She shrugged. There was no way to explain the real reason to them without betraying Alec’s trust. “Like I told Lacey, we were short term. He’s got reasons why he can’t commit, and I understand.”

“Can’t or won’t commit?” Mia huffed.

“Can’t,” Lacey answered and pinned Faith with an understanding look. Of course, Jake would’ve told Lacey the story, or parts of it. “Things can always change, though.”

Faith shook her head. Drawing in a deep breath, she glanced around. “Is that the magical dress? I think it’s perfect.”

“Me, too.” Lacey beamed. “I think Jake will love it.”

Mia smiled. “Jake loves the woman in it. The dress is just wrapping.”

Lacey glowed. “I should hang it back up, but I don’t want to. I want to wear it everywhere. It just needs an inch or two brought up from the hem, but otherwise it fits perfectly.”

Lacey followed the attendant to the changing rooms, leaving Mia and Faith to browse the racks. Lacey had decided to let them pick out their own dresses, her only requirements being that they were calf-length and pastel in color.

Mia held up a pink dress with capped sleeves. “Think it’s too pale for me?”

“No.” Mia’s tanned skin and midnight hair would look lovely in the shade. “It’s pretty. I like the cut.” Faith turned back to the rack. “I don’t even have an idea what to look for.”

“Something yellow, or maybe mint green. You’d look great in a strapless with your shoulders.” Mia fished around and pulled out a strapless satin dress with a tulle overlay in a pale sunflower color. A thin, corded ribbon that ran under the breasts tied off in the back.

“I like it.” She imagined herself wearing it on the beach, walking down the makeshift isle with Alec, as he was the one paired with her for the ceremony. Would Alec like it? She shook her head—she needed to stop thinking as if they were a couple. They weren’t and never would be. “Shouldn’t Ginny be here if we’re picking out dresses?”

Mia hummed. “Cole took her out to a movie. I wanted to get an idea for our dresses before bringing her along anyway.”

Cole embraced Ginny as if she was his own sister, his blood. He never grew annoyed by her inability to do things, nor did he seem irritated by having a third wheel. It made Faith’s heart happy. He was a good guy, and Mia would have a great life with him. Lacey and Jake would have a great life, too. They fit well together, genuinely cared about Ginny, and were already making her part of the family.

And then there was Faith. The special needs teacher on payroll who stayed in the guesthouse. When she had taught at St. Ambrose, no one, including the staff, had paid much attention to her presence. There, Faith had known her place, her duties. Here, everything was askew and disorienting.

“What’s really going on, Faith? You’re upset. I can tell. I wish you’d talk to me.”

Talk, like friends do. Maybe they just felt sorry for her. Perhaps that’s what all this was about, them including her out of pity. How would she even go about asking?

This thing with Alec was making her question everyone and their motives. Since landing on this strip of beach, nothing in her life had fallen into its normal pattern.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry to ruin the mood. I guess I’m just having a melancholy day.”

Mia opened her mouth, but Lacey was back from the dressing room. “They’ll have the dress finished by next week. Did you guys find anything?”

Mia held up both dresses.

“I love them. The yellow for Faith?”

Faith nodded. “Except yellow is Ginny’s favorite color. We should let her have that one, or at least first color choice.” She was family, Faith wasn’t. “I’ll find something else.”

Lacey fingered the material. “But this cut is perfect for your frame.”

Faith smiled as if her chest wasn’t hurting and perused the racks. She found a mint-green dress, as Mia had suggested, and held it up for inspection. A swath of satin crisscrossed over the bodice and flowed to a whisper below the knees. It reminded her of those old movies from the forties Hope liked to watch. Dreamy and timeless.

“Would you look at that? I love it. Is it your size?” Lacey leaned over and checked the tag.

“It’s a size too big, but maybe it can be altered.”

Faith glanced around for the attendant and asked, pleased when they said they could take in the dress so it would fit.

As they were checking out, Mia turned to them. “With regards to tomorrow, I’ve got the wine and beer, Lacey’s doing sandwiches and salad. Faith, would you mind bringing fruit and your amazing brownies?”

Faith had forgotten all about the Fourth of July bonfire. The Covingtons had invited a few people for a small get-together to watch the fireworks. “Sure. I can get Ginny to help me bake. She’d like that.”

“I’m nervous,” Lacey said. “Jake’s parents are coming.”

Mia frowned. “They love you. Why are you nervous?”

Lacey lifted her hand and dropped it. “I don’t know. I guess it’s the first time they’ll meet Dad. I’m hoping they’ll behave.”

Faith followed them out of the store and into the scorching heat, her own nerves going into overdrive. If the Winstons were coming, that meant she’d meet Alec’s parents. Faith didn’t know where she and Alec stood, though it seemed to her their summer romance was prematurely over. What would she say to them? Would they like her?

Sighing, she trailed Mia and Lacey to the car while they chattered about wedding cake. It didn’t matter what Alec’s parents thought. Alec didn’t want more between them, so she’d just fade into the background where she belonged.

*   *   *

“Why are you pouting?”

Alec looked away from the Fourth of July beach party to glare at Jake. “Men don’t pout.”

“Fine.” His brother took a long pull from his beer bottle. “Brood, then. Why are you brooding?”

“I’m not brooding.”

“You are.”

“Am not.” Alec grinned, partly because he couldn’t help it with the childish banter and partly because it would get Jake off his back.

Their family and friends were gathered around the bonfire, which was set past the dunes but clear of the water. To the left and halfway up the beach, Faith was standing with Ginny, rearranging the table of food for the fifth time.

Maybe he was brooding.

“You keep staring at her and people will notice.”

Alec rolled his head to stretch his neck. It did nothing for his tension. “Ask me if I care.”

“Don’t need to. I know you care.” When Alec said nothing, his brother plowed on. “You care about her, too. Why aren’t you over there with Faith instead of brooding?”

Alec had spent a week holed up in the guesthouse, doing zilch on the writing front, going crazy with thinking about nothing but Faith Armstrong. What would it hurt to talk to Jake? Besides pride. “We broke it off.”

Jake remained silent. A first.

“No witty comeback? I’m disappointed.”

“So am I.” Gone was the laid-back pose and affable grin. “I thought . . .” He shook his head. “I thought you were finally coming around. Letting go. What happened in New York?”

Alec was tempted to avoid the question, but hell. He was miserable and Jake was his lifeline most days. “I told her everything.”

Jake’s glance landed on Faith before returning to him. “And she freaked out? Left you?”

“Quite the opposite.” Alec rubbed his hand down his face, remembering the petallike softness of her skin, the humming in her throat when she came. “We made love, then I called it off.”

Sort of. That part wasn’t exactly clear. Faith had gone into his bedroom and slept for the remainder of the night, while he laid on the couch in his creepy living room, desperate to touch her again. And again. Neither had actually said the phrase It’s over.

“‘Made love,’” Jake repeated dully. “Interesting phrase from you.”