Finally Finding Faith
Page 7
“You feeling things now?” I ask. I can’t bite back my grin.
He steps closer and I feel the hard press of his manhood against my bottom. “Yep,” he says. His hands trace my rear end where my underwear line would be.
I draw in a breath, because I’m about to pass out. “God,” I breathe.
“Nope,” he says. “Just Daniel.” He pushes my hair to the side and his lips touch the nape of my neck. I have to reach for the back of the chair beside me to stay on my feet.
“Hey, Daniel,” I say quietly. He turns me to face him, and I can feel every inch of him against my belly.
“What?” he breathes back.
“Next time you’re alone with a woman in a romantic situation, don’t call her girly bits a na**d snatch, okay?” I snort out a laugh. I can’t help it.
He steps back and swipes a hand down his face. “Why can’t I call it what it is?” he asks, but he’s teasing me. He’s grinning so widely that I can see every tooth in his head. Damn, but he has a pretty smile. He takes my breath away.
“Because it’s not very romantic.” I pat the side of his face playfully, and he turns his head and blows a raspberry into my palm, holding my hand to his mouth much longer than he should.
He chuckles as he says, “I really wasn’t going for romance at the time.”
I laugh. “I could tell.”
“I just wanted you to know how I was feeling.” He’s still laughing.
I want to see him laugh like this every day for the rest of our lives. Oh, shit. Where did that come from? I step back from him, because I just scared myself. A day is one thing. A lifetime is another.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. He cups my face in his hands.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking free of his hold with a gentle twist.
“Something is wrong,” he says. He glares at me.
“We’re going to be late if we don’t get moving,” I warn. “Are you ready?”
He nods, but his brow is furrowed.
He follows me to the door and into the hallway, closing the door behind us. I have my purse over my shoulder and he tangles his fingers up with mine. He tugs them gently until I look at him. “I’m sorry I was crude,” he says. He looks into my eyes and I feel like I could fall into him and stay there forever. But I can’t.
I hold up my thumb and forefinger and show him the tiny space between them. “I have a teeny tiny confession,” I say.
His brow arches. “Do tell.”
I don’t look at him as I say, “I kind of liked it.”
“Liked what?” he says, a question in his gaze. Then he says, “Oh.” He jerks a thumb toward the room. “Crude does it for you, huh?” he says. He’s grinning again, and he’s so handsome when he’s happy. He was born pretty, but when he’s happy, he glows. He chucks my shoulder with his. “Gets your panties wet.” He covers his mouth. “Oops,” he says. “You’re not wearing any.”
“Shh!” I hiss as people get into the elevator with us. He pulls me to stand in front of him with his hand on my waist, while the other dips down and squeezes my butt cheek. My heart flips in my chest. I bat at his hand behind me and catch it, drawing it around to press it against my belly. But then his thumb slides across the underside of my breast. I hiss in a breath. “Stop it,” I mouth, glaring at him in the mirror. He sticks his face in my neck and chuckles against my skin.
I don’t know where this intimacy came from, but it feels so right. And so wrong at the same time, because I know he’s not at a place in his life where he can accept more from me. And I can’t ask him to give me anything because he has nothing left in the hole that is his heart. He has to fill it up for himself before he can give any to me. I know that, and it makes me sad. But he laughs again into my neck and I forget my trepidation. I have the rest of the night to enjoy.
We step out into the street and I immediately wish I had a coat that looks nice. But all I had was my old college sweater and jeans and they are now stuffed into my purse. I shiver lightly. He immediately shrugs out of his suit coat and places it around my shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing,” he says.
“What about you?” I ask, tugging his coat closer. “You’re going to get cold.”
He laughs. “I could use a little cooling off.” He waggles his brows at me. His fingers tangle with mine again and he points. There’s a carriage waiting in the street. One drawn by a horse. “Your chariot awaits,” he says.
I look at him. “Did you call for this?” I ask.
He nods. “When you were in the shower.”
I smile at him and look into his eyes. “This was on your list.”
“And yours, too,” he says. He leans down and kisses my nose.
I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you know that?”
“Doesn’t every girl want to ride in a horse-drawn carriage?” he says, but he’s still grinning. He helps me, and as I step onto the platform, he whistles softly when the wind blows my skirt around my knees.
“Oh, would you stop?” I say. But I secretly hope he doesn’t.
Daniel
I have no idea what happened during the show. I spent too much time watching Faith. She was entranced. Her breath caught when she was scared, and she laid a hand on her chest when she was moved, and she squeezed my thigh when she wanted to make sure I saw what she saw. But all I see is her. Her eyes fill with tears and I pull out my handkerchief, because men always carry handkerchiefs just for this reason, and hand it to her. She dabs at her eyes and shoots me a glance.
“I see you,” I say quietly to her.
“Well, I hope so,” she whispers back.
I look into her eyes. “No, Faith. I mean I really see you. I see you. All of you.”
She looks away from me, and toward the stage. But she squeezes my hand and dabs at her eyes again.
She doesn’t speak again until the end of the performance, and she gets up and claps along with everyone else. She turns to me. “Just in case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time today.”
A grin tugs at my lips. I follow her from the theater with my hand at her back.
“Are you ready to go to Rocko’s?” she asks.
I am absolutely starving. The only thing either of us has had to eat was a snack I bought at intermission. She’s been with me all day. She has to be as hungry as I am. “It’s close, right?” I remember going there with my mom, but it has been a number of years.
“We can walk,” she says with a nod.
“Maybe there will be a nice, stiff wind,” I tease. Her face colors again. I will never get tired of that.
“Dream on, soldier,” she teases.
We take a seat at Rocko’s and I go for the one-pound burger. Rocko has a wall of fame, and if you can eat the humongous burger, you get your picture added to the wall and your burger is free. I have never been able to do it, but I’m hungrier today than I have ever been before when I tried this. Not to mention older. She gets an order of fries. “No burger?” I ask.
She shakes her head and grins. “This isn’t my first rodeo,” she says. She drinks a cherry cola and she looks so damn happy. Today really was the perfect day.
“What’s your story, Faith?” I ask. I have wanted to know all day. No man in his right mind would let her go if he ever spent one moment with her. “You made me spill my guts. Now it’s your turn.”
She shakes her head and bites her lips together. “You don’t want to hear my story,” she says sadly, and her face clouds.
I take her hand in mine. “I do,” I say. “Why hasn’t a man snatched you up?” I ask.
“There goes that snatch word again,” she says.
I chuckle out loud, hanging my head back. My chest rumbles. I have laughed more today than I have in years. I whisper playfully, “At least I didn’t say na**d snatch.”
She crosses her legs beneath the table and that makes me laugh even more. “Wet, na**d snatch,” she says quietly, and the heat of her words shoots straight to my dick. She laughs.
I know what she’s doing though. She’s trying to brush off my question. I am the master at evasion, so I know. “Tell me your story, Faith. Why aren’t you in a relationship?”
She nods. It’s a quick jerk, almost like she’s steeling herself. “I was.”
“Married?” I ask.
She nods and she leans back. She’s purposefully putting distance between us. I’m okay with that for now. “Yes, for two years.”
“What happened?” I ask. “He has to be an idiot if he let you go.”
She smiles, but it’s sad. It’s more for me than her. “He died.” She coughs into her fist like she needs to clear her throat. She blinks furiously and waves a hand in her face. “I swore I wouldn’t do this today,” she says, chuckling, but it’s a watery sound.
“How did he die?”
She clears her throat again. “Drunk driver. Two years ago today.”
“Oh, shit,” I say. I get up and slide into her side of the booth so I can sit beside her. She pushes me back, though.
“I’m fine,” she says. “I’m not going to cry. Not for long.” She laughs again.
I take her face in my hands and look into her green eyes. “It’s okay to cry.”
She heaves a sigh. “It’s been such a wonderful day,” she says. “Thank you so much for taking my mind off of it.” She smiles, and this time it’s real. “I really appreciate it.”
“I wish you’d told me sooner,” I say. “I would have worked harder.”
She giggles. “Today was wonderful,” she breathes. She lays her forehead on my chest, and I palm the back of her head, stroking down the length of her hair. She lets me for a minute, and then the waiter is back with the food. I don’t move back to my side of the booth. I stay right where I am, because it’s where I want to be.
“You loved him a lot,” I say. I don’t have to ask. I just know.
She dips a French fry into her ketchup. “Lots,” she says, and then she crams the fry into her mouth.
I nod, and take a bite of my burger. “Have you dated since him?” I ask. I might be getting too personal, but she asked me about the burns and my men, so maybe it’s all right.
She nods. “I’ve been on dates,” she says. “But it’s just…” She stops and heaves in a breath. “Hard. It’s hard to get over it.”
I look into her eyes. “Why did you want to spend the day with me today? To forget?”
She shakes her head. “That’s only part of it. I did forget. For a long time today, I forgot. But I saw in you the same loneliness I had after he died. I wanted to help you. To make you feel better.” She shrugs.
“It did. Make me feel better, I mean.” My heart is thumping like mad and it blows my mind that this happy woman who brought me so much joy went through such a tragedy two years ago on this very date. “I wish I could get better for you, Faith,” I say.
She shakes her head again and lays her flat hand upon my heart. I cover it with mine. “Get better for you, Daniel. Just for you.”
I nod. I can’t get better. Not if I go through with my plans tonight. Oh, hell.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her brow furrowing. “You suddenly looked lost.”
“Nothing,” I say, and I take a bite of my burger.
“You’re lying, but okay,” she says, and she starts to eat her fries.
I’m about ten bites in when I realize I can’t eat another bite of the burger. I blow out a breath. “I can’t do it. I wish I could.” I groan and push the plate away.
“I knew it!” she cries. She pumps a fist in the air and picks up my burger. She takes a bite out of it.
I snort. “You’re taking great big sips of joy from my pain, aren’t you?”
“Yep,” she says over full bite of hamburger. But she’s grinning and she’s so f**king beautiful when she smiles.
“I’m sorry about your husband,” I say. I should leave it alone, but I don’t want to.
“So am I,” she says, “but lamenting over it isn’t going to bring him back. He would want me to be happy. And I’m happy.” She shrugs. She takes my face in her hand and turns me to look at her. “Truly, you were a godsend today, Daniel. You took my mind off my troubles and made the day wonderful. And I will thank you forever for it.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes, and she grins at me and says, “We have to buy chestnuts.”
I groan. “I couldn’t eat anything else.”
She leans into my shoulder playfully. “We have to finish your list.” She takes my hand and turns my watch up, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix your watch,” she says.
“It’s just a watch.”
“Time didn’t stand still, Daniel,” she says. “You did.”
“I know.” But I don’t know how to undo it. Today felt great, but what about tomorrow?
“Are you ready to go?” she asks.
I nod. I’m not really ready to go. But I guess we should. It’s getting dark out, and I need to take her back home. I’m not quite ready to let her go yet, though.
We stop and buy hot chestnuts even though we’re both too full to eat them. Then we get in a cab to go back to her house. She rattles off the address, and the numbers stick in my head. She’s quiet on the way back. And I hate the idea of breaking the silence. It’s comfortable. I lay a hand upon her thigh and squeeze it gently. She lays her palm over mine and looks up at me, and tilts her head onto my shoulder.
He steps closer and I feel the hard press of his manhood against my bottom. “Yep,” he says. His hands trace my rear end where my underwear line would be.
I draw in a breath, because I’m about to pass out. “God,” I breathe.
“Nope,” he says. “Just Daniel.” He pushes my hair to the side and his lips touch the nape of my neck. I have to reach for the back of the chair beside me to stay on my feet.
“Hey, Daniel,” I say quietly. He turns me to face him, and I can feel every inch of him against my belly.
“What?” he breathes back.
“Next time you’re alone with a woman in a romantic situation, don’t call her girly bits a na**d snatch, okay?” I snort out a laugh. I can’t help it.
He steps back and swipes a hand down his face. “Why can’t I call it what it is?” he asks, but he’s teasing me. He’s grinning so widely that I can see every tooth in his head. Damn, but he has a pretty smile. He takes my breath away.
“Because it’s not very romantic.” I pat the side of his face playfully, and he turns his head and blows a raspberry into my palm, holding my hand to his mouth much longer than he should.
He chuckles as he says, “I really wasn’t going for romance at the time.”
I laugh. “I could tell.”
“I just wanted you to know how I was feeling.” He’s still laughing.
I want to see him laugh like this every day for the rest of our lives. Oh, shit. Where did that come from? I step back from him, because I just scared myself. A day is one thing. A lifetime is another.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. He cups my face in his hands.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking free of his hold with a gentle twist.
“Something is wrong,” he says. He glares at me.
“We’re going to be late if we don’t get moving,” I warn. “Are you ready?”
He nods, but his brow is furrowed.
He follows me to the door and into the hallway, closing the door behind us. I have my purse over my shoulder and he tangles his fingers up with mine. He tugs them gently until I look at him. “I’m sorry I was crude,” he says. He looks into my eyes and I feel like I could fall into him and stay there forever. But I can’t.
I hold up my thumb and forefinger and show him the tiny space between them. “I have a teeny tiny confession,” I say.
His brow arches. “Do tell.”
I don’t look at him as I say, “I kind of liked it.”
“Liked what?” he says, a question in his gaze. Then he says, “Oh.” He jerks a thumb toward the room. “Crude does it for you, huh?” he says. He’s grinning again, and he’s so handsome when he’s happy. He was born pretty, but when he’s happy, he glows. He chucks my shoulder with his. “Gets your panties wet.” He covers his mouth. “Oops,” he says. “You’re not wearing any.”
“Shh!” I hiss as people get into the elevator with us. He pulls me to stand in front of him with his hand on my waist, while the other dips down and squeezes my butt cheek. My heart flips in my chest. I bat at his hand behind me and catch it, drawing it around to press it against my belly. But then his thumb slides across the underside of my breast. I hiss in a breath. “Stop it,” I mouth, glaring at him in the mirror. He sticks his face in my neck and chuckles against my skin.
I don’t know where this intimacy came from, but it feels so right. And so wrong at the same time, because I know he’s not at a place in his life where he can accept more from me. And I can’t ask him to give me anything because he has nothing left in the hole that is his heart. He has to fill it up for himself before he can give any to me. I know that, and it makes me sad. But he laughs again into my neck and I forget my trepidation. I have the rest of the night to enjoy.
We step out into the street and I immediately wish I had a coat that looks nice. But all I had was my old college sweater and jeans and they are now stuffed into my purse. I shiver lightly. He immediately shrugs out of his suit coat and places it around my shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing,” he says.
“What about you?” I ask, tugging his coat closer. “You’re going to get cold.”
He laughs. “I could use a little cooling off.” He waggles his brows at me. His fingers tangle with mine again and he points. There’s a carriage waiting in the street. One drawn by a horse. “Your chariot awaits,” he says.
I look at him. “Did you call for this?” I ask.
He nods. “When you were in the shower.”
I smile at him and look into his eyes. “This was on your list.”
“And yours, too,” he says. He leans down and kisses my nose.
I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you know that?”
“Doesn’t every girl want to ride in a horse-drawn carriage?” he says, but he’s still grinning. He helps me, and as I step onto the platform, he whistles softly when the wind blows my skirt around my knees.
“Oh, would you stop?” I say. But I secretly hope he doesn’t.
Daniel
I have no idea what happened during the show. I spent too much time watching Faith. She was entranced. Her breath caught when she was scared, and she laid a hand on her chest when she was moved, and she squeezed my thigh when she wanted to make sure I saw what she saw. But all I see is her. Her eyes fill with tears and I pull out my handkerchief, because men always carry handkerchiefs just for this reason, and hand it to her. She dabs at her eyes and shoots me a glance.
“I see you,” I say quietly to her.
“Well, I hope so,” she whispers back.
I look into her eyes. “No, Faith. I mean I really see you. I see you. All of you.”
She looks away from me, and toward the stage. But she squeezes my hand and dabs at her eyes again.
She doesn’t speak again until the end of the performance, and she gets up and claps along with everyone else. She turns to me. “Just in case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time today.”
A grin tugs at my lips. I follow her from the theater with my hand at her back.
“Are you ready to go to Rocko’s?” she asks.
I am absolutely starving. The only thing either of us has had to eat was a snack I bought at intermission. She’s been with me all day. She has to be as hungry as I am. “It’s close, right?” I remember going there with my mom, but it has been a number of years.
“We can walk,” she says with a nod.
“Maybe there will be a nice, stiff wind,” I tease. Her face colors again. I will never get tired of that.
“Dream on, soldier,” she teases.
We take a seat at Rocko’s and I go for the one-pound burger. Rocko has a wall of fame, and if you can eat the humongous burger, you get your picture added to the wall and your burger is free. I have never been able to do it, but I’m hungrier today than I have ever been before when I tried this. Not to mention older. She gets an order of fries. “No burger?” I ask.
She shakes her head and grins. “This isn’t my first rodeo,” she says. She drinks a cherry cola and she looks so damn happy. Today really was the perfect day.
“What’s your story, Faith?” I ask. I have wanted to know all day. No man in his right mind would let her go if he ever spent one moment with her. “You made me spill my guts. Now it’s your turn.”
She shakes her head and bites her lips together. “You don’t want to hear my story,” she says sadly, and her face clouds.
I take her hand in mine. “I do,” I say. “Why hasn’t a man snatched you up?” I ask.
“There goes that snatch word again,” she says.
I chuckle out loud, hanging my head back. My chest rumbles. I have laughed more today than I have in years. I whisper playfully, “At least I didn’t say na**d snatch.”
She crosses her legs beneath the table and that makes me laugh even more. “Wet, na**d snatch,” she says quietly, and the heat of her words shoots straight to my dick. She laughs.
I know what she’s doing though. She’s trying to brush off my question. I am the master at evasion, so I know. “Tell me your story, Faith. Why aren’t you in a relationship?”
She nods. It’s a quick jerk, almost like she’s steeling herself. “I was.”
“Married?” I ask.
She nods and she leans back. She’s purposefully putting distance between us. I’m okay with that for now. “Yes, for two years.”
“What happened?” I ask. “He has to be an idiot if he let you go.”
She smiles, but it’s sad. It’s more for me than her. “He died.” She coughs into her fist like she needs to clear her throat. She blinks furiously and waves a hand in her face. “I swore I wouldn’t do this today,” she says, chuckling, but it’s a watery sound.
“How did he die?”
She clears her throat again. “Drunk driver. Two years ago today.”
“Oh, shit,” I say. I get up and slide into her side of the booth so I can sit beside her. She pushes me back, though.
“I’m fine,” she says. “I’m not going to cry. Not for long.” She laughs again.
I take her face in my hands and look into her green eyes. “It’s okay to cry.”
She heaves a sigh. “It’s been such a wonderful day,” she says. “Thank you so much for taking my mind off of it.” She smiles, and this time it’s real. “I really appreciate it.”
“I wish you’d told me sooner,” I say. “I would have worked harder.”
She giggles. “Today was wonderful,” she breathes. She lays her forehead on my chest, and I palm the back of her head, stroking down the length of her hair. She lets me for a minute, and then the waiter is back with the food. I don’t move back to my side of the booth. I stay right where I am, because it’s where I want to be.
“You loved him a lot,” I say. I don’t have to ask. I just know.
She dips a French fry into her ketchup. “Lots,” she says, and then she crams the fry into her mouth.
I nod, and take a bite of my burger. “Have you dated since him?” I ask. I might be getting too personal, but she asked me about the burns and my men, so maybe it’s all right.
She nods. “I’ve been on dates,” she says. “But it’s just…” She stops and heaves in a breath. “Hard. It’s hard to get over it.”
I look into her eyes. “Why did you want to spend the day with me today? To forget?”
She shakes her head. “That’s only part of it. I did forget. For a long time today, I forgot. But I saw in you the same loneliness I had after he died. I wanted to help you. To make you feel better.” She shrugs.
“It did. Make me feel better, I mean.” My heart is thumping like mad and it blows my mind that this happy woman who brought me so much joy went through such a tragedy two years ago on this very date. “I wish I could get better for you, Faith,” I say.
She shakes her head again and lays her flat hand upon my heart. I cover it with mine. “Get better for you, Daniel. Just for you.”
I nod. I can’t get better. Not if I go through with my plans tonight. Oh, hell.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her brow furrowing. “You suddenly looked lost.”
“Nothing,” I say, and I take a bite of my burger.
“You’re lying, but okay,” she says, and she starts to eat her fries.
I’m about ten bites in when I realize I can’t eat another bite of the burger. I blow out a breath. “I can’t do it. I wish I could.” I groan and push the plate away.
“I knew it!” she cries. She pumps a fist in the air and picks up my burger. She takes a bite out of it.
I snort. “You’re taking great big sips of joy from my pain, aren’t you?”
“Yep,” she says over full bite of hamburger. But she’s grinning and she’s so f**king beautiful when she smiles.
“I’m sorry about your husband,” I say. I should leave it alone, but I don’t want to.
“So am I,” she says, “but lamenting over it isn’t going to bring him back. He would want me to be happy. And I’m happy.” She shrugs. She takes my face in her hand and turns me to look at her. “Truly, you were a godsend today, Daniel. You took my mind off my troubles and made the day wonderful. And I will thank you forever for it.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes, and she grins at me and says, “We have to buy chestnuts.”
I groan. “I couldn’t eat anything else.”
She leans into my shoulder playfully. “We have to finish your list.” She takes my hand and turns my watch up, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix your watch,” she says.
“It’s just a watch.”
“Time didn’t stand still, Daniel,” she says. “You did.”
“I know.” But I don’t know how to undo it. Today felt great, but what about tomorrow?
“Are you ready to go?” she asks.
I nod. I’m not really ready to go. But I guess we should. It’s getting dark out, and I need to take her back home. I’m not quite ready to let her go yet, though.
We stop and buy hot chestnuts even though we’re both too full to eat them. Then we get in a cab to go back to her house. She rattles off the address, and the numbers stick in my head. She’s quiet on the way back. And I hate the idea of breaking the silence. It’s comfortable. I lay a hand upon her thigh and squeeze it gently. She lays her palm over mine and looks up at me, and tilts her head onto my shoulder.
