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Chapter One
Mick Whitehouse had it bad. So bad that not even a gorgeous redhead with big, blue eyes, legs for miles, and a dress so low-cut it practically offered a hand-written, engraved invitation to stare at her cleavage could make him stop thinking about the girl who’d walked away.
Run away is more like it.
After they’d kissed in the garden at the Fireman’s Ball, Faith Miller had broken a short distance sprint record in her hurry to get away from him. And then the next morning, while Mick was still in bed, dreaming about her sinfully addictive lips, Summerville’s only female firefighter had been splitting town. She’d taken two weeks’ vacation—an unprecedented occurrence, according to her boss, and Mick’s sister’s fiancé, Jake—and vanished.
Mick had no idea where she’d gone. He only knew he couldn’t stop thinking about her and the night he’d held her beneath the mistletoe. Faith had felt so perfect in his arms and responded to his kiss with such unrestrained passion that for a few blissful minutes she’d banished the memory of his last girlfriend from his mind—a feat Mick had been trying, and failing, to accomplish since moving home eight months ago.
Mick craved that forgetfulness even more than he craved the way Faith made his blood rush and body ache. He wanted to cover her mouth with his, pull her tight against him, and disappear into the heat they generated together.
He wanted Faith, and no other girl would do.
He’d tried to forget her. He really had. First with Kate, then Therese, and now, Nina…whose chest had to be in danger of frostbite in that tiny blue dress with only a light sweater pulled around her shoulders. Why wasn’t she wearing more clothes? At the very least, she should have on a winter coat.
Wishing a girl in a revealing dress was more covered up. What is wrong with you?
“Thanks for coming out,” Mick said, smiling at Nina, ignoring his caustic inner voice.
There was nothing wrong with him, nothing a date or four with Faith couldn’t cure, anyway. If she hadn’t run off, he could have convinced her to go out with him and be halfway to being over her by now. He didn’t want a long-term relationship or the associated angst; he just wanted to get Faith out of his system.
“Thanks for dinner,” Nina said as they stopped in front of Icing, the bakery Mick’s older sisters had opened on Main Street. “I had so much fun tonight.”
“Me too,” Mick said, fishing for his keys in his pocket, making a mental note to touch up the paint around the door the next day, after he finished the kitchen remodel he was working on south of town.
The bakery had only been open a week, but it was already a Summerville hot spot and had the chipped paint to prove it. Almost every morning, there was a line out the door as people queued up to get their favorite cookies, pastries, bread, and cakes before Icing sold out for the day. Last Saturday had been the worst.
By tomorrow morning at eight, there would be people milling around outside, visiting as they waited for the shop to open, making way too much noise for anyone to sleep in.
Which was as good a reason as any to end this date early.
Mick yawned pointedly before pulling Nina into his chest for a quick—platonic—hug. “See you at the New Year’s party Sunday. Drive safe.”
He figured that was the end of his latest failed date, but unfortunately, Nina didn’t seem to get the message.
“I could come up for a while if you want,” she said, angling herself between Mick and the door. “I’d love to see your new apartment. It sounds like fun living above a bakery.”
Mick silently cursed himself for moving out of his parents’ house, where he’d been living with his sisters while his mom and dad wintered in Florida. True, his sisters had been driving him crazy, especially when they started planning Naomi’s wedding, and the entire living room began looking like a marriage bomb had exploded, every available surface covered with wedding magazines, lace, and repulsive penis-shaped Jell-O molds for the bachelorette party. Still, he had to admit that sometimes their date-repelling qualities came in handy.
Right now, for example, he could have counted on Naomi and Maddie to scare Nina away. Not intentionally, of course. They weren’t like that. There was just something about the presence of a guy’s sisters that tended to intimidate girls—especially when one of the sisters was a famous celebrity chef. Thanks to the Sister Scare Off Factor, Mick hadn’t been with a woman since his older siblings moved back to Summerville.
In his more rational moments, Mick told himself going without sex for two months was the reason he couldn’t get Faith out of his mind. In his less rational moments, he suspected he had a crush, a bad one, the kind that wouldn’t be banished by time, distance, or dates with otherwise perfectly desirable women.
“I don’t know, Nina,” he said, taking a step away from the door. “It’s pretty messy up there.”
“I don’t mind. I know how guys are,” she said in a flirtatious voice.
A few weeks ago, Mick would have been eating that flirt up with a spoon and asking for seconds, but now it only made his stomach churn.
“Seriously, I just moved in. Half my stuff is still in boxes,” he said, turning to glance at the firehouse across the street, silently wishing Faith were working so he might have a chance at spotting her silhouette through the second floor window. “Maybe some other time?”
“Sure. No worries,” Nina said, though she sounded disappointed. “Walk me to my car, then? I get nervous walking by myself.”
“Of course,” Mick said, though he didn’t see why she would be nervous.
He could see her car from where he stood. She had parked on Main Street, less than ten feet from his front door, under a streetlight, across from the fire station where five of Summerville’s biggest and burliest were keeping watch over the firehouse. She couldn’t be safer, and Mick couldn’t help thinking about what Faith would do in a situation like this.
Faith was as fearless as she was irresistible. Even when they were kids, Faith had been the kind who could take care of herself and anyone else who had the poor judgment to mess with her. Faith would probably tell him to scram and jog home alone down Summerville’s darkest streets, never once fearing for her safety.
The thought made Mick smile as he stopped next to Nina’s car. He knew some guys had a problem with strong, independent women, but Mick couldn’t imagine anything sexier. After the living hell Bridget, his last girlfriend, put him through his senior year of college, as far as Mick was concerned—the stronger the woman, the better.
And the sexier.
For the last twelve days, Mick’s dreams had been nonstop montages of Faith’s long, shapely legs, deliciously toned arms, and soft, full lips.
Twelve days, which meant only two more days until Faith was back in town.
Two more endless, impossible days…
“So, do you have a date for Melody’s party?” Nina asked, fidgeting with her purse instead of unlocking her car. “If not, maybe we could go together.”
Mick cringed inwardly. He hated this part. He hated letting girls down easy.
Once upon a time, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal—he and Nina had only been on one date, and they’d made each other no promises—but Bridget had taught him that breaking up wasn’t always easy to do.
The first time he’d tried to end it with his ex, she’d gotten so drunk she’d ended up in the hospital having her stomach pumped. The second time, she’d cried in front of his apartment building for four hours straight, making such a scene and getting so soaked from the rain that Mick had finally given in and gone downstairs to carry his tragically fragile ex-girlfriend up to his room.
The third time, she’d threatened to kill herself. He’d tried to get her help, but Bridget had refused to talk to the college counselors. She’d said she would slit her wrists if Mick didn’t give her another chance and, knowing Bridget the way he did, Mick believed her. Trapped, Mick had agreed to reconcile, and they’d dated the rest of their senior year.
Mick had felt like a prisoner the entire time. By the time graduation rolled around, he was so miserable and exhausted and just plain sick of being held hostage, that he’d left the ceremony early, loaded his stuff into his truck, and hit the road with his graduation gown still on over his jeans and T-shirt.
Ten hours later he was pulling into Summerville with a new cell phone number and a new lease on life, determined never to look back, and never to be sucked into that kind of destructive relationship ever again.
So even though it would be easier to tell Nina “sure” he’d be her date, and pick her up on the way to the party, all while keeping his emotional distance until she got the hint, Mick shook his head. “I think I’ll go solo,” he said gently. “You’re gorgeous and fun, Nina, but I think we’d be better off as friends. If that’s okay with you.”
“Oh, yeah, totally.” Nina laughed and rolled her eyes even as she scrambled in her purse for her keys, obviously ready to make a quick getaway now that Mick had given her the “just friends” talk.
“So I’ll see you New Year’s Eve then,” she threw over her shoulder, sliding into her car, already fitting the key in the ignition before Mick could close the driver’s side door.
“See you then.” He slammed the door and stood back on the sidewalk, watching to make sure she got off safely. When she peeled out into the street without bothering to check her rearview mirror, Mick silently reaffirmed his decision to forgo more than friendship with the redhead. If the beat-up white pickup truck coming down Main hadn’t braked, it would have hit her.
Poor driving was fairly low on his list of deal-breakers, but it was on there. Along with girls who spoke in a baby voice, girls who talked trash about other girls, girls who couldn’t say they were sorry, and girls who communicated solely in text emoticons.
Bet Faith’s never used an emoticon in her life, he thought with a wistful sigh as he turned back toward the bakery to see the white truck pulling to a stop in front of the fire station. A moment later, a blonde in a camouflage jacket and bright orange hunting pants hopped out of the passenger’s side.
Even before she jogged around the front of the car, giving him a clear view of her gorgeous face, Mick knew it was Faith.
She really was gorgeous—wholesome, All-American girl from her turned-up nose, to her big brown eyes, to that silky hair that fell in long, soft waves to the center of her back—but with an edge. Her plush lips leant her face an inherent sensuality and the sharp intelligence in her eyes had made a dormant part of Mick sit up and take notice. For the first time in over a year, he’d felt a spark of something more than attraction. He was curious to know what Faith was thinking, what she was feeling, and if she felt as drawn to him as he did to her.
Considering that, at this point in his life, Mick wanted no part of a relationship, those feelings should have made him turn tail and head up to his room without another glance in Faith’s direction.
Instead, he grinned like a kid who had gotten everything he wanted for Christmas as he started down the sidewalk.
“Bye, Buddy, love you. Thanks for everything,” Faith said in that husky drawl that made Mick think of venison stew, old whiskey, and other things you wanted to savor.
Right now it also made his smile transform to a scowl as he sized up the man driving the truck, a guy with blonde hair the same shade as Faith’s and a scraggly goatee.
“Anytime, scrapper,” Buddy said, reaching out the window to ruffle Faith’s hair. “You’re always welcome. Hope we get to see more of you this year.”
“Count on it,” Faith said, snagging a backpack from the back of the truck. “Are you sure you can’t stay? I know the boys would love to say hi.”
“Nah, I’ve got to get back. I’ve missed too much work this week,” Buddy said, already easing off the brake. “But tell Jake and Jamison hi for me. And Aunt Pressie, too.”
“Will do,” Faith said, a big smile on her face as she waved good-bye to the man Mick assumed must be her cousin—or at least he hoped so.
A moment later she turned back toward the fire station only to freeze halfway around, the smile dropping from her face the moment her eyes met his.
“You,” she said with a disgusted shake of her head, her tone inferring that finding Mick starting across the street toward her was only slightly less disgusting than discovering she’d stepped in a steaming pile of dog doo. “What are you doing here?”
“I live above the bakery now,” Mick said, forcing a smile, refusing to take Faith’s scowl at face value. She’d acted irritated with him at the Fireman’s Ball, too, but she’d also kissed him like his mouth contained the last gasp of air in a burning building.
Things weren’t always what they seemed with Faith, which was part of the reason he found her so damned interesting.
“Great,” she said with a sigh, swinging her backpack over one shoulder. “When did that happen?”
“Last week, right after the store opened,” Mick said, stepping onto the sidewalk beside her. “And not long after Jake and Naomi got engaged. A lot of things have changed while you’ve been gone.”
Faith snorted in way that Mick found inexplicably sexy. “Duh. I knew that was going to happen. I knew before anyone. I have a phantom limb that tingles when people are getting ready to get hitched, and it was tingling big time for those two.”
Mick grinned. “A phantom limb?”
“Yes,” she said, standing up straighter, her posture making it clear she wasn’t in the mood to be teased, which of course only made Mick want to tease her more.
“So, where was this limb before it became a phantom, marriage-foretelling limb?” he asked, letting his eyes roam up and down Faith’s body, disturbed to find that he found her sexier in orange pants and an oversized jacket than he’d found Nina in her skimpy dress. “Was it a third arm, or a third leg?”
“It was a vestigial tail,” she said with a straight face. “And I know you don’t want to come on to a girl who used to have a tail, so take a step back, Whitehouse.”
“I wouldn’t care if you still had a tail, Miller,” he said, ambling closer, until their frosty breath mingled between their faces. “I’d still want to take you out.”
Faith’s eyes narrowed. “Stop it,” she said in a softer voice. “We talked about this.”
“We did not,” Mick said, deliberately playing dumb. “I don’t remember any talk about your tail. If I had, I would have asked Maddie to knit you a tail warmer instead of that horrible vest she made me for Christmas.”
Faith’s lips quirked up at the edges. It was just a flicker of a smile, but enough to give Mick hope.
“Come on,” he said. “Give me a chance. Let me take you and your tail out to dinner.”
“I never had a tail, and I certainly don’t have one now,” she said, then added after a beat, “As for the other…I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.”
“Liar,” Mick said, knowing he was right when Faith’s eyes widened and a spark flickered in the warm brown depths.
“I think you’re interested,” he continued, “and I think if I kissed you right now you’d kiss me back the way you did at the ball.”
“If you try, I’ll pound your face,” Faith said, her voice so breathy Mick wouldn’t have heard her if he weren’t close enough to feel her warmth caressing the front of his body, close enough to smell the campfire and soap and Faith smell of her, the one that made every hormone in his body sit up and take notice.
“I thought we’d gotten past that stage,” Mick said, his gaze flicking from her eyes to her softly parted lips, lips that begged for a kiss no matter what words they’d just spoken. “I thought you apologized for pounding on me when we were kids.”
“I did, but we’re not kids anymore,” she said, her gaze lingering on his mouth long enough to make things low in Mick’s body ache before she lifted her eyes to his. “And I seriously can’t do this. I won’t. I told you, I don’t date, especially guys like you.”
Mick frowned, the teasing expression abandoning his face. “Faith, I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but I’m not one of the bad ones. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to get to know you better.”
And hopefully get you out of my system before I get any more obsessed.
But Mick didn’t tell her that part. She was skittish enough already.
“I mean, seriously,” he continued when she didn’t respond. “I’m an okay person. I love my family and would do anything for a friend. I go to church every Sunday, even when my mama isn’t around to make me. I don’t lie, or cheat, or steal, or pick my nose while I’m driving.”
Faith huffed and rolled her eyes, but the sound was close enough to a laugh for Mick to keep going.
“And I don’t make a habit out of begging girls for dates,” he said, brushing Faith’s hair over her shoulder, wishing he could let his hand linger in the silky strands. “But I’m having a hard time getting you out of my head. Just give me a chance. If we go out, and you still can’t stand me, I’ll back off. No hard feelings.”
Faith looked up, a shadow passing behind her eyes. “And what if I don’t want you to back off?” she asked, the husky question one of the sexiest things Mick had ever heard.
“Then I guess I’ll have to get closer,” Mick said, leaning in, already imagining how she would taste, how her body would fit against his like they were made to be a matching set. But before his lips could meet hers, her hand slipped between them, covering his mouth with her cold fingers.
“Or you might back off when I least expect it,” she said, holding his eyes with an intensity that made his pulse speed even as his chest tightened with recognition.
He’d been wrong—Faith was afraid of something, after all.
“I can’t make any promises about how things might work out long-term,” Mick said, murmuring the words against her fingers. “But I’ll be honest with you. If it came time for me to back off, I guarantee you’d see it coming.”
Faith smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile, it was the jaded grin of someone who had lost her faith in happily ever after. Mick knew that smile. There were mornings when it was the first thing to greet him in the mirror.
“You can’t guarantee anything, and that is why I don’t date,” she said, dropping her hand from his lips. “I don’t like things with no guarantees, especially things that come waltzing in promising hearts and stars and sparkles and leave broken people behind. I had enough of that growing up.”
Mick nodded, a wave of sympathy for the little girl Faith had been washing through him. He didn’t know a whole lot about her family, but he knew Faith had never had a dad figure around, at least not one who stuck around for more than a year at a time.
“All right,” he said. “It makes me sad for you, but I understand.”
Faith laughed, a sharp bark that echoed down the quiet street. “Don’t waste your energy, Whitehouse. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I’m perfectly happy the way I am.”
A part of Mick was tempted to call her a liar again, but the part that wanted to pull her in for a hug and tell her it was okay not to be so tough all the time simply nodded. “All right then…so I’ll see you around?”
“Not if I see you first,” she said, backing an awkward step away. “But yeah, see you, Mick. Thanks for being cool.”
“No problem,” he said, watching her turn to go, knowing that he was anything but cool. He was warm all over, filled with a strange mix of longing and empathy and curiosity that made his skin feel too small.
No matter what he’d said to Faith, one thing was for certain—he wasn’t about to give up on her. Their conversation had only made him more determined to know her better. He wanted to be her friend, to make her feel safe letting down her guard, and to be the man who was by her side when she finally stopped fighting all that bottled-up longing inside of her.
Call him crazy, but Mick had a feeling a night with Faith would be a night he’d never forget.
With one last glance at the firehouse and the backpack-wearing shadow moving across the second floor to punch another firefighter in the arm by way of greeting, Mick smiled and headed back across the street. Tonight he’d lost a battle, but he was determined to win the war, and another taste of Faith Miller’s incomparable lips.
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