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“No, you don’t,” her brother said calmly. “But it’s not like to you to be rude to someone you haven’t seen in years. Especially not Ryan, who was your friend.”

“You guys were messing with him too. I wasn’t really rude, maybe just a bit stiff?” No one knew what had happened between them. They’d decided to keep it a secret, and she’d known why after he’d left town. He’d wanted to save face and not have her brother pummel him for leaving her brokenhearted.

“I know you, and that was cold.”

Guilt, thick and heavy, settled on her shoulders, so she did the only thing she could. Like Ryan, she left. “I need to go. I don’t have time for one of your lectures now, and there is nothing to discuss.”

“Well, that was a fizzer,” Buster muttered.

“You said it,” Jake agreed. “I was hoping for entertainment.”

“I don’t lecture,” Noah said.

“Of course you lecture,” Buster said. “You should have been a professor, you’re so good at it.”

She didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as the door shut behind her. Seconds later, she heard the thud of feet and Noah was at her side. “I don’t want to get into this again, Noah.”

“I don’t lecture,” he muttered. “And you’ve made your point to Ryan. Now play nice.”

“Whatever. I didn’t do anything; I was just myself.” This time it was Faith who muttered.

They headed back to The Howler.

“Oh, now would you look at that? So much hotness, and here’s me without my sunglasses.”

“Oh, hey, Mrs. C, and who are you calling hot when you’re wearing orange leggings and a cerise jogging shirt. That lime sweatband matches perfectly,” Noah lied.

“Hot is what you look, and we can never compete,” Faith added.

“Well now, all three of us know that for a lie, but I’ll take it. Now, I just wanted to discuss my entry for the talent show.”

“Shoot,” Noah said.

“There are no limits on how many may perform at one time, are there?”

“No limits,” Faith answered. “If they can fit on the stage we’ll have set up, they can perform.”

“You getting the band back together, Mrs. C?” Noah asked.

Her smile made the lines in her lips flatten, and she looked suddenly younger. “Well now, I’m not telling you that.” She tapped her nose. “Only that it’s likely I’ll win.”

“Never in doubt,” Noah said solemnly.

“He’s not competing, is he?” They turned as Mrs. C pointed over their shoulder.

Ryan was coming out of the pharmacy and heading their way.

“I don’t think he’s an amateur, and I’m sure that is in the rules,” Faith said.

He’d filled out since he’d left Lake Howling. Tall, he had the same loose-limbed walk Newman had. His jeans were worn through on one knee, and those wide shoulders were inside a navy jacket, and he wore tan leather boots. His deep brown hair was buzzed short but suited that arrogant jaw. He had stubble, and it only added to the look of sexy rock god.

“Hello, Ryan,” Mrs. C said.

Faith needed to get this under control, this little zing of excitement she felt at seeing him again. He was just another local returning for a visit. Nothing more, nothing less. He was plain, simple Ryan Lawrence. The man who had once been her friend, and yes, lover.

The filthy rich rock star who had women throwing themselves at him.

“You’ve changed. Grown up,” Mrs. C said, inspecting him thoroughly like she would a cake after decorating it with her flowers.

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