“Are you going to open it?”

“I should have told her. She could have kept the secret.”

“You still can,” I suggest softly.

“It feels dirty lying to my sister at her wedding, but if I tell her now, I’m going to create drama where there should be none. I want her to focus on having the best weekend of her life, not on me and Rich.”

I understand her angst, but her sister is going to ask about the gift later, so I step forward and take the box. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out.” She sinks onto the bed then lies back, her hair splayed out all around her. She’s a beautiful sight, and it would be easy to stare at the way her body sinks into the fluffy duvet, but I don’t let myself.

I pull the lid off the box and drop it to the bed, pulling a lacy black fabric from inside. Grinning, I hold it up for her. There’s not a lot to it, and if Teagan put this on, I’d be able to see every curve, every private inch beneath the fine black threads. “I really like your sister.”

She grabs a pillow and hurls it at my chest. “Shut up!”

I sigh heavily. “You know you have to model it for me.”

She springs upright. “No, I don’t!”

“What if she asks about it? I don’t want to mess this up.” I press a hand to my chest. “I take my job here very seriously.”

“You’re a pig,” she mutters, but her lips curl into a smile and some of her tension falls away.

I take her hand and pull her up to stand in front of me. “Relax, Teagan. I’ll sleep on the couch. This is not a crisis.”

“I’m not a good liar.”

And yet you’ve spent years in Jackson Harbor without telling any of us what you’re so afraid of at home. In all that time, you didn’t breathe a word to me about losing the man you planned to marry or hiding from another guy who terrifies you.

I’m not supposed to ask about Rich, but maybe there’s a way around that. “You know what we didn’t cover last night?”

“What?”

“Our romantic histories—you know, serious relationships. I know you don’t want me to ask about Rich, but what should I know that you feel okay talking about? And what about other guys?”

She nods slowly. “Rich was high school—my sophomore to senior year, his senior year, and then his first two years of college.”

I know the shock is clear on my face. “That’s a long time, considering how young you were.”

She toys with a loose lock of hair at the base of her neck and twirls it around her fingers. “I guess so, but I didn’t think of it that way at the time.”

“What happened between you? To end it, I mean.”

“I got a track scholarship to go to school in Georgia, and he gave me an ultimatum. If I wanted him, I had to stay.”