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And the fact it hurt made her even more angry.

But once the anger left, she had to face facts.

She’d been walking a very fine line, and she’d convinced herself she was safe doing it. And while it was true that this was her life and her business, she was the one who brought Tate into this without warning. He deserved to be angry, and there was no law that said he had to forgive her or even get over it.

She’d convinced herself that she didn’t owe Tate an all-access pass into her personal life, but she also had to admit now that Tate didn’t owe her unconditional acceptance of her actions, either. It would be nice, though, if he did, especially since she missed him so much it hurt to breathe sometimes.

She’d fallen, and she’d fallen hard. And she’d screwed it up.

But she’d apologized, and there wasn’t much more that she
could
do to fix it. The ball was in Tate’s court, and he seemed content to just let it lie there.

And so she would run, and she would concentrate on the pain in her legs instead of the pain in her heart.

When her phone rang, it was a welcome intrusion, and seeing Adam’s name on the screen was enough to get her hopes up even before she answered. “Hey.”

“You sound out of breath. Am I interrupting something?”

“I’m running. I appreciate the interruption.” She bent from the waist, panting for breath, and swiped an arm over her sweaty forehead.

“I have excellent news for you.”

She didn’t want to jump to happy conclusions, but that got her attention in a big way. “You do?”

“I finally heard back from my friend Amanda—she was out of town and just got back—and she wants you to call her tomorrow. I’ll text you the number.”

“She thinks she can help?”

“Her exact words once I explained the situation to her? ‘Fuck that noise.’”

Her heart was already racing, but she could swear it picked up more speed. “You’re kidding.”

“No offense, but you have the worst divorce attorney in all of North Alabama. Amanda says he shouldn’t be allowed to practice law at all. There’s no reason this should have dragged out so long. And I promise you, Amanda doesn’t play games. If she says she can make it happen, it will happen. You can trust her, too. She knows what she’s doing.”

She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “I don’t know how to thank you. You definitely get free coffee for life at Latte Dah.”

“I’ll buy my own coffee.” He cleared his throat. “I guess I need to warn you that Amanda’s good, but she’s not cheap. But,” he added before she could panic, “due to the circumstances and the fact you’re a personal friend, she’ll let you work out a payment plan with her office manager.”

“I don’t know what to say. You’re my hero.” Adam’s office was only a few blocks away. She wanted to run over there and hug him.

“Just get divorced, okay? Helena is worried and she complains to Ryan and that makes Ryan grumpy and he takes it out on me—like I could actually do something about it.”

“Well, you have done something about it. And I’m indescribably thankful.” Hope was a happy bubble in her chest. “Let me buy you a drink or something to celebrate.”

“It’s not going to happen immediately. Amanda’s not
that
good.” Adam laughed. “It’s still going to take some time.”

“But things are looking up. And that’s all that matters to me right now.”

“Well, have fun divorcing that son of a bitch. Keep me updated.”

She looked up at the clear blue sky and exhaled completely for the first time in years. “I will. I definitely will.”

•   •   •

Magnolia Beach didn’t go all out for the Fourth of July—mainly because two huge town-wide events a month apart would be more than anyone wanted to take
on—but it wouldn’t be the Fourth without a fireworks show. The tourists expected it, if nothing else.

And while Tate had come to watch fireworks at the Shore dozens of times, he couldn’t help but compare this evening to Memorial Day just a month ago. That timeline alone was enough to depress him. Everything was too messed up to have been only a month in the making.

He hadn’t wanted to come tonight, but not showing up wasn’t an option, either. It beat staying home and moping—but not by much—and putting on a good face around a bunch of people who knew too much was getting old fast.

Sam came up beside him and handed him a drink. “She’s not here,” she said.

“Who?”

If Sam rolled her eyes any harder, she was going to sprain something. “Molly, of course. She told me she was going over to Pascagoula today to see a friend from high school who’d moved down here a few weeks ago.”

What was he supposed to say? “Good for her. She needs more friends nearby.”

“I just didn’t want you to think she was off with Adam,” she said, way too casually.

“Why on earth would I think that?”

“Well, she and Adam have been spending a lot of time together recently.”

He didn’t need the devil to come whisper in his ear. He had Sam. “He’s helping her find a new attorney for her divorce.”

Undeterred, Sam just shrugged. “People talk, you know. You wouldn’t believe what I overhear at Latte Dah. I can’t help but wonder if they might be onto something.”

“That’s all Molly needs right now. More gossip.”

Sam looked at him over her beer. “She’s going
through an ugly divorce
and
a bad breakup at the same time. Rebounding would not be out of the question.”

“Would you hush?”

Surprisingly enough, she did. For all of about thirty seconds. “You do know that Adam asked her out after she first moved here, right?”

He hadn’t, but he wasn’t surprised. “I’m sure a lot of men did.”

“Well, now that the truth is out there, and people don’t seem to mind, maybe Molly’s ready to see what’s on offer.”

“Seriously, stop talking.” He knew Sam was just trying to make him jealous, and it was working on him, as embarrassing as that was to realize. He’d said some pretty awful things and then immediately thrown a young, good-looking, ready-to-play-the-hero lawyer right into her path . . .

Not my smartest move ever.

Oh yeah, he was jealous as hell. Not that he’d admit that to Sam, though.

Sighing, Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. “Look, if you ask me, you’re running a huge risk here.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

“Let me boil it down for you anyway. There are a lot of men in this town who are thrilled to discover exactly
why
Molly has turned them all down in the past. A not-quite-ex is much easier for them to get past than the thought that she just wasn’t attracted to them. They’re already circling like sharks at Latte Dah, looking for that moment when they can make
their
move.”

He had to bite his tongue to keep from asking exactly who.

“They don’t care that she’s still married or that she kept it a secret all this time,” Sam continued. “They know that Molly is amazing and beautiful, and they’d
be happy to take your place since you don’t seem to want her.”

This was all very unpleasant. “I didn’t say I didn’t want her.”

“Good. You should be flattered, you know. Molly’s been living single all this time, but you’re the one who finally broke through. You got to her and she wanted
you
bad enough to risk the exact shit-storm she ended up in. If you’re really hung up on the fact she’s technically still married, tell her that. Tell her you’ll wait until she’s legally single, and just cross your fingers she’s willing to wait for you. Otherwise . . . build a bridge and get over it. This is only major if you make it major.” She sighed. “I’ve stayed out of this the whole time. I don’t talk to Molly about you, and I haven’t said a word to you about Molly—”

“And I appreciate that. Keep up the good work.”

Undeterred, Sam ignored his interruption. “But this is insane and I can’t believe you’re acting like this. What is the deal? I mean,
really
? I want to trust that—”

“Then why don’t you?” he snapped.

“Why don’t I what?”

He sighed. He didn’t want to go there right now, but since his ego was already in tatters, he might as well let Sam shred it the rest of the way. “Trust me.”

“Because you’re being an idiot.” She started to roll her eyes again, but then paused and looked at him closely. “Wait. Is that a serious question?”

This wasn’t exactly the right time or place, but . . . “Yes.”

“Of course I trust you, Tate. More than I trust anyone in the world. What would make you think I don’t?”

“You don’t listen to me. You won’t let me help you—”

She waved his words away. “Those are totally different things that have nothing to do with trust.”

“How could they not?”

“Because none of that is about
you
.” He started to protest, but she stayed him with a hand. “There are things I have to do for myself. Things that I
want
to do for myself and by myself, and things that I need to prove to myself. Taking care of myself—
doing
things for myself—is about me, not you. The trust is knowing you’re there, and you’ve got my back if it all goes to hell. I’m sorry if I ever made you think otherwise, because there’s no way I’d have the guts to do any of it if I didn’t trust you to be there for me.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t always there for you.”

“You were. You always have been.” With a depth of understanding he wasn’t quite comfortable witnessing, Sam met his eyes and held his hands. “You think I’m holding some kind of grudge because you left? You going to school was my eventual ticket to freedom because I knew you’d come back and get me. That’s trust, big brother. The old man just died before you had to rescue me, which didn’t give you the triumphant moment you needed.” She rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best brother anyone could ask for, even when you’re a big doofus.”

It seemed too simple to be true, which meant he’d been beating himself up for no good reason. He certainly felt better. Even if he still wished she’d just let him help her, he no longer felt like it was a personal insult that she wouldn’t. He squeezed her until she yelped. “Can’t breathe.”

He let her go and she fixed him with a stare. “Delightful healing moment of sibling solidarity aside, we’re a long way off topic. What does any of that have to do with you and Molly?”

At that moment, the first firework streaked into the sky and exploded with a ground-shaking boom. It was fitting, really. “I’m not entirely sure,” he finally said. “But it’s something I need to think about.”

•   •   •

Rainy summer days made Molly feel bad for the tourists. They’d come for the sun, sand, and water, and while Magnolia Beach did try to offer some indoor activities as well, those weren’t what the people had planned for their vacation.

But rainy days were great for Latte Dah. She ran a ten-percent-off special and broke out the board games, setting up competitive Scrabble tournaments with prizes, kids’ games like Candy Land and Chinese checkers—which one of her staff would play with the children, giving the parents a welcome break—and even a two-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle set up on a table in the corner that everyone was welcome to work on. Sometimes, Mr. Yates would have one of his grandsons spring him from his assisted-living apartment and bring him into town, and the former chess grandmaster would take on all comers, regardless of age or skill. It made for a crazy, and often loud, day, but it beat sitting around in an empty shop because the tourists were hiding in their rooms, sulking over spoiled vacation plans.

And it kept her from sulking, too.

Staying busy was important, but wasn’t all that hard. Keeping a smile on her face was also important—and that was terribly hard. Brutal, in fact.

Anger and indignation had lost most of their buoyancy powers, and while she could still dredge them up, they weren’t keeping her from being plain old sad. She missed Tate, but she’d apologized and explained already, and if that wasn’t enough for him, she wasn’t going to compound the discomfort by doing it repeatedly. Then she’d get mad because he was being so obstinate about it.

At the same time, she wanted to be happy. However screwed up the situation was, and regardless of how it got that way, at least her divorce was moving along. For the first time in forever, she was feeling optimistic.

It was a very confusing vacillation of emotions, and since she couldn’t quite choose one to stick with, it all gave her a great big headache, too.

And since Sam and Helena were being overly circumspect—as surprising as that was—neither of them even mentioned Tate in her presence—which was completely ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she’d forgotten he existed. She was living in some kind of farce.

It was frustrating as all get-out.

She had to assume, though, that time would do its job, and all of this would settle into something reasonable and a new status quo would be established. Until then, all she could do was slap a smile across her face whether she felt like smiling or not and go on with her life. She’d have to see Tate eventually, and maybe when that did finally happen, she’d be over him.

She could hope.

If she could do it all over again, God knew she’d do it differently.

Or maybe she wouldn’t. And that just made it all even
more
confusing.

Right now, she had a shop full of customers, and if nothing else, people needed coffee. That was her purpose in life until she figured the rest of it out.

Helena arrived then, umbrella-less and looking a bit bedraggled, as well as red-faced and out of breath, as if she’d been running. Grabbing a towel, Molly ran to meet her at the door. “What on earth are you doing?”

“You said you had news. I came to hear it.” Helena took the towel and ran it over her face and hair, then shook like a wet dog.

She wasn’t soaked to the skin, so that was a plus. “I meant for you to call me, not come running over. And do you not own a raincoat?”

Helena shrugged. “I’m wet, big deal.”

“Well, come get something warm to drink and dry
off a little before you catch cold. Do you want a dry shirt?”