by Beth Andrews
“If that’s true,” Nick mused, scratching his stubble-covered cheek, “then I guess I can do this.”
In one swift move, Nick tossed his gun aside, feinted right, then caught a giggling Trevor as he darted in front of Faith. Nick lifted Trevor onto his shoulder so that the boy’s legs dangled across Nick’s back. Holding him with one arm, Nick tickled his ribs until he howled with laughter.
“Give?” Nick asked, patting Trevor’s back.
“Ne-never,” Trevor gasped, trying to lift his squirt gun.
Nick shook his head and tickled him again. “Boy, you are as stubborn as your mother. Maybe I should—”
A steady stream of water in his face cut him off. They all turned toward Austin, who held Nick’s abandoned gun. Pride surged through Faith. He’d come so far from the sullen kid he’d been less than a month ago.
Nick shook his head. “Two against one, huh?”
“Yeah, Austin!” Trevor cried. “Get him again!”
Except this time when Austin squeezed the trigger, Nick twisted so that Trevor took the brunt of it. Yelping as the water soaked his hair, he lifted his own gun and retaliated. Nick quickly set his nephew on his feet and jumped out of the line of fire, behind Faith.
“Why don’t you two plan a sneak attack on Uncle Steve?” he suggested over her shoulder.
Trevor’s face lit up. “Great idea. Come on, Austin, let’s reload.”
Whispering about offensive maneuvers, they ran off.
“I hadn’t thought you were the kind of guy to throw a family member to the wolves like that,” Faith said.
“It’s the boys you should be worried about.” Nick wiped the water off his face with his sleeve. His shirt rose, revealing several inches of tanned, toned stomach. “Steve keeps the hose with him at the grill for just these situations.”
Wondering what it would be like to touch him there, above the waistband of his low-slung shorts, Faith’s fingers twitched. She sure could use one of those coastal breezes about now.
She forced her eyes up to meet his and shifted the cake in her hands. “Maybe you should stick close to the hose, as well. Looks as if you lost the war,” she said, inclining her head to indicate his wet shirt.
“Not the war. Just the battle.” But then his smile faded as his dark gaze drifted over her, the heat of it pricking her skin. He reached out and, as light as that summer breeze she’d been wishing for, traced the tip of his finger over the thin strap of her halter top at her shoulder. “Pretty,” he murmured. “Like the sunrise.”
She couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. “I…uh…saw it, in the window at Jayne’s downtown…”
It was eye-catchingly bright, subtly sexy and a far cry from how she usually dressed. When she’d tried it on she hadn’t just felt pretty, more importantly, she felt…comfortable. She felt like herself.
And that had scared the crap out of her because she couldn’t afford to get comfortable. To be herself. Not when she might have to become someone new again.
Still, she’d had to have the outfit. A muscle jumped in Nick’s jaw as he slid his finger across her shoulder and down her arm to her elbow, trailing gooseflesh in his wake. Stepping back, he pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his front pocket and put them on.
“Let me get that for you,” he said gruffly, taking the cake from her.
“Oh. Thank you.” Except without it she had no idea what to do with her hands. So she wiped them down the sides of her white walking shorts. Crossed her arms and then let them hang at her sides before picking up her bag from where Austin had dropped it.
“Everyone’s out back,” he said. Then he took her hand.
She almost stumbled. She’d come to learn he was big on touching. He’d pressed his palm to the small of her back when they left the restaurant. Wrapped his arms around her, his solid chest against her back, as he went through the motions of the proper batting swing. Brushed his fingertips against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear while she ate her ice-cream cone.
It was…sweet. She couldn’t remember a time when a man had wanted nothing more than the simple pleasure of touching her. And realizing how much she enjoyed it, enjoyed being with him, was all too frightening.
So instead of focusing on how it felt, his rough, large palm against hers, she took in their surroundings. The Freys’ house was a mix of brick and wood, with double front doors, tall, gleaming windows and immaculate landscaping. There were trees, shrubs and flowers to soften the austere lines of the house and make it warm and welcoming, and as far as she could tell, there wasn’t one blade of crabgrass in the lush lawn.
It was a far cry from her own weed-choked backyard and spotty windows.
They rounded the garage and were met by the low hum of voices mixed with music. “This is a lovely house,” Faith said, withdrawing her hand from his before anyone could see them.
“Andrea and Steve are happy here.”
She slowed her steps as the voices grew louder. Many, many voices from the sound of it. “I especially liked that first flower bed, the one with the miniature roses. Does Andrea garden?”
He laughed. “Andrea doesn’t do dirt. Or anything related to getting dirty. Luckily, her in-laws enjoy it, so they handle the gardens for her.”
As they reached the backyard, Faith’s throat was so dry, not even the enticing scents of grilling meat could work moisture into her mouth. One look at the crowd talking and laughing on the long patio made her step back, bumping into Nick’s solid frame.
He steadied her with a hand to her upper arm. “Everything okay?” he asked.
She edged away from him—and the backyard—hugging her arms around herself. Okay? Let’s see…she was spending the day with a nice family. Her son had a new best friend and was acting like a normal nine-year-old again, and she had the interest of the sexiest man in town.
Everything was awful.
She was a liar. Worse, even she was beginning to believe her lies. Beginning to hope that she could stay in this town, be a part of these people’s lives and give her son the permanency he craved.
That she could be Faith Lewis forever.
Ever patient, Nick stood there, staring at her from behind his sunglasses, his posture relaxed, the damp hair at his nape curling. Forcing a smile, she looked up into his handsome face. “Everything’s perfect.”
IF THAT WAS TRUE, Nick thought, he’d borrow Mr. Kearns’s thong and wear it on his head.
He led her back around the corner, giving them some privacy.“I realize my family can be a bit—” High-pitched female laughter rose above the conversation and blaring rock music, and he winced. “Overwhelming, especially when we’re all together.”
“I’m way out of my element here,” Faith admitted. “I’ve never even been to a family picnic before. My mom’s idea of celebrating the Fourth was boiled hot dogs and sparklers.”
“Staples of any decent party celebrating our nation’s independence,” he said lightly, more grateful than he wanted to admit that she was telling him this. “We’ve got both, so you’re already ahead of the game.”
She laughed softly, the sound shoving out of his head his good intentions not to push her. Leaning down, he paused long enough to catch her quick intake of breath, to feel her exhalation wash over his lips.
“Oops!” a cheery female voice called. “Sorry.”
Faith jumped and Nick straightened to glare at his sister. Kathleen stood a few feet away, her dark, chin-length hair held away from her face by a pair of red sunglasses.
“Pretend I was never here,” she said, walking past them with her hand up, blocking her face.
“I should go,” Faith said, slipping past him. “I need to, uh…check on Austin and—” she snatched the container out of his hands “—deliver my cake.”
“Guess she’s not impressed by the old Coletti charm,” Kathleen said as Faith hurried off. “Although why you’d attempt a make-out session here in front of God and your family is beyond me. Anyone could wal
k up and interrupt you.”
Nick shut his eyes and tilted his head from side to side until his neck cracked. “It wasn’t a… We weren’t…Never mind.”
“Don’t go,” Kathleen said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the driveway. “I was heading out back to see if someone could give me a hand with Dana. We went on an ice run and she fell asleep as soon as we left the store’s parking lot.”
Dana, Andrea’s young daughter, adored her aunt Kathleen above anyone else. “You took her with you?”
“She was getting cranky and wouldn’t settle down for a nap, and I needed to get out of the house before I mutinied and took over the kitchen.”
At Kathleen’s ancient SUV, Nick opened the back door and handed her the small cooler he found on the floor, before unbuckling a sleeping Dana from her car seat. “I take it Andrea is Captain Bligh?”
“Who else? You know how she gets….”
“Neurotic and anal?” He lifted Dana out of her seat. Her head lolled forward, her long, dark lashes fanned against her chubby, pink-tinged cheeks.
Kathleen shut the door for him while he raised Dana so her head rested on his shoulder. “She actually complained about how I arranged the pepperoni on the antipasto tray. When she showed me a picture from a magazine of how she wanted it done, I knew I had to get away from her before I did something I’d regret.”
“That’s probably for the best. We wouldn’t want a repeat of Christmas 2002.”
“Hey, now, she started that.”
Nick grunted. He had learned early on not to get in the middle of his sisters’ arguments. But from what he could recall, Andrea had started the conflict by being her critical self most of the day. By the time dinner rolled around and she’d commented that the gravy Kathleen made had enough lumps to qualify as ham-flavored pudding, Kathleen had had enough.
Though dumping the bowl of mashed potatoes on Andrea’s head may have been overkill.
“Let’s go through the garage,” Kathleen suggested when he started for the backyard. “It’s so noisy out back and I’d hate for Dana to wake up.”
He shifted the sweating toddler higher in his arms, felt a wet spot through his shirt of what had to be drool. “The only way this kid is waking up is if a marching band starts performing next to us. And even that’s no guarantee. If you want to avoid Andrea, just say so.”
“I want to avoid Andrea.”
“Fair enough.”
In the garage, they circled Andrea’s shiny black Lexus. “Look how clean the interior of her car is,” Kathleen muttered. “I’m telling you, that’s not normal.”
Nick stepped inside and waited in the cool hallway while Kathleen shut the door and set down the ice. Female voices drifted to them from the kitchen and he could pick out his mother’s husky laugh. Thankfully, Andrea had insisted on having central air installed when they’d built this house. Holding Dana was like hugging a furnace. She murmured in her sleep, her puckered lips opening and closing. He gently brushed her sweat-dampened hair off her forehead. A seriously cute mini furnace.
“So, you and Faith, huh?” Kathleen asked over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs. “Your taste in women has improved since Nancy Janov.”
Dana stirred and lifted her head. He rubbed her back as they walked through the airy and bright game room that opened to the foyer below, and she relaxed again. “There’s nothing wrong with Nancy.”
“She has a chipmunk voice.”
“Good point.” He walked past Kathleen into Dana’s bedroom. Like the rest of Andrea’s house, his niece’s room looked as if it had been torn out of a decorating magazine. Hardwood floors, soft, moss-green walls he’d helped Steve paint, and white furniture all went together perfectly with the red-white-and-green bedding.
He carefully laid Dana on her back in the plush crib, marveling that she didn’t stir, not even when he took off her tiny red sandals. Kathleen flipped on the baby monitor and, linking her arm through his, tugged him out of the room.
“All I meant was that I think it’s great. The you and Faith thing. I like her, and Austin’s terrific.”
“Yeah, he is. But the thing with Faith and I, it’s not…We’re not…” He raked a hand through his hair. “Hell. I’m not sure what it is.”
“You’ve really got it bad, don’t you?” Kathleen asked with a laugh.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked to the railing above the foyer. He took off his sunglasses and hooked them in the collar of his shirt. While he loved all of his sisters equally, he and Kathleen, the two oldest siblings, had always been especially close. He couldn’t think of anyone whose opinion he trusted more. “What would you do if you suspected someone you were…starting to care about…was hiding something from you? Something from their past.”
She shrugged. “If it’s in the past, why worry about it? I’d sure hate for someone to hold some of my mistakes against me.”
“It’s not about holding anything against anyone,” he said in frustration. “It’s about helping them deal with whatever happened so they can move on.”
So Faith could learn to trust again. Starting with him.
“Hmm…well, I guess if I really cared about this person,” Kathleen said, “I’d make it clear I was there for them no matter what, and when they were ready to share with me whatever happened, I’d be waiting.”
“I already did that,” he grumbled.
“Let me get this straight. You think Faith has some deep, dark secret—”
“I didn’t put it that way.”
“—so you did the right thing by giving her space, but now you’re upset because she’s not working within your timeline?” His sister shook her head, her expression bemused. “Don’t be such a bonehead.”
So much for seeking her advice. “I want to help her. Is that so wrong?”
“No, it’s not wrong. But you can’t force someone to open up to you. If you’re right and something did happen to Faith, maybe it’s too painful for her to talk about. To anyone.”
“If something happened, if she’s running from something, she needs to deal with it, not pretend it never happened.”
“You don’t get to decide that.” Kathleen patted his hand as if to take away the sting. “Just as you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”
“MY MOM LIKES YOU.”
At Britney’s words, Faith bobbled the white porcelain bowl she’d just dried. She carefully set it on the counter with the rest of the clean dishes that hadn’t fit into the dishwasher. She’d hoped helping with kitchen duty would give her a short reprieve from the Coletti family’s warm acceptance of her and Austin. Everyone had gone out of their way to make them feel welcome. As if they truly wanted them there.It made her feel like crap.
“What did she… I mean, how do you know?” Faith asked.
Shrugging, Britney drained the water from the sink and dried her hands on a towel. “I can tell. And she wouldn’t have told you the secret to her famous potato salad if she didn’t.” Britney wiggled her eyebrows. “I think she’s hoping you and Nick stay together.”
Faith’s stomach dropped. “But we’re not together.”
“You went out last weekend,” Britney said, “and then you had him over for dinner. Plus, you’re the first woman he’s ever brought to a family picnic. In my book, that’s together.”
“Nick didn’t even invite us,” Faith said. “You did.”
“Yeah, but he asked me to.”
Faith’s mind spun and she grabbed on to the counter. “What?”
“I would’ve asked you anyway,” Britney said, “but before I could, he suggested it.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He told me it was because he’s scheduled to work this evening and he didn’t want to invite you, only to have to leave. I think he was afraid you’d turn him down,” she said with a smirk.
“No,” Faith murmured. “I don’t think that’s it.”
Although if he had been the one to ask, she
probably would have refused. Attending a family get-together with her boss was different from going as the guest of the man she’d been on a date with.
He’d had Britney invite her because he didn’t want Faith to feel uncomfortable, especially since he’d have to leave for work. And he probably suspected her plans to celebrate the holiday would be staying at home with Austin and cooking on her portable grill. Plus, he’d kept his promise of not pushing her.
How was she supposed to keep resisting a man like that?
Lauren, Ethan’s pretty, petite blonde wife, came in carrying her screaming two-year-old daughter, Julie, on one hip and wide-eyed, nine-month-old Michelle on the other.
“What did you do to my little jewel?” Britney asked, taking the toddler from her mother. Julie wrapped her arms around Britney’s neck and pressed her face into her shoulder. Sobs shook her tiny body.
Lauren hitched Michelle higher on her hip. “Your goddaughter needs a time-out,” she said, frazzled. “She took Dana’s doll and when Dana tried to get it back, Julie pushed her.”
Britney rubbed Julie’s back and made shushing sounds. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”
Oblivious to the turmoil around her, Michelle grinned at Faith, showing off her two top teeth. Faith couldn’t help but smile back.
“Mean it or not,” Lauren said, “I’m going to take her up to the game room and sit with her until she calms down.”
Britney waved a hand. “You go and enjoy the picnic. I’ll take her.”
Britney and Julie walked out and a minute later, Faith heard the unmistakable sound of a child’s high-pitched giggle.
She glanced at Lauren, who had emitted a low growl. “Everything all right?” Faith asked.
“The last time Britney handled one of Julie’s timeouts, Brit gave her a piece of gum to get over the trauma of sitting in one place for ten whole minutes. It took me two hours to get all the gum out of Julie’s hair.”
Faith pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “That’s terrible.”
Lauren’s own lips quirked and she shook her head. “Okay, so it’s sort of funny. But I don’t want to go through it again. Hey, listen, would you mind watching Michelle for a few minutes?”
