She tipped her head and gave me a dubious look. This was a side of Kate I hadn’t seen before. Just like the side that put her nephews in a headlock. How many other parts of her didn’t I know? How many times had she been hiding her real feelings around me?

I thought I’d been the only one to do that.

“I’ll work on it,” I said with more authority.

She squinted into the neighbor’s yard, where overgrown weeds encroached on an old warped metal swing set. She wouldn’t look at me. “For fifty million?”

“Kate, it’s not about the money.” I stepped closer to her. I wanted to cup her face, capture her plump lips, and kiss her until she melted under me. But I kept my hands at my sides. “Can I have a chance to prove it?”

“We’re going to keep circling back. Your job, the money. I…don’t trust you anymore. I don’t know if I ever should have.”

“What do you mean?”

She gave me another look that I’d never seen before. One filled with disappointment aimed at me—and staggering insecurity.

Why the insecurity? Dad’s hard words in my office trailed through my brain. The one time he’d gone full parent on me and he’d been right. If he hadn’t talked to me, would I even get what she was asking now?

My brows drew together. “Do you think I’ve been with someone else?”

Before Kate, my dating life had been dismal. I’d gotten hit on enough, and if I’d wanted to get laid, it hadn’t been hard. But by the time I was done with college, I’d gotten tired of the small talk. The shallow get-to-know-you phase that didn’t dive too deep because neither of us wanted to waste time on someone who would prove temporary. I had been old enough when Mama died to know what it’d been like between her and Dad. They’d been best friends and I’d wanted the same.

I thought that was what I’d had with Kate, but after today, I was coming to the awful realization that I didn’t know her very well. And it was my fault she didn’t know me.

“I don’t know what to think anymore.” Bare vulnerability shone in her eyes. “Short of lipstick on your collar, you displayed all the signs.”

My brain churned in confusion, but hadn’t Dad asked the same question? “There’s never been anyone else. Never.” I was faithful. I didn’t want anyone else. It shouldn’t need to be said.