“Forget it, Del. Absolved. I don’t want to talk about Linda.”

“We’re not. We’re talking you and me. Damn it, Laurel, can’t you be straight with me? Can’t we be straight with each other?”

“I am. I said it’s nothing.”

“It’s not. It’s damn well not when you get so twisted up when I offer to pay for some damn groceries. Or a cake I’ve asked you to bake. It’s not about that either, but what’s under it.”

“And I said, clearly, you don’t need to pull out your wallet. I won’t have you hiring me—”

“Laurel.” His tone, utterly reasonable, stopped her. “I never intended that. Never. And you should know. You’ve said this has to be equal ground, but it can’t be if you don’t tell me what you want, what you need, what you’re feeling.”

“How can you not know?” she demanded.

“Because you don’t tell me.”

“Tell you? All this time.You can look at me, touch me, be with me, and not know?”

She whirled away, spun back. “All right, all right. I’m responsible for my own feelings, and clearly it’s stupid for me to wait and wait and hope you might

see. You need me to tell you, I’ll tell you. Equal ground? It’s never going to be equal ground when you care about me and I’m so hopelessly in love with you. I’ve always been hopelessly in love with you, and you’ve never seen it.”

“Wait—”

“No, you want it straight?You’ll get it straight. You’re the one. You’ve always been the one. Nothing,

nothing I’ve ever done changed it. Moving to New York, working to find my way, making myself into

something I could be proud of. But it was still there. Del’s the one, and whatever I do, whatever I accomplish, I’m still missing that. Trying to feel something real and important for other men? Temporary stopgaps, or failures. Because none of them were you.”

She yanked the hair out of her face as the wind blew it into her eyes. “I couldn’t harden it out or reason it out of me, no matter how hurtful or humiliating or just plain infuriating. I dealt with it, then I changed it. I changed it, Del.”

“You’re right.” He reached out to brush the tears she rarely shed from her cheeks. “Listen—”

“I’m

not finished. I changed things, but you’re still trying, you always will try, to take

care of things. Of me. I don’t want to be your responsibility. Your obligation. Your pet. I won’t have it.”

“For God’s sake, I don’t think of you that way. I don’t feel that way. I love you.”

“Yes, you love me.You love all of us, and you had to step to the front of the line when your parents died. I know that, Del, I understand, and I

feel for you and what you had to take on. Being with you, I understand more, and I feel more.”

“It’s not about that.”

“In some ways, it’s always about that. But it’s different now, with us. Or it should be. I’m okay with the way things are—or I was. Didn’t I just tell you I was happy? What I need and want? If I have to tell you, give you a damn list, then it’s

not what I need and want. I’m not asking you for declarations. I’m not asking for promises. I can live in the moment, and be happy in the moment. I’m entitled to be hurt and upset when someone like Linda scrapes me raw. And I’m entitled to keep it to myself until I grow fresh skin. I don’t need you taking care of it. I don’t need or want you to make it all better. I don’t need you pushing at me about my feelings when I never push at you.”

“No,” he murmured, “you don’t. Why don’t you?”

“Maybe I don’t want to hear the answers. No, I don’t want to hear them,” she said before he could speak. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say when I’ve ripped myself open and I feel like a fool.You can’t expect me to. I need to walk this off. I need to pull myself together. You need to let me.You need to go away.”

He watched her run down the beach. He could go after her, he thought. He could catch her, and he could make her listen. And if he did, she wouldn’t hear him.

He let her go.

She needed more than words, he realized. And he wanted to give her more. She might have ripped herself open, he thought, but by doing so she’d shown him, very clearly, what was inside him.


SHE RAN IT OFF, WALKED IT OFF, SETTLED HERSELF. THE TRUTH WAS, she’d come to understand, that moment on the beach would have happened at some time, at some place. She couldn’t have coasted forever. Neither of them could or would. Better it happened sooner than later.

If it ended things with Del, she’d heal. She knew how to tend her own wounds, accept her own scars.

He’d be kind; she’d hate it. Then they’d move on. Somehow. She went up to her room by the outside stairs, hoping to avoid everyone until morning.

But her three friends waited for her.

Emma rose. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I said anything to him about Linda.”

“It’s not your fault, and it doesn’t matter.”

“It is, and it does. I’m sorry.”

“It’s my mother who set off the bomb,” Mac said. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s my brother.” Parker held out a hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, we’re a really sorry group.” Laurel sat on the bed. “Nobody’s to blame, really. It just is what it is. But I think I’ll skip the fun and games tonight. You can make an excuse, right? Headache, shopping fatigue, one too many margaritas.”

“Sure, but . . .” Mac trailed off, looked at Parker and Emma.

“What? What now?”

“Del’s gone.” Parker sat beside her.

“Gone? What do you mean

gone?”

“He said he’d be back in the morning. That he had to go take care of something. He made it sound like work, but . . .”

“Nobody bought that.” Laurel put her head in her hands.

“Great. Just great. I told him to go away. Since when does he listen? Now everything’s screwed up. I should’ve gone away. For God’s sake, it’s his house.”

“He’ll be back.” Emma stepped over to rub Laurel’s back. “He probably just wanted to give you a little space. You’ll make up, honey.”

“It’s not about making up. The things I said . . . ”

“Everybody says rotten things when they’re mad or upset,” Mac told her.

“I told him I loved him, always had. That there’d never been anyone else. Basically, I ripped out my own heart and threw it at him.”

“What did he say?” Parker demanded.

“That’s about the time I told him I didn’t want to hear it, and to go away. And I stalked off. Okay, I ran off.”

“He didn’t come after you?” Emma huffed. “Idiot.”

“No, really. He knows enough to be sure I meant it. I didn’t expect him to actually leave. You can know someone all your life, and they can still surprise you. Let’s just try not to have this spoil everything. I think I’d be literally sick if it did. I just want to go to bed.”

“We’ll stay with you,” Emma murmured.

“No, really. I’m going to bed, and you can all do me a favor by going out there and fostering the pretense that everything’s fine. Situation normal. I’d really appreciate it.”

“Okay,” Parker said before Emma could protest. “If you need company or anything else, you just have to knock on my door.”

“I know. I’ll be all right, and I’ll be better in the morning.”

“If you’re not, and you want to go home, we’ll go.” Parker pulled her in for a hug.

“Or we’ll kick the men out and stay,” Mac told her.

“Best friends ever. I’ll be fine.”

She stayed where she was when they left her, but knowing one of them would come back to check on her in an hour, she made herself get up, get ready for bed.

She’d had her summer, she reminded herself. No one could ever take that away from her. She’d had the love of her life for a season. Not everyone could say the same.

She’d survive. And because, even if they couldn’t be lovers, they would always be family, she and Del would find a way to heal the rift.

She lay in the dark and ached. Ached and ached. And she tried to comfort herself that it would get better with time. Then she turned her face into the pillow and wept a little, because she didn’t believe it.

The sea breeze whispered over her cheek like a kiss. Sweet and soft. She sighed with it, wanting to cling to sleep, to cling to the numbness that came with it.

“You need to wake up.”

She opened her eyes and stared into Del’s. “What?”

“Wake up, get up. Come with me.”

“What?” She pushed at him, struggled to think. The light was the quiet dull silver of predawn. “What are you doing? Where did you go? What are you doing back?”

“Up.”

She tried to snag the sheet when he pulled it off, but missed. “You walked out on your friends.You left when—”

“Oh, just shut up. I listened to you, now you’ll listen to me. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Down to the beach to finish this.”

“I’m not going down to the beach with you.We had our scene, now it’s done.”

“You are a contrary woman, Laurel. You can walk or I can drag you, but we’re going to the damn beach. If you ask me why, I swear, the dragging begins.”

“I need to get dressed.”

He studied her tank and boxers. “You’re covered. Don’t test me, McBane. I haven’t had any sleep, and I’ve had a long drive. I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not in the mood. Isn’t that something?” She swung her legs off the bed, planted her feet on the floor. “All right, we’ll do this at the beach since that’s so important to you.”

She slapped his hand away when he reached for hers. “I didn’t have the best night either, and I haven’t had coffee. Don’t

you test

me.”

She stalked out onto the deck, down the stairs.

“You might as well settle down,” he advised. “There’s no point being pissed.”