Chapter Five
The next night, Amy asked Faro to feed the deer with her.
She hadn’t meant to invite him, but he’d caught up with her as she was bundling up to go outdoors. It would’ve been rude not to let him tag along.
Or maybe it was a justification for wanting to share the experience with him.
Amy opened the barn door. “Okay, no sudden movements.”
Faro stilled. “Why? Are they dangerous?”
“No, but they’re shy.”
As a rule, the deer didn’t like strangers. However, they walked right up to Faro, as though curious about him. They sniffed his hands, and clothes, before bowing their heads so he could pet them, the little traitors.
“Seriously, Cupid? You’ll let a stranger pet you, but not me?”
The animal grunted and turned his attention back to Faro. The reindeer locked eyes with him. For a moment, she wondered if there was some silent communication between them, but it was a silly idea.
After she greeted Comet, they got to work. While she mucked Comet’s stall, he took care of Cupid’s. She was grateful for the help, and it was nice sharing the task with someone again. Amy used to do this with her dad and they’d laughed and talked while they worked. He made even mundane chores fun.
After they finished feeding and watering the deer, she stroked Comet again, as he ate. He made these contented snuffling noises.
“You love them, don’t you?”
“They’re my boys.”
He scratched Cupid’s ears. “Yes, they both love you.” Faro said it like he’d consulted with them.
“They adored my dad, too. He planned on playing Santa with the kids, complete with his own reindeer.” He hadn’t gotten the chance to see his plan through.
“You speak of Christmas?”
Here we go.
“Yup.”
“And it’s a holiday, involving an infant deity, and a large, red-suited, old man?”
Amy chuckled at his description. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Faro made it seem as though he’d never even heard of Santa or Jesus. Amy thought everyone was familiar with the holiday, even if they didn't celebrate it. Anyone who went walking through a department store in December got an education pretty fast. It was yet another thing which didn’t add up.
“You’re not Christian?”
“No.”
He didn’t offer any further explanation, and Amy knew better than to ask. He’d only dodge the question.
Saying Faro wasn’t like other people was an understatement. Despite his eccentricities, Amy was charmed by him, in more than one way. After all, he couldn’t be that bad, if the deer liked him.
“Whenever you’re here, you think about your father, don’t you?”
“Yes, whenever I’m with them, it’s like I have a little piece of him back.” Maybe because he’d loved them so much. Whenever she took care of Comet and Cupid, Amy felt close to him.
His death had taken her by surprise, and she still hadn’t fully dealt with it. Amy wanted one more conversation, one more hug from him, another movie night, just more time. And even if she somehow got her wish, Amy doubted it would ever be enough. She felt cheated.
When she glanced up, Amy found Faro watching her.
“I can feel your grief. It’s draped over you like a shroud.”
The tears threatened to fall again, and Amy lifted her chin. No, she wouldn’t fall apart. If she let it all out, the grief would consume her, suck her under.
“I’m fine.” Those two words were like magic, and always made people back off.
“You’re lying.” Undaunted, he stepped closer.
“What if I am?”
“You don’t have to hide your feelings. Not with me, not ever.”
“I hardly know you.”
“Yes, but we grow closer every single day. I never had a father, but I understand loss.”
“You never had a dad?” Did he die before Faro was born?
“I didn’t, but we aren’t talking about me, this is about you. Your pain is all-consuming, isn’t it? It weighs on you every moment of every day.”
“No. I’m okay.” Her vision blurred.
“You aren’t. If you let me in, I could help.”
“Trust me, you can’t.” And yet, she had the sudden urge to talk to him. While Amy loved her, Ivy wasn’t emotionally equipped to deal with heartache. Amy had stuffed it down, since she had no one else to turn to.
“At least tell me how he died.”
Amy hung onto Comet. “It wasn’t quick and painless.”
Her father deserved to die in his own bed, as an old man, surrounded by the people who loved him. He hadn’t even made it to fifty.
“It seldom is. What happened?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “My dad had a terrible car accident, but fell into a coma afterward. I didn’t know what to do. We never talked about end-of-life decisions.” She’d been woefully unprepared for dealing with the reality of death. It had been difficult on so many levels.
“So, what did you do?”
“I held out hope for a month, until the doctors convinced me he wouldn’t wake up. And if, by some miracle, he did, my dad would never be the same.” For four weeks, she’d lived in limbo. Every morning, she raced to the hospital, hoping he’d woken up during the night, but he never had.
“He had neurological damage?” Faro asked.
She nodded. “The doctors thought so. I spent weeks at the hospital with him, talking to him, trying to snap him out of it, and I was kidding myself. We hadn’t discussed it, but dad wouldn’t have wanted to live that way, attached to machines, unable to move or speak. And I feel guilty for forcing it on him.”
Faro nodded.
“I remember how small he looked lying in bed, how helpless.” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t know how to handle it.” Amy patted Comet, and his eyes slid shut in abject pleasure.
Then, she noticed Faro was crying, as though her tears had become his. They slid silently down his cheeks. And somehow, she no longer had the urge to weep. Amy felt as though she could breathe once more, as though the pain weren’t weighing her down anymore.
She stepped back.
“Come here.” He held out his arms to her. “Allow me to comfort you.”
His embrace looked so inviting, but there was something going on here, she didn’t quite understand.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Amy ran away. Again.
***
When the alarm rang at five-thirty, Amy switched it off, and lay back down with a smile. For once, she’d woken up rested and refreshed. Funny, she was looking forward to starting her day.
Amy hadn’t felt this optimistic in a long time.
And she knew the reason why—Faro.
Talking to him had been cathartic, even if she’d resisted his offer of comfort. In a small way, he’d eased her misery. And she’d liked sharing Comet and Cupid with Faro. He understood how special the animals were to her.
Amy got out of bed and went through her morning routine. When she walked into the kitchen, she found Faro standing by the counter.
She wasn’t prepared for the sight of him nearly naked. Unable to help herself, Amy gaped at him. And here she’d been distracted by watching him play gladiator in the snow. It was child’s play compared to this.
Moonlight illuminated his form. He stood in front of a large ceramic bowl, the one Sage used to make sourdough bread in last week. Faro dragged a sponge up and down the length of his arm, stopping only to submerge it in the water once more, before repeating the process. His arms were massive, corded with muscle and sinew, and the veins stood out, stark against the skin.
Water dripped seductively down his chest. The sight reminded her of one of those food ads, the kind with water droplets on a peach or an apple to make the fruit look even more mouthwatering.
Mouthwatering, there’s a perfect word to describe Faro.
She gasped.
Faro must’ve heard the sound, because he turned to face her.
He cocked a brow. “Good morning, sweeting.”
Amy didn’t reply for the longest time. He got on her nerves, and not in a negative way. No, he stirred her up, placed her on edge. She didn’t know whether she wanted to kiss him or slap him, possibly both.
She cleared her throat. “Aren’t you chilly?”
Faro stood buck naked, slathering himself with tap water, which must’ve cooled already, and yet he didn’t seem bothered. Amy wore a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans, along with wool socks, and she was still a bit nippy.
Until she saw him, that is. Now, she felt decidedly hot.
He grinned. “No, I find the temperature quite balmy. Where I come from, it’s much colder.”
She’d heard the temperatures in the far north could be excruciating, as in freeze-your-face-off cold. She supposed it was all relative though. People in the southern states freaked when it dipped into the mid-sixties.
“Oh.”
Concentrating on his words was difficult. All she could see was his chest. If it weren’t for the kitchen island, would she get an eyeful? Dammit. Her innermost thoughts were slightly slutty.
“Uh, is something wrong with your shower? Because I can have the maintenance man take a look at it.”
Brian was due into work this afternoon. She had a long list of items for him to fix. Amy would be happy to add Faro’s bathroom to it, if it meant she wouldn’t find him like this again. Her poor heart couldn’t stand it.
“My shower?” She couldn’t tell whether it was for effect, or because he genuinely didn’t know.
“Yes, in your room.”
He cocked a brow. “I didn’t think anyone else was up yet.”
“I’m usually an early riser.”
He nodded sagely. “Ah, yes, you were spying on me the other morning.”
“I wasn’t spying on you. I looked out the window, and there you were.” She sounded defensive, even to her own ears.
Faro smirked. “We shall agree to disagree.” He wet the sponge once more and dabbed at his chest.
She licked her lips. Somehow, they’d veered off topic.
“About your shower—”
“You’re referring to the small room adjoining the bedroom?”
“Yes.”
“It’s used for bathing?”
Maybe he came from the backwoods, and washed off in a river like Daniel Boone?
“Yes, turn on the taps, and water spurts out, like the sink.” Ugh. Did I have to use the word spurt? “I can show you how to use it, if you like.”
“Can you?” His voice dipped lower. “I’d enjoy your company, sweeting.”
Wait. Did he think she’d propositioned him?
“I mean, I’ll show you the mechanics. It wasn’t an offer to bathe with you.”
“How disappointing.”
A thought occurred to her.
“Hey, you figured out how to use the sink. Why wouldn’t you understand how the shower worked?” It didn’t make any sense.
Faro didn’t reply, but he smirked.
Busted. What a great big jerk.
He must’ve determined what time she woke up, and set a trap for her. Tricky. She’d have to be on her guard around him.
Faro rounded the island, and he was indeed, naked. She only caught a fleeting glimpse below the waist, before her gaze darted upward, and focused on his face instead.
Oh, my God. Don’t look down, for pity’s sake.
Faro got closer, and she didn’t back away. Somehow, she’d either forgotten how to move, or didn’t want to leave. Both possibilities were disturbing.
He stood, towering over her. The sheer size of him was intimidating. Amy could feel the heat wafting from his body. How could he be so warm?
“Earlier, you said no other man had a claim on you.” He cupped her chin. “Tell me, Amy, would you enjoy belonging to me?”
The remark should’ve been offensive, and Amy should’ve slapped his face, or given him an earful. She did neither of those things. Instead, Amy stared at him, momentarily flabbergasted.
And then her traitorous body responded.
Her nipples pebbled, poking against the fabric of her shirt, as though edging toward him.
His gaze dipped to her chest. “I can see you would.”
Amy wanted to protest, but she couldn’t hide the reaction. She was flushed, aggravated, and turned on all at the same time.
“Your silence is telling.” Faro cupped a breast through her clothing, tweaking one nipple. “Fair warning, Amy, I’m going to make you mine.”
She found her voice again. “No, I don’t want—”
He laid a finger against her lips. “Shh. We both know you don’t mean it. You want me, I can feel it. If I placed a hand between your thighs, you’d be wet for me, dripping with desire.”
The bastard was right and it infuriated her.
Amy raised a hand, finally ready to slap him, but Faro caught her wrist.
“You’re going to be mine, Amy, soon. You’d best come to terms with it.”
Faro headed upstairs, leaving Amy shivering in the kitchen.
***
I’m in over my head.
Amy hadn’t been able to concentrate the whole day. So much for finishing her monstrous to-do list. Faro plagued her thoughts, and every time he crossed her mind, a shivery sort of exhilaration overcame her.
His caveman talk had been oddly exciting. No man had ever spoken to her like that. With the woman shortage, men fell all over themselves to get a girl. She’d been wined and dined and romanced.
Not Faro.
He’d demanded a response, but that didn’t mean she had to give into him, or her own worst impulses. At first, she’d thought he wanted a fling, but his behavior perplexed her. He was trying to get close to her, emotionally as well as physically.
The prospect of getting attached to him was even worse. Amy didn’t give a damn what the quote said, loving and losing someone was awful. She’d watched her dad go through it, and she’d rather avoid a broken heart.
Nope, I’m gonna shut this down.
“Earth to Amy, can you hear me?”
Amy shook her head. “Sorry. What?”
“Let’s do lunch.” Ivy tapped an impatient foot on the floor.
“I’d like to, but I have a ton of work to do.” Mostly because she’d gotten a big zero accomplished.
“Who are you kidding? You were sitting there, staring off into space. I brought enough food for two. Come on, keep me company.”
Amy followed Ivy to the kitchen. Sure enough, there were two large plates full of chicken salad. They sat side by side at the table.
Ivy rolled up her yoga pants, and plunged her legs into a clean trashcan, filled with ice water. Even looking at it, made Amy shiver. Every day, Ivy iced her legs after dancing. She had a plastic bag full of the cold stuff resting on her knees, too.
Ivy wolfed down her food, while Amy picked at hers. Amy always assumed ballet dancers had dainty appetites, living on lettuce or saltines or something, but Ivy ate like a linebacker. Granted, she consumed healthy food, but she ate a lot of it.
She danced for two hours every single day, and on top of that, she did another hour or so of exercise, hiking during the summer and aerobics during the winter. So she burned off a crap ton of calories. Consequently, Ivy was always hungry and Amy envied her friend’s formidable metabolism.
“I don’t know how you stand it.” Amy nodded to the trashcan.
She finished a bite of salad. “Well, it’s easier when I have a distraction, like eating and talking with my best friend. And if I don’t, the swelling will keep me from dancing tomorrow, so, it’s an easy choice.”
A year ago, she’d broken an ankle during a performance, and it had ended her professional dancing career. So Ivy had taken two jobs, while she saved money to buy a studio of her own. The injury wouldn’t be an issue, if she taught ballet to children and other beginners.
“So what’s up with you, honey? You’re quiet.”
“Nothing. Nope. Not a thing, it’s been boring, actually.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “You’re so full of it. What’s going on between you and Hottie?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do.”
“We’ve had this conversation before.”
“Only because you won’t admit that you like him.”
Amy sighed. “Fine, maybe something’s going on.”
“I knew it!” She snickered. “And I’m relieved.”
“Why?”
She winced. “Well, since your dad died, you haven’t been the same. I’ve been worried about you.” For once, Ivy wasn’t making a joke or being blunt, so she must be concerned.
“I'm fine, mostly.” She lifted a shoulder.
“Yeah, you like telling everyone just how fine you are, but I know better. You’ve been miserable for months.”
Ivy was right. Amy led a lonely life, one based on responsibilities and requirements. She didn’t look forward to the future anymore. The days seemed empty, when she had no family to share them with.
“Being alone sucks.”
“Believe me, I know what you mean.” Ivy squared her shoulders. She’d grown up in foster care since she’d been abandoned as a child.
Amy squeezed her hand, but Ivy pulled away.
“It’ll get better with time. Trust me.”
Amy hoped so.
And then she noticed one of the Smith brothers, eyeing them. Actually, Jude couldn’t take his eyes off Ivy. Hmm. Apparently, Amy wasn’t the only one with an admirer.
He’d just walked into the kitchen and headed straight for them. He moved with a silent sort of grace, sleek and measured. Jude was dingy, soot staining his face and hands. There was even a fine coating on his clothing.
Hadn’t Faro mentioned something about gathering natural resources? Were they mining?
Jude knelt by Ivy’s chair. “You’re injured.”
“Yeah, I’m a dancer, so it comes with the territory.” She shrugged, as though it didn’t bother her.
“I’m a healer, may I take a look?”
Jude was a healer? A doctor? Or did he practice folk medicine?
“No, it’s cool, so don’t worry.” She’d gone to every specialist in the state, and they’d all told her the same thing—she’d never dance professionally again. Amy knew it had been difficult for her to make peace with, but somehow she’d moved on to a new dream.
“As you like.” Jude sat in the chair next to Ivy, and crossed both arms over his massive chest.
Even though they were brothers, Amy didn’t see the family resemblance. Faro was golden, while Jude was dark. Faro was charming and mischievous, and Jude was sullen and darkly handsome. He had a gloomy sort of energy about him, a melancholy. He reminded Amy of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, if the donkey was seven feet tall and intimidating.
Ivy shifted away from him, leaning toward Amy instead.
Jude ignored her body language. “Perhaps when you get to know me better, you’ll allow me to examine you.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. No means no, dude.”
Amy had seen her push countless men away. Since the accident, Ivy had an even bigger chip on her shoulder.
“I won’t give up, Ivy, I can be a very patient man.”
“Yeah, whatever. If you don’t mind, we’re having a private conversation,” Ivy said crisply.
“I apologize for the intrusion.” Jude stood, and moved into the adjoining room, but he kept Ivy in his line of sight.
Amy frowned. “That was rude.”
“And what else is new? You’ve met me, right?”
“Yikes, you’re in a mood.” She was even grouchier than usual.
“Yeah, well, I’ve had a long day, and it’s not over yet. I got up at four, danced for two hours, worked at the café, and now I’m here.”
Like Amy, she had an insane schedule.
Ivy pulled her legs out of the trash can. The skin was red and raw, and her ankle was still swollen, even though she’d iced it.
“Hey, are you okay? Is it getting worse?”
“No, it’s the same. I’ve gotta get ready for my front-desk shift.” Ivy grabbed the can, and the dripping plastic bag, and limped to her room.
Something’s wrong.
Amy knew better than to go after her. Ivy would only push her away again.
Apparently, they were both in trouble.