“But nothing serious, not since his divorce. I have been in love with him since high school, did you know that?”

Mel did know that. And so did Nate. “Rhonda, you’ve been married twice.”

Mention of high school tugged her mind back to Joanna again. It had been over a week since the story broke, Cliff Whitman’s death was still all over the news and Nate hadn’t mentioned it once. It was almost killing her not to raise it.

Rhonda sipped her coffee. “I should have married your brother. That’s where I went wrong.”

Did Rhonda see her wince? She hoped not.

“You don’t want to be married to my brother, Rhonda.” You don’t want me as a sister-in-law.

“No? Look at him.” Rhonda sat back in her chair and gazed toward Nate, who was now crouched down having a serious conversation with Jack Townsend’s four-year-old daughter. “He always has time for people. He’s the best listener, and that body of his—do you know that sometimes I just sit on my deck and watch him surf?”

No, she didn’t know that. She didn’t want to know that, but Rhonda had obviously decided that it was confession time. “Rhonda—”

“Those shoulders. The way his muscles—”

“Whoa.” Mel held up a hand. “Thanks, but I really don’t want to think about my brother in that way, if it’s okay with you. And thinking about you watching him? It’s bordering on creepy.”

“All I’m saying is that he’s about as close to perfect as a man can be.”

Mel let her hand drop. “Have you been drinking? He’s not perfect, Rhonda. Far from it.” In fact, she did think her brother was pretty close to perfect, annoyingly so, but to admit that would be to encourage Rhonda.

Rhonda took another sip of coffee. “So tell me one thing that’s wrong with him.”

One thing? She could have made a list. That was a sister’s job, wasn’t it? Top of that list would have been the fact that Nate was stubborn. Once he had an idea in his head, he wouldn’t shift no matter how much you pushed and argued the point. And he kept his thoughts to himself far too much for her liking. He worked things out on his own, whereas she liked to voice everything going on in her head. They were close, always had been, and most of the time she knew what he was thinking even when he didn’t tell her, but the fact that he didn’t tell her things exasperated her.