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.
chapter
twenty-six
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.