"Yeah, yeah, you just couldn't resist a potshot. Sure, kick a man when he's down," Nathan muttered.

He avoided Micah's gaze. There was no way in hell he was spilling the beans about what had gone on the night before. If it meant getting teased by the others because he couldn't pin the little witch down, then so be it. Better that than getting his balls handed to him if it got back to Julie what he'd done.

"Have you tried talking to her, son?" Pop asked Nathan in exasperation.

"Don't we have projects to discuss?" Nathan demanded. "I'm fairly certain my private life isn't one of them."

He was roundly ignored by the others.

"He can't get close enough to her to talk," Connor snickered.

"It seems to me that you have offended her female sensibilities by being a typical, thickheaded male," Pop said sagely.

"No kidding."

"So, go talk to her. Ask her out. Seems to me that's what you should have done months ago instead of going to her for massages. A man's got to speak up for what he wants, or risk losing it."

Everyone groaned. Pop was on a roll, and when he got on a roll, well, there was no shutting him up.

Gray sighed. "He's got a point. It's only when men try to do romantic bullshit that they get into trouble. I should have just taken Faith to buy the damn house and let her do all the decorating instead of busting my ass for the last several weeks to get it ready. Now I've got a woman who apparently thinks I don't want her."

"Well, you know where she is," Micah said with a grin. "I'm sure we can handle your projects for the day. I never do like to see an unhappy woman. I'd just as soon see Faith back to her old self by tomorrow."

Nathan felt yet another damn blush work its way up his cheeks when every single one of them turned and stared expectantly at him.

"What?"

"Seems to me you've got a woman who needs to hear precisely where she stands too," Pop said. "Go on. Take the day. Get out of my hair. But I'd prefer it if you boys got your heads on straight tomorrow so we can get some work done around here."

"I'm just glad I'm still single," Connor said. "Too much drama for my tastes."

"You'll get yours," Pop said as he dug around on Faith's desk for the paperwork she'd left. "The smug ones always fall that much harder."

“I’ve sorta called off my wedding."

"Say wha?" Julie sputtered, her hands stilling on Faith's back.

Of all the things she thought Faith might say, that wasn't one of them. Something was definitely up with her. When she'd called to schedule a massage at the last minute this morning, Julie had canceled two hair appointments and another massage, knowing the real reason Faith was coming in was to talk.

But canceling her wedding? The mind boggled.

Faith remained quiet for a long time, and then Julie realized she was crying. Oh hell.

"Don't cry, honey," Julie said as she handed her a tissue. "I hate it when someone cries. It's horribly catching, you know? I'll be blubbering like an idiot right along with you and I won't even know why."

Faith picked up her head and laughed softly but her face looked positively mournful.

"Want me to continue with the massage or do you just want a shoulder to cry on?"

Faith sat up and wrapped a robe around her. "I'm being an idiot. I know I am. I should be talking to him, but I'm just so afraid of what he might say."

Julie leaned against the opposite table and stared over at Faith, who looked for the world like she'd lost her best friend. Hell, maybe she had. "You've lost me here. First, why don't you tell me why you called off the wedding and then we can get to why you aren't talking to him."

Faith sniffed, a delicate, feminine sound that annoyed Julie. When Julie cried, she let out big honking noises that sounded like a sick goose. Faith got to be all pretty and dainty. But then Faith was miserable, and Julie had just had the best night of sex in her life, so she supposed looking dainty and feminine wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"I think he might be cheating, or that's what I'm afraid of." Her shoulders slumped and she looked like a deflated balloon. "That came out wrong. I don't think he's cheating, but I think he's no longer interested in me."

"Okay, but you said you think he might be cheating," Julie said gently.

"It's a fear, but honestly, I don't see him as the type. He's just too blunt. I don't think he'd stay with me if he was seeing another woman."

"But you think he'd stay if he wasn't interested in you?"

Faith flushed. "Yeah, it sounds pretty stupid, I know."

"Why on earth would you think any of it? Faith, have you ever seen the way he looks at you? I'm not defending him, okay? I just wonder why you've arrived at these conclusions. Is it your own insecurities, or has he given you a solid reason for believing them?"

"Why do you have to be so damn levelheaded?" Faith grumbled.

Julie reached out and impulsively hugged her. "I'm sorry. You're right, you know. My job is to say what a bastard he is and to offer you my unconditional support. We're supposed to go get loaded on ice cream followed by copious amounts of alcohol."

Faith offered a tremulous smile. "No, your job is to keep me real and make sure I don't screw up the best thing in my life with my ridiculous anxieties."

Julie squeezed her hand. "Now for the obnoxious questions. What makes you think he's lost interest in you, and why aren't you talking to him about this? How did he take you calling off the wedding?"

"I'm a total coward. I'm afraid I used up my allotment of courage when I decided to own my sexuality and go after what I wanted," she said with a sigh. "I didn't exactly tell him I was calling things off. He found out this morning and stomped into my office. In front of all the others."

Julie cringed in sympathy. "Ouch."

Faith's brow wrinkled in confusion. "He seemed so . . . hurt."

"Why don't you lie back down and let me give you your massage. You can tell me all about it and you'll feel the magic of my fingers."

She held up her hands and waggled her fingers enticingly. Faith looked down at the table.

"I'd rather not. My boobs aren't taking it well. Maybe I'm just PMSing or something."

Julie frowned. "What do you mean, are they sore or what?"

"I'm just off," Faith said tiredly. "I'm not myself, and I shouldn't be making major life decisions when I'm missing a few brain cells, you know?"

Julie slid onto the table beside Faith and let her legs dangle as she glanced sideways at her friend. She took Faith's hand in hers and squeezed. "This is more than getting your period, Faith. I've seen you PMSing, and please. It's like Miss Sunshine stubs a toe or something. You're disgustingly cheerful even then. So tell me what's going on."

"I'm just tired and yucky feeling. My boobs hurt, and I can't stand my office in the mornings. The smell of coffee makes me want to puke."

"Oh shit."

Faith turned sharply. "What?"

"Uhm, Faith, honey, you know I love you but even you can't be this dense."

"Stop insulting me and tell me what the hell you're talking about."

"When was your last period?"

Faith's brows scrunched up in concentration. "Well, crap, I don't know."