— THREE —
THE next morning, Zander stared at his baby sister across her breakfast bar and shook his head. “What part of I came to your house to hide from people don’t you understand?”
Dani stared right back, completely unaffected by his bluster. “You don’t mean people, you mean Mom. And if you hadn’t taken two hours to drive from Tobermory to home last night, she wouldn’t be all up in your grill like that.”
He just blinked at her.
“I can’t pull that off, can I?”
“No. Leave the cool lingo to the kids and accept that you’re an old lady now.” He sighed. “Why can’t I stay here while you go to this barbeque?”
“Because Hope Creswell could be a good customer for your new business.”
“I already have client interviews lined up this week, and I’m not even opening shop for another six months. I don’t need new customers.”
“Of course you do. And good ones. You have the farm implement store and a bunch of Jake’s reno customers. Hope is a celebrity. She knows people who need bodyguards.”
“I’m not going to be a bodyguard. I’m starting a security firm to do something a bit better —”
“Than the basic install and monitoring package offered by the national chains. Blah blah blah. That sounds boring. You know what sounds fun? Being a bodyguard to a movie star. Also sounds like it might pay better and let you travel to more interesting places than the other side of Highway 6.”
He got off the bar stool and peered toward the stove. “Are you making me an omelette or lecturing me on my career choices?”
“Both?” She shrieked as he rounded the kitchen island. Grabbing her spatula, she waved it in his direction. “I’m warning you…”
He laughed. It was good to be home, especially hanging out with Dani like this. She’d been a kid when he left, and to see her as a grown woman, in her own home…even if she was a nosy Parker, he didn’t care.
Grabbing another spatula from the crock on the counter, he just shrugged. “I’ll finish it myself, then. Pass me the cheese.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t change the subject. You should come with us to the party.”
“You should get me some cheddar,” he said blandly, not rising to the challenge. “And I’ll think about it.”
“Think about what?” Dani’s fiancé, Jake Foster, wandered in and poured himself a cup of coffee before offering Zander his hand. “Hey, man.”
They shook while Dani filled Jake in on her crazy plans to introduce Zander to the new local celebrity. Jake just shrugged at him, like, “what are you going to do?”
Whipped. The man was whipped.
“I’m just going to eat this without cheese,” Zander muttered, edging the spatula under the almost-done eggs.
“Oh, shut up and stop whining about cheese when I’m just trying to help you,” Dani snapped, tossing the block of cheddar at his head with enough force to be concerning.
“Okay…thank you for your loving and gentle support?”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
He turned his attention back to Jake. “Are you seriously marrying this brat?”
Jake just grinned.
So whipped.
Zander turned back to making himself breakfast.
— —
No biggie, Faith told herself. She was just going to hang out with one of Hollywood’s most talented actresses. Hope Creswell was the peninsula’s newest resident, because she’d fallen in love with a local man, Ryan Howard, and his three young children.
Ryan’s family had been through an awful, traumatic year, and it felt like a miracle they’d found someone like Hope—who was known by her real name, Holly, to Ryan and the kids, because that’s how she’d first met them. When she’d arrived early to film a movie, Ryan had mistaken her for an intern, and she’d let him carry on with that assumption. She’d given him her real name instead of her stage name, although Faith still thought of her as Hope.
Faith didn’t know much more of the story than that. She was friendly with Ryan, who she’d met through her bereavement group, but as her mother had pointed out, she hadn’t gone out of her way to forge real friendships in the last four years.
Maybe she’d change that soon. That’s one of the reasons she’d torn herself away from the computer to come to this party, after all.
She took one last look at the driveway, lined with pickup trucks. Ryan had told her that Hope wanted to have his friends over for a casual barbeque, and it seemed like they’d all turned out. So, there you go. Lots of friend potential.
She was such a dork to be worried. She’d already met Hope once, had fangirled hard, and they’d still invited her.
Maybe it was the weird week getting to her. The stress of a deadline approaching, and she’d stayed up late the night before writing. Woken up early to do more of the same, too. It was a minor miracle she’d gotten showered and dressed and made her way to Pine Harbour on time.
But she hadn’t had time to talk herself through being normal.
She wasn’t prepared for this, and kind of wanted to go back home and keep writing about Zander.
You mean Deacon.
She shook her head. Really, she meant neither of them, but that wasn’t what kept spilling out of her fingers.
So she’d made a deal with herself. She’d indulge the flight of fancy inspired by the stranger at Greta’s Bakery, and then get back to the actual work of writing her series. The one that paid the bills and made her fans happy.
The front door of the house swung open, and Ryan almost stepped into her before he realized she was standing there.
“Faith!” He gave her a surprised smile. “Did you knock? We didn’t hear it.”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Everything okay?”
“Would you believe I was composing myself?”
He laughed. “Yes. Will it make you feel better if I tell you that Holly was stressed out about messing up the taco dip?”
“No!” Faith laughed.
“Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” He glanced around. “You didn’t bring Eric?”
Their kids had met twice at play dates over the summer, and Eric liked Maya and her brothers well enough. But when she’d asked her son if he’d wanted to come to the barbeque—where lots of people would be—he’d given her an alarmed look and insisted he had a Lego fortress to finish instead. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with that one. “Not tonight,” she said without elaborating.
“Ah, okay.” He stepped back, swinging the door wider so she could join him in the spacious, modern foyer.
Technically a cottage, the year-round house was more than big enough for Ryan and his kids to move in with Hope, but Faith knew they hadn’t officially made that step yet—their relationship was still new and Ryan, a widower who’d met Faith through the bereavement group she coordinated, was very protective of his children.
All in good time, he’d said. But the way that he and Hope loved each other, fiercely and just as protectively as they did the kids, she figured it would be sooner than later that they’d make their new family dynamic official.
Not for the first time, Faith reflected on the curious fact that she could see and support a new relationship as being best for Ryan, but not be ready for it yet herself.
She heard it every day from her mother, as well. She wasn’t sure what was holding her back, but she’d learned early in the days after Greg’s death to trust her gut, and right now, her instincts were telling her to wait.
Wait for the right guy, because life was too fragile to take risks.
“You remember Faith, sweetheart?” Ryan lifted his arm and his beautiful girlfriend folded herself into his side.
“Hi Faith,” Hope said with a twinkling grin. “Did Ryan tell you I bought one of your books?”
“No!” She didn’t care if her squeal was weird or high-pitched. “Wow, thank you!”
Hope winked. “I think you should brace yourself for this fangirling to becoming a mutual thing. It was awesome. I’ve packed the next two in the series for my next trip. I’m trying to pace myself, because I know it’ll be a while until book four comes out.”
Faith blushed. “I’m working on that right now, actually.”
Hope pressed her lips together in delight. “Seriously, I love Vera. She’s so kickass.”
They talked for another minute about Faith’s series, then their conversation turned to another popular urban fantasy series that they both had read, and how Faith’s series was similar (and different) to it.
Ryan waited until they were done, then gave them a bemused look. “Can I continue the introductions?”
“Yes, of course.” Hope lifted her hands. “Faith can come back another day when we don’t need to be social. Right?”
Was the Pope Catholic? Or Edward a vampire? Heck yeah, Faith would come back.
“Everyone else here is either Foster or a Minelli, and then there’s Dani, who’s going to be both in another month or so. She was my partner when I was a paramedic, and all of her brothers and the Foster guys have been…” Ryan shrugged. “They’re like a second family to me. There’s Rafe and Olivia, Jake and Dani…”
Faith was nodding, and trying to remember names as people around the room waved at her, but something that Ryan said was niggling at the back of her mind.
Then they turned toward the staircase and her gaze collided with a newly familiar set of dark eyes looking at her over the rim of a beer bottle. Zander tipped the bottle up an inch in a private greeting, his eyebrows lifting just enough to tell her he was surprised to see her here, too.
Deep inside her belly, her lady parts started doing a burlesque dance.
Her brain, though, had a completely different reaction. That niggle in her mind turned into unexpected panic.
This is why you’ve got a no men rule, she told herself. Because the second you let yourself have a safe, secret night of flirting, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome turns out to be the complete opposite of a stranger, just driving through.
Which she’d realized the night before, but not to this extent.
Zander Minelli wasn’t just visiting family in Pine Harbour. Her brain whirred through the connections. She knew of the Fosters, everyone did. You couldn’t drive through a local festival without seeing something sponsored by Foster Construction.
The dark eyes burning a hole through the space between them belonged to a man deeply connected to her safe space—this peninsula where she’d built a sphere of solitude around herself and her son.
Not under any circumstances could her lady parts dictate what happened with him. No, her brain was in charge, and her brain wasn’t interested.
Much.
Except for all the ways he fascinated her, of course.
Sigh. This would require a double-dose of serious denial.
“…and this is Tom Minelli,” Ryan continued. Faith didn’t blink until her view of Zander was obstructed by someone else. A man.
“Tom,” she repeated, smiling belatedly when she realized she was acting like a space cadet. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” the handsome, younger, less-tattooed version of Zander said. He pointed to the large, open kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure,” she murmured, still hopelessly distracted by his brother’s gaze. “Coke or water would be great. I’m driving, and not staying too long.”
Tom stepped a hair closer. Not too close. But…flirting close. “That’s a shame,” he said, and when she blinked and really looked at him, his eyes were warm and dancing. “I’ll be right back with something cold for you.”
As Tom shifted out of the way, Ryan finally started the introduction she’d been bracing herself for the last ninety seconds. “And visiting from out west, our returning soldier. Zander, this is Faith Davidson.”
He stood, stretching himself to his full height and impressive breadth. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at her. His eyelids slid to half-mast, covering his glittering dark eyes but she could still feel the full weight of his appraisal. Then he slowly hitched his shoulders and reached out, offering her his right hand.
“Nice to meet you, Faith.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she slid her fingers against his, hyper-aware of every muscle in his hand as their palms lined up and his grip closed around hers.
These were hands that could strip a rifle in the dark and dig endless trenches. Probably climb tall buildings, too. And still he held her fingers with gentle ease.
The lines on his face deepened as he smiled slightly, and as her breath rushed out of her body, she realized he’d let go of her hand.
She missed the feel of his skin—rough in places and warm all over.
No, shrieked her brain.
Wow, said everything else.
“Shit,” Faith muttered under her breath before catching herself. Zander laughed quietly as she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes up at him. “Soldier you say? Interesting. Nice to meet you, too.”
“Interesting. I’m going to take that as a compliment.” His voice had a very distracting rub of amusement to it and she ducked her head to hide a blush.
“Here’s a Coke,” Tom said at her elbow, appearing out of nowhere. Zander reached out and took the glass from his brother and handed it to Faith.
She couldn’t hold back a laugh.
Really?
Tom apparently had the same question, but he said it out loud.
Making a murmured excuse as her heart skipped traitorously, she left the siblings to their stare-down and escaped to the kitchen. She found the previously mentioned taco dip—delicious—and soon fell into a conversation between Jake Foster and one of his brothers about some of the renovations Holly wanted done on the place.
The whole time, she felt Zander’s gaze on her. Warmth wrapped around her and her cheeks stayed permanently flushed as she moved through the party.
What had she fallen into?
And how long until the tall, dark, handsome not-so-much-a-stranger left the peninsula and life returned to normal?
After making a round of the room, surprised at how many people recognized her, she found herself standing with Hope again. They were talking to Olivia Minelli, who’d recently started working with the movie star as her assistant. Listening to them talk about work was fascinating and not that different from her own writing world, although on a very different scale.
A soccer balled zinged out of nowhere and bounced off Hope’s leg. She grabbed it and gave Gavin, Ryan’s middle kid, a gently scolding look.
“Sorry Holly,” he said, and she pulled him in for a quick hug.
It was a sweet moment that made Faith’s chest ache.
“Come on, outside with this,” Hope said, guiding him to the back door.
Olivia snorted as soon as her boss was out of hearing range. “No way will I be that chill about a ball inside the house.”
“I’ve got a little boy,” Faith said, shrugging her shoulders. “Sometimes you lose your mind. Sometimes it’s not a big deal.”
“How old is he?”
“He’ll be five in October.” Faith glanced at Olivia’s obviously pregnant belly, rounding out the middle of a ruched maternity shirt. But you still didn’t ask that question. “Do you have kids?”
Olivia patted her bump. “First one. A girl, due in November.”
They talked more about pregnancy and midwives, sleep and sciatica pain and cravings, but Faith’s attention kept drifting out the window to watch Hope, who’d joined Ryan and the kids in a game of pick-up soccer.
“They’re so happy, eh?”
Olivia sighed. “Disgustingly so. It feels like she’s been here forever, not just a couple months. But she’s so good for all of them.”
“And you like working for Hope—I mean, Holly?”
“I call her Hope, too, it’s okay. I think it’s easier for her, you know? To be Hope all the time with most people.”
Faith suddenly felt awkward. She’d been a fan of Hope’s for years online, and had participated in many conversations about the private star. Theories about her personal life, etcetera. Nothing like seeing the celebrity play soccer with her boyfriend’s children to be reminded that her private life was just that—private, and her own. “It makes sense,” she said so quietly it was probably a whisper. “They’re her safe harbour. The rest of the world always requires her to be on, right?”
“Yeah.” Olivia caught her gaze and smiled. “Do you have anything like that as an author?”
Faith shook her head. “Not really. The only expectation my fans have from me is that I don’t kill their favourite characters.”
Olivia giggled. “Which is fine if you don’t have homicidal tendencies.”
“Right?” Faith sighed dramatically. “The challenge is real.”
As they dissolved into laughter, Faith felt Zander’s gaze turn toward her again, like her laugh had grabbed him from across the room. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She needed some air.
“Will you excuse me?” She smiled at Olivia. “I’m going to check out the soccer game.”
“Of course.” The other woman gave her a look. It said, brace yourself. “We should do this again. Without people around.”
“That’s what Hope said.”
“She’s smart.”
“I’m on deadline right now, but as soon as this book is done, I’m all over a tea party.”
“Awesome.” Olivia winked at her as Faith moved toward the back door.
On the deck, she found Ryan refilling the coolers with bags of ice. “Having fun?” he called to her.
“Actually, yes.”
He laughed. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“Ahhh.” She waved her hand. “It’s just that I’m in writing mode right now, so conversation is a challenge. I’m always drifting away. I’m going to head home soon, but I wanted to thank you for the invite. It was great to meet some of your friends.”
“You and Eric are welcome any time. Either here or at my place. He could play road hockey with my boys and we could talk.”
She snorted. She didn’t know what was funnier—the idea of her serious little boy playing road hockey or Ryan willingly talking about anything.
“Talk about you, I mean,” he added, reading her mind.
“Oh. Me.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and looked out over the lovely, long expanse of lawn behind the house. “This is a great place.”
“Smooth change of subject,” he said wryly.
“Sorry, I left my social savvy at home, clearly.” She sighed. “Go play soccer. Maybe I just need some fresh air.”
“I think you’re savvier than you give yourself credit for.” He patted her on the shoulder and jogged down the stairs from the deck to the grass, catching up to his kids and his girlfriend.
She couldn’t even really blame her current mood on writing, which did make her a bit absent-minded, maybe.
Crazy-sexy soldiers who looked like sin and rode motorcycles without a care in the world…they messed her up. Big time.
Especially when one in particular was under her skin and all around her—literally.
Zander’s boot steps on the deck behind her were the first clue she wasn’t alone.
The butterflies taking flight in her stomach were the second.
She turned to look at him and smiled, which she told herself was being polite but she really knew was because she couldn’t help herself. “Hi.”
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Yeah. The peninsula is a small world sometimes.”
“I’ve forgotten that over the years.”
“How long have you been gone?”
“Almost twenty years. I come back a fair bit to visit, but it’s not the same.”
She nodded.
“How about you? I don’t remember you growing up, but you might be younger than me.”
Ha. “Might be.”
He winked. “I’m not asking.”
“I’m thirty-five. But no, I’m not from around here. I grew up outside of Toronto. Moved here seven years ago for the outdoor lifestyle and never looked back.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve gone hiking around here. Maybe you could show me your favourite trail?”
She resisted a glance to his mid-section, where her suddenly hormone-addled brain remembered a glimpse of a trail of dark curls that led right from his navel to his belt, and below.
What was wrong with her?
This needed to stop. Dragging a deep, shaky breath into her lungs, she held it for a minute before exhaling and crossing her arms. “You seem like a great guy, Zander.”
He laughed and rubbed his jaw and up onto his cheek, then stopped and looked at her over his hand. “Huh.”
“What?”
“I’d always wondered what the nice-guy brush-off felt like.”
“I’m not…” No, that’s exactly what she was doing. She blushed. “Well, you do seem like a great guy.”
“But you’re not interested in grabbing a coffee or something.”
“I like coffee. It’s the or something I can’t do. And even if I could, I don’t think I can handle what that would entail with someone like you.”
A faint muscle twitched in his cheek and his eyes widened just a touch. Just enough to tell her he wanted to say something—that he had a snappy comeback and was fighting back the urge to let it fly.
Deep inside, a part of her moaned at the loss of whatever dirty/funny/snappy thing was on the tip of his tongue. She kicked that fickle woman in the shins and crossed her arms. “I’m just one of those annoying people who has standards.”
This time he couldn’t fight the eyebrow lift. Maybe he didn’t even try. “Standards? And I don’t meet them?”
Shit, shit, sugar tits. “That didn’t come out the right way.”
He grinned. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Why aren’t you offended?”
“Oldest of four, nineteen years in the infantry. Being told I’m not good enough yet is par for the course.”
“Yet? I didn’t say yet.”
His grin just got wider. “Sure.”
“And I didn’t say you weren’t good enough. I said I have standards. Maybe you’ve never gotten the nice-guy brush-off because you’re not a nice guy.” She narrowed her eyes to deliver the next line, but her words didn’t carry much heat and they both knew it. “I’ve heard they take no for an answer.”
“Are you telling me no, Faith?”
Her chest tightened. Sure she was. Definitely. She’d just open her mouth and that simple, single syllable would spill right out. “I’m telling you my life is complicated.”
“That’s not no.”
She couldn’t do this. She shook her head and took a step back. “I should get back inside. And then home.”
Understanding flickered in his dark eyes and he rocked back on his heels, his lower lip pulling tight between his teeth as he nodded at her. “You’ve got someone waiting for you there?”
It wasn’t right to let him think that, but the truth was, she did. Her little man might be a hundred and fifty pounds lighter than Zander and three feet shorter, but he still owned her entire heart.
What about the rest of you? She shoved that question out of her mind. The rest of her didn’t need what Zander was offering, either.
“I do.” She gave him a regretful smile. “I’m sorry.”
“That makes two of us,” he said gruffly. If he was upset with her, she’d understand, but he just gave her a look that was way more complicated than single injured pride. “See you around, Faith.”
— —
Zander watched as Faith ducked back into the house, then grabbed another beer for himself and one for his host from the cooler and wandered out across the back lawn to where Ryan was playing soccer with his kids.
He hadn’t seen Faith’s admission coming. She didn’t wear a wedding band, although that didn’t mean anything. But the night before she’d definitely been interested. Not in a hook-up kind of way—he wasn’t deluded enough to think she’d be game for something like that—but in a simpler way.
He’d recognized in her the same loneliness he felt inside. No way did she have someone treating her right.
It wasn’t his problem, but fuck, he wanted it to be.
“Hey man,” Ryan gave him a fist bump as he handed over the bottle. “Did I see you talking to Faith there?”
“Yeah.” Zander took a long pull of beer.
Ryan frowned and looked down at the ground. “Look, I’m the last person to give relationship advice, because I never want any myself, but…tread gently.”
“It’s okay. She already told me she’s off-limits.”
“I wouldn’t say that. But hey, maybe I misread her interest in you.”
“You didn’t misread anything. We met last night…it’s a long story. How else would you say it if she’s not off-limits?”
“Faith?” Ryan gave him a long, hard look. “She’s got standards.”
Jesus, was he wearing a Loser sign? “Yeah, she mentioned that. I’m more interested in the fact that whoever she’s got at home isn’t doing right by her, because she’s a gorgeous, fascinating woman who seems far too lonely.”
“Got at home?” Ryan squinted at the house. “Did she say that?”
“Yeah.”
“The only guy she’s got at home is in kindergarten. Faith and I met through a bereaved parents group. She’s a widow, and to the best of my knowledge, she hasn’t started dating again.”
Shit.
He replayed their conversation in his head as they kicked the ball back and forth with Ryan’s kids. He’d given her the excuse that she knew would end the conversation.
He needed to back off. She wasn’t interested.
No, she wasn’t ready. She was definitely interested—she just wasn’t happy about it.
He didn’t know what to do about that. Chasing her out to her car wasn’t the answer. But he had a week, and aside from work and a few family dinners, nothing else to do.
At some point, he’d find a way to see Faith again, and they’d try that conversation again.