out. “I couldn’t trust that I would be enough, just me, without the money, because three years ago, I found out that the woman I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with—all she wanted was a rich husband. You know I have a … difficult relationship with my oldest brother. Part of it, I already told you about, but the rest…”

He paused, visibly steeling himself. “He got me to listen in on a phone call with Monique, to discuss the pre-nup I’d argued she didn’t need to sign. When he pressured her, she immediately asked how much he’d be willing to pay to make her go away. She never really wanted to marry me at all, you see. All she wanted was cash.”

Penny swallowed. The lines on his face, the rigid way he held himself—she could see how much it cost him to share this awful piece of his past. And it explained so much about him. She could feel herself weakening, the walls she’d built crumbling like sand, and it scared her.

“I don’t care how much money you have,” she said, frantically shoring up her defenses against the vulnerability in Dylan’s strong face. She lifted her chin. “There’s a name for people who lie down for money and nothing else, and it’s not gold digger. But I’m not sure I can forgive you for not seeing that I would never be that person. Not at first, maybe, but after everything we shared…” Her throat closed, and she stopped talking.

He flinched a little, and she tightened her fingers around the tray until the plastic edge cut into her palm.

“I get that,” Dylan said, straightening his shoulders. “And I understand your stance on second chances, but that’s exactly what I’m asking for. A chance to spend time with you, with no lies between us, no secrets.”