All of Me (22 page)

Jake grinned. “Naw. They’re doing some girly thing at Mia’s that night. I’ll call Cole, have him meet us here.”

Alec nodded and turned toward the stairs. He needed to get out of these damp clothes.

“Alec.”

He turned.

“About what you said at Mom and Dad’s . . .”

He gripped the railing until it hurt. “Yeah?”

Jake took a step closer. “I’ve been waiting almost ten years for you to say that, and I’m relieved you did. No, just hear me out,” he insisted when Alec opened his mouth. “None of what went down was on you. What you did in the aftermath, it was honorable. But you need to ask yourself where you’d be if she hadn’t wrecked that car.” He stared at his feet before glancing up again. “Would you still be together? Would you even still be living in New York?”

Alec ran a hand down his face. Shook his head.

Jake was right. So right. But the fact remained, she
did
crash the car, after storming out on one of their fights, and he didn’t stop her. In his head, he knew the blame wasn’t his. He got that now. Yet his heart wouldn’t read the memo. Laura couldn’t tell him what she wanted anymore.

Jake’s shoulders slumped. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You’re still going back.”

Alec swallowed past the rock in his throat. “Yeah. I’m still going back.”

Several minutes later, after Jake had walked away, Alec spotted Faith on the beach and did a double take. She was sitting just behind the surf with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms around her calves. She was still wearing the sundress from the barbeque, as if waiting for him to show up.

His heart beat hard against his ribs. She was just a wisp of a thing, but she had enough compassion and heart for ten people.

Years ago, he’d vowed to never hurt another like he’d hurt Laura. And damn it, nine years wasn’t a long enough stretch between heartbreaks.

*   *   *

Faith sensed Alec before she saw his form walking toward her in the dark. It took a lot of restraint not to launch into his arms. His long, easy gait belied the tension in his shoulders. His bare feet ate up the sand until he plopped down next to her, facing the ocean.

She’d baked, tried to read a book, and checked her phone half a trillion times since getting back, but she couldn’t get her mind off of him and what state he might be in. She was worried sick. From what she’d learned, for the past however many years since the accident, Alec seemed to be dealing with the tragedy by not dealing with it. He’d done everything from pay Laura’s bills to avoid his basic need of connection with others, but he hadn’t truly dealt with anything.

All that had changed today. He’d exploded. There was no other word for it. He’d hit his breaking point. Part of her wanted to go to him once she’d gotten home, but in the end, she hadn’t.

“I made you a pan of brownies.” She closed her eyes and mentally slapped herself. “That came out wrong. I meant to
say, I was worried about you and made brownies because I thought the comfort food would help when you returned. But you didn’t come and I was tempted to eat the whole batch. Then I thought, I’d just have to make more because what would make you feel better when you came if there were no brownies, so I didn’t eat them.” She paused. Her cheeks grew hot in embarrassment. “They have powdered sugar on them.”

Maybe God would have mercy and strike her now.

It wasn’t like her to be this rambling, chaotic mess. But darn it . . . she was terrified. She cared about him, too much, and it felt like not enough. She’d gone through her whole life feeling like she was never, or would never be, adequate. This time around, with him, the knowledge gutted her. Because sometime between the day she’d left home and this very minute, he’d become all that mattered.

Alec mimicked her pose and drew his legs up, resting his forearms over his knees. “I’m sorry.” Though he addressed her, he spoke toward the water, his voice hollow and raw. “I’m so sorry, Faith.”

Her chest deflated. Her pulse evened out for the first time in hours.

She took in his profile, his clenched jaw and furrowed brow, and chose her words carefully. His self-deprecating expression made her throat clog with tears. She didn’t want to lecture, but in her opinion, he had made a lot of headway by acknowledging he wasn’t solely to blame for what had happened to Laura. No doubt he was confused and torn up inside right now.

Releasing a slow breath, she faced the ocean. “I know you are.”

He dropped his head. Shook it. “I keep telling myself to keep my distance, to not read anything into the . . . joy you bring me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re inside me, though, in that place I thought dead. I can’t give you the same happiness, Faith.”

“You already have,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She
didn’t have to look at him to know what he was trying to say. Nothing had changed. She had hoped he’d want to stay after the conclusion he’d reached at his parents’ house, but his guilt and honor were too great. And she wasn’t exactly the kind of person who inspired unconditional love. “You already have.”

He reached out and pulled her into his lap. Wrapped his arms around her like that would be enough to bind them together. “I wasn’t expecting you.” He kissed the top of her head. “I just . . . I didn’t expect you.”

For once they were in complete sync, because she never expected anything. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and buried her face in his neck. “The best things are unexpected.”

He wove his fingers into her hair and urged her to look at him. Lowering his head, he brought his mouth to hers. His firm lips met her softer ones, the contrast a detonation. He explored tenderly, unhurried, without his usual walls in place. And she met him halfway, pouring what she felt but couldn’t say into the kiss.

Running her hands up his shoulders, she held his jaw and skimmed her fingers over the rough stubble. “Make love to me. Here, on the beach. Please.” It was dark and late. No one would see them and the dunes would provide cover.

His gaze searched hers. Their breath mingled.

Finally, he swallowed and nodded. Without taking his gaze from hers, he pulled out his wallet and set it next to them in the sand. His hands skimmed under her dress, to her panties and slid them down her legs. He unbuttoned his shorts and shoved them over his hips. Securing the condom, he lifted her so she could swing her leg around and straddle him.

To any passerby, they’d just look like a couple snuggling on the beach. Her heart flipped at his discretion, the care he took with her body and maintaining a semblance of modesty on her behalf.

With their gazes locked, she rose up and sank down over
him. He swallowed her gasp with a kiss, rocked into her, and held her tightly to him.

It felt like good-bye.

Afterward, he carried her inside and into the shower, where they washed the sand and the rest of the day’s hurt away. All she could think was how healing water could be. The ocean, their lovemaking under the spray—all of it filled the emptiness inside, soothed the endless ache she’d grown to accept as normal.

And when he tucked her into bed, cocooning her in the warmth of his arms, she fell completely in love with him. She’d been teetering on the brink since they met. Perhaps she’d fallen long before now. But acknowledging it to herself was freeing somehow.

He kissed her shoulder. “After I’m gone, promise me you’ll hold tight to Mia and Lacey, to the friendship you forged with them. You’re not alone anymore, Faith. If you need to tell Mia about my past, then do it. But don’t let them go.”

“I won’t let them go,” she promised. And she didn’t think she’d ever let him go, either. Not really. Alec would be it for her, always.

Alec and Cole dragged a very inebriated Jake up the stairs of his and Lacey’s house. Jake serenaded them the whole way, as he had in the limo coming home.

“Man,” Cole grunted. “You’re heavier than you look. At least you’re a happy drunk.”

“Word.” Alec kicked open the bedroom door. “In bed you go, lover boy.”

Jake flopped face-first onto the mattress. Halfway through his second rendition of “Free Bird,” he passed out cold.

Cole looked at Alec, breathing heavily and rubbing his thigh. “Lacey’s going to kill us.”

“Not if she’s just as drunk over at your house.”

They made their way downstairs to the kitchen. Cole dropped in a kitchen chair and grimaced.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah. The leg still throbs sometimes.” He accepted the beer Alec handed him. “I think we did this all wrong. Aren’t
we supposed to get plastered at a bachelor party? Why are we sober?”

Alec sat across from him. “I’m not much of a drinker. A beer now and then. There’s still time. Have at it.”

Cole laughed. “I don’t remember the last time I got drunk. Before Iraq, most definitely. Jake had fun. That’s what counts.”

Alec nodded and sipped his beer. They’d taken Jake to a few different men’s clubs, where he’d rejected every stripper and lap dance offered. Giving up, the three of them wound up on the pier with a bottle of Captain, swapping stories. It made Alec wish they’d been closer as kids. Cole was a good guy.

“What do you think about Lacey and Jake? They moved kind of fast.”

Cole tilted his head. “They did. Lacey loves him, that’s what’s important to me. Jake treats her well. He works hard and doesn’t want her for the money. I think he’s had his eye on her for a long time.” He shook his head. “Growing up the way we did, it was hard to know who to trust. Lacey especially had it hard after Dean died. She tried so damn hard to be perfect. Jake brought her out of her bubble. I trust him.”

“Remember when he used to put bullfrogs under her porch swing when we were kids?”

Cole laughed and leaned back, settling in. “Yeah. I remember her squealing most of all. Before they started dating, Jake was here this one day, cutting the grass. Lacey and Mia stared at him through the window for a solid hour, unable to believe he was the gardener’s son all grown up. I almost stomped outside to make him put a shirt on, until I realized the old Lacey wouldn’t have done that before. Stared at the help, I mean.”

Alec didn’t have any more reservations about his brother marrying Lacey. Covington or not, she and Cole were good people. “So, you and Mia? Never thought I’d see the day. You were hung up on each other as teenagers, if memory serves.”

Cole’s gaze wandered off. “I was all kinds of messed up before she came back. I don’t think I ever stopped thinking about her. Not for a day.” He shrugged. “Just meant to be.”

Meant to be
. Alec rolled the phrase around in his head, dissecting the meaning. If he followed that thought train, everything from Laura’s accident to meeting Faith would’ve been in fate’s hands, making them just putty with which to play.

He set his beer down. Picked at the label. “How did you know? With Mia, I mean.”

A ghost of a smile traced Cole’s lips. “I always knew. And the fact that you’re asking means you know, too. You could do worse than falling for Faith.”

Alec drew in a breath and shoved the bottle aside. “Seeing as you’re my agent now, there’s some things you ought to know.”

Being his agent was only part of the reason, but Alec told Cole everything. The miscarriage, the accident. Telling Cole didn’t rip his heart out like it had with Faith, no doubt because the more he talked about it, the easier it got. Plus, Faith had a personal, vested interest in his past, whereas Cole was a friend. Alec’s mistakes didn’t affect him the way they did Faith.

When Alec was through, Cole set his hands on the table between them and leaned on his forearms. “Christ. So she’s still in the care facility?”

He nodded.

“Are you her legal guardian?”

Alec took a healthy swig before answering. “No. That would be her parents. Back then we didn’t think about living wills.” He stared at the table. “She wouldn’t have wanted to live like that.”

“Have you tried contesting the guardianship?”

“Laura was an only child. She’s all they have left. I can’t take her from them a second time.”

Cole was silent for so long that Alec was forced to look up. What he found in Cole’s eyes was a near reflection of his own pain.

In a move that seemed involuntary, Cole rubbed his shoulder. “I created and toppled a series of dominoes that led to my brother’s car accident. Years later, in Iraq, I was the only survivor when my unit drove over an IED. I get the guilt, I do. But their deaths weren’t on my head any more than hers is on yours. It took Mia for me to see that.”

Alec nodded. “I know. Somewhere in the back of my head, I know that. But I couldn’t live with myself if I completely moved on.” Not that he was doing a bang-up job of living with himself currently. “What kind of a man would that make me?”

“It would make you human.”

Alec pressed his palms to his eyes, but the pounding in his head continued. The visions of Laura were still there. Laura, pale and shaking after the miscarriage. Laura, flailing her arms and yelling as she stormed out the door. Laura, lying in a hospital bed looking like death . . .

His gut turned to ice.

“For the record, I don’t believe she’s living anymore, Alec. You wouldn’t be leaving her. You’d be letting her go.”

Cole’s argument had merit, as did Jake’s. It had for a long, long time. But they didn’t have to wake up every morning and look at Alec’s face in the mirror.

*   *   *

The wedding had gone off without a hitch, as Faith had expected. The groomsmen were handsome in their khaki pants and white button-down shirts. The bridesmaids carried white lilies and offered a splash of color in their dresses. Lacey shined in her simple, elegant gown. Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a second.

They’d taken pictures at sunset and cut the cake as the first stars twinkled overhead. To accommodate the fifty or
so guests, a tent was set up down the beach with ten round tables decorated with a floating candle and sea grass stems. Alec and Cole had given a perfect toast, and Mia helped Ginny say a few words, earning immense applause.

The heat of the day had cooled and a gentle breeze off the ocean brushed over Faith’s skin where she sat at one of the tables, watching the first dance. She smoothed the skirt of her mint-green dress, glad Mia had talked her into it. It was pretty flattering on her thin frame.

“Stupid hormones.” Mia fanned her face, but her eyes misted over anyway.

Faith’s cheeks actually ached from smiling so much, not that she planned on stopping. “It’s okay to cry at weddings. Everyone does. Besides, look at them.”

Jake and Lacey danced with their foreheads together, grinning like fools in love.

“I still think it’s the hormones. I hope the whole damn pregnancy isn’t like this.”

Cole laughed and draped his arm around her shoulders. “I love you. And I’ll buy stock in tissues.”

Faith sipped her champagne, throat tight with her own tears. She was so happy for her friends and so brokenhearted for herself. The onslaught of emotion was like a hurricane. Alec hadn’t actually said when he’d be leaving, but she knew it would be soon. He’d been pensive all week. Contemplative and quiet—not quite broody enough to distance himself, but the shift was obvious.

Their time was almost up.

The first dance ended and everyone cheered. The band started an upbeat song, a country tune she didn’t recognize, and it had Ginny bouncing on her toes.

“Can I dance now? Can I?”

Mia grinned. “You go ahead, pretty girl. We’ll be right there.”

“Faith, come on!”

Faith turned in her seat to look at Alec.

He nodded. A faint smile tilted his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Faith followed Ginny to the makeshift dance floor, set on the beach between the tent and the bar, and laughed when Lacey threw her hands in the air. The two of them, ridiculous and carefree, encouraged her to be the same. Why not? Fun was fun.

Faith raised her hands and bounced around, bobbing her head to mimic them. It was exhausting and liberating. She laughed so hard her stomach ached. They made it through three songs before the music changed and she needed a rest.

But when she went to head over to the table, Alec and Jake were seated side by side. Alec’s gaze was on the table and Jake’s brows were drawn together. Jake waved his hand and dropped it midsentence. Alec shook his head.

Faith took a step back and turned away to give them a moment. Alec’s father was right behind her.

“Would you care to dance?”

“Oh.” She reached for her pendant, but it wasn’t there. Instead was the pearl-drop necklace Lacey had given the bridesmaids. “Yes. Thank you.”

He took one of her hands loosely in his and circled her waist with the other. “Nice wedding.” He had a deep, rumbling voice like Alec’s, but humor in his eyes like Jake.

She didn’t know how to dance formally, so she followed his lead and prayed she didn’t cause damage. “Everything came out perfect.”

He nodded and stared over her shoulder. “I want to apologize for what happened at the house—”

“There’s no need. Sometimes things just need to get hashed out.”

He seemed to contemplate what she said before responding. “I’m a traditional man. I tried to raise my sons that way, too. I don’t always say the right thing. In fact, most times I don’t, but you didn’t need to be put in the middle.” They moved a few steps as he cleared his throat. “I was angry with
Alec’s choices, still am, but it’s his life and I love him. Sometimes, I just don’t know how to express that, and I say things that make it worse.”

It didn’t seem like an excuse, but more an explanation. His father was embarrassed, both for himself and his son.

“The thing with anger, I’ve learned, is it only hurts yourself. You raised two wonderful sons. Both strong in character and heart. Be a little proud of yourself.”

He misstepped and paused. But the song ended and another cued to start. He dropped his hands and nodded. “I wouldn’t be upset if we saw more of you, Miss Armstrong.”

“Call me Faith, and I’d like that.”

As he backed away, she let out a silent exhale and was about to check on Alec when Jake took her elbow.

“Dance with the happy groom?”

Why was she so popular tonight? Any other time she’d be glad to accommodate, but she just wanted to spend some time with the man she loved before he was gone. And something told her that would be sooner than expected. But manners were manners, and this was Jake’s night.

He set them in motion. “I can see why he likes you.”

She blinked up at him, her stomach doing a little flop. She knew Jake was talking about Alec, but couldn’t think of anything worth saying.

“You have this way of looking at people that makes them want to spill their secrets. What secrets did my dad tell? He doesn’t hold his tongue very well, but we love him.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again. “It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you.”

He laughed in way completely unlike Alec. Hearty, but just as addictive. “Touché. Dad’s a man of too many words, and Alec not enough. Well, except on paper, that is. You got Alec talking and my dad to shut up. I’ve been trying for years to accomplish what you did in a couple months.”

Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked rapidly and glanced away. Alec was standing by the bar with his father. His dad’s
arm was draped over Alec’s shoulder and they were both grinning, involved in some story with a cluster of Alec’s cousins. Her heart sighed.

“For what it’s worth, Faith, I’m sorry he’s going to hurt you. He doesn’t mean to do it, but he knows no other way.”

Darn it. More tears. Maybe Mia’s hormones were contagious. “Thank you.”

They finished out the song in silence, and she’d never been so grateful to be alone. Taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, she walked to the surf and downed it in two gulps. Her stomach heated but her nerves remained frayed. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the salty air and let the sound of the music and the waves calm her.

“I see my family has driven you to drink. In solitude, no less.”

Despite the tightness in her throat, she smiled. “You have a beautiful family.”

Alec studied her for a moment before glancing out to sea. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked on his heels.

“You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

He glanced down, nodding.

Though Faith had known it was coming, it did little to prepare her for the pain tearing through her chest. No other hurt could compare. “Then take me home. Please.”

He brooked no argument, just held out his hand for her to take.

The house was quiet and dark, like her mood, so she didn’t bother to turn on any lights as they made their way to her bedroom. The moon illuminated a portion of the bed and floor, creating slats of light. Not knowing what else to do, she sat on the edge of the mattress and stared at her hands.

He walked over and stood in front of her, hands in his pockets as if afraid to touch. “Would it be easier on you if I left and went back to the guesthouse?”

She shook her head. Nothing would make this easier. She
fortified what little courage she had left. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

He looked down at her expectantly.

It took everything she had in her to meet his gaze. “I love you.”

Though he hadn’t been moving, he froze. Seconds ticked by. And then his hands were out of his pockets and scrubbing his face. “Faith.” He shook his head and paced away. Came back. “No, Faith.”

She rose and held her ground. “I love you.”

His gaze flew to the ceiling and back to her, pleading. “Christ. Don’t do this. What am I supposed to do here? To say?”

Taking a steadying breath, she grabbed his hands. “There is nothing you need to do or say. Love is a gift, one I knew little about before you, and like any other gift, all you have to do is accept it. It doesn’t need to be returned.”