All of Me (10 page)

She nodded and rose. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Faith printed off a form in Cole’s office and collected Ginny from the living room. She sat both Ginny and Alec at the kitchen table and handed Alec a pencil. She slid the book Ginny had just finished toward the waiting teenager.

“Ginny, Alec’s going to help you do your book report. Take all the time you need.” To Alec, she said, “Don’t take off if you get an idea. Let me know you’re leaving first.”

Faith didn’t look at Alec again when she left the room, because she was pretty sure the tears welling would spill if she did. Instead, she walked up the stairs to collect Ginny’s math book for later and allow a minute to collect herself.

“I thought maybe we could go over some wedding ideas.” Lacey’s eyes were rounded in excitement, and she clutched several bridal magazines to her chest.

Ginny bounced on her feet. “Can we? Can we?”

“Sure.” Faith let Lacey inside the front door and followed them into the living room.

She’d gone the whole of her life never being asked her opinion or advice, and now it seemed everyone wanted a piece of her. Part of her was grateful to be included. The other part warned how temporary this place and these people were. Eventually Ginny wouldn’t need a tutor and Faith would have to move on. The rest of them would remain close, as friends or family, but Faith was just a momentary person.

“I tagged some bridesmaid dresses. You can tell me what color you like, Ginny.”

“I’ll leave you guys alone for a bit.”

“No, stay. I want your opinion, too. Please,” Lacey urged when Faith hesitated.

“Shouldn’t you be doing this with Mia? Maybe you should wait until she gets back.” After all, they were sisters-in-law and friends. What did Faith know about this stuff?

“Oh, there’s plenty to do. But August will be here soon, and the dresses take the longest to order.”

“Okay,” she sighed, sitting on the couch next to her. Ginny flanked her other side.

For the next two hours, they went over colors and styles. Lacey decided to let Ginny and Mia pick out their own instead of going with matching dresses. Faith liked that idea, allowing them their own individuality.

Lacey wasn’t who Faith had expected. With the money and power the Covingtons had, Faith had anticipated a royal snob who ordered her minions around, like her former students and their families at St. Ambrose. Lacey wasn’t like that at all. She was warm and kind and funny in a subdued sort of way. She seemed to just be coming out of her shell after being under her mother’s thumb all those years, and just starting to figure out who she was as a person. Faith could relate to her random insecurities. In a way, they had a lot in common.

After going over tuxedo options—and Faith imagining how good Alec would look in one—Faith stood. Bea was off this week with Mia and Cole out of town, so she needed to get lunch started.

“Would you like to stay for lunch?”

“Oh, I can’t. I have to meet with the caterer while Jake takes his lunch break. Maybe some other time. We can go shopping?”

“Sure. I’d like that,” Faith said, surprised she meant it.

Lacey turned to Ginny with a smile. “I’ll see you for our sleepover party tomorrow night.”

“Yeah!”

When Lacey left, Faith made some quick sandwiches and a salad for her and Ginny, but after lunch the girl was restless and bursting with energy. Faith was just about crawling out
of her skin, too. She couldn’t pinpoint just what was wrong, except that Alec hadn’t been over in two days. The book report must’ve helped.

She smiled, pride welling inside that she’d been able to help him work through it. The lack of productivity had obviously bothered him.

Rubbing her forehead, she watched Ginny squirm in her seat and doing anything but her math problems. Math wasn’t Faith’s favorite, either.

“You know what, Ginny girl? Let’s quit for today.”

“Yeah!”

Faith grinned and closed the workbook with a snap. “Come on. Let’s go work the ants out.” She laughed at Ginny’s confusion. “Figure of speech. It’ll be fun. I promise.”

They headed into the living room where they went through the CD collection by the stereo. Ginny picked out a dance mix, which Faith set in the tray. A booming pop song mixed with a retro beat filled the room. Not her first choice, but Ginny loved it.

“Now what?” Ginny said.

“Now we dance.”

Since no one else was around to hear them, Faith turned the music to blasting and grabbed the girl’s hands. Ginny laughed and threw her head back, spinning and swaying. Faith picked up Ginny’s crazy rhythm and followed along.

*   *   *

Alec hadn’t slept more than four hours in two days, but hell if he’d ever felt better in his life. The words flowed. Chapter after chapter. Through the night, bleeding into the day. He was back. Sanity maintained.

Leaning back in his chair, he grinned and scrubbed his hands over his face. He should keep going, in case he lost this tangible thread, but his stomach rumbled and he was pretty sure he smelled.

He threw a frozen pizza into the oven and went to shower
while it baked. Thoughts scrambled for purchase in his head as he stood under the spray. Plots morphed and characters screamed. Grabbing a bar of soap, the manuscript played out in his head until the end while he lathered.

The book was not coming out exactly how he’d first charted it in his timeline. Instead, the female lead was quickly becoming the heroine. The Nightmare demon had kidnapped her, and her brother searched in vain, losing a bit of his own self along the way. But it was the girl who broke free and escaped, using her own hidden strength and wit. Alec was about halfway through the manuscript, about to reach the peak where everything crumbled to shit and Nightmare grew fierce with fury. This part of writing a book was always a rush like no other. The exact moment when he knew conflict collided with action and the reader would be glued to the page, hanging on to every word.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried off, dressed, and headed to the kitchen, head still in the story. He’d have to rework books two and three to accommodate this change. If he kept the childhood tie between the three female victims, he could keep the motive behind Nightmare’s desire for them. Instead of the brother saving them, though, Faith would do it.

Alec’s head reared back and the slice of pizza fell from his fingertips to the counter. Christ, he hadn’t even realized he’d been eating. Half the pepperoni pie was devoured.

Faith.

She’d wormed her way into his head, under his skin. He’d based his female lead off her physically and emotionally. Wavy brown hair and quizzically sad eyes. Quiet strength, brilliant mind. Because of her, he’d been writing again. And holy shit, it was the best book he’d ever punched out. Even not having finished yet, he knew. This story was different. Girl power. Danger. A little romance. Fear unlike anything in his previous series.

All due to Faith.

Jake was right. She was different than the others. Not a distraction, but a destination. Part of him wanted to grasp that shred of hope for a future, for something permanent and real. Try his hand at normal again. But that wasn’t possible and never would be.

Still . . . she stayed there, trapped in his mind as a maybe. As potential. Alec shook his head and tossed the leftover pizza in the fridge.

He absolutely shouldn’t go over there and see her. It wasn’t fair to Faith to ping-pong back and forth between brooding and flirting. So far, he’d kept himself in check. But if he kept drawing himself toward the temptation of her, he’d do nothing but tear apart her life the way he’d done to Laura. Faith was kind. She was devoted to helping others, and genuinely enjoyed it.

And for the love of God, what was it about her? What was the damn draw? She wasn’t a gorgeous supermodel with pouty lips. She didn’t even wear makeup most of the time. Her body didn’t sport curvy hips and a full chest. In fact, she was so damn wispy thin he could probably bench-press her with one arm. Half the time she didn’t seem to want him around. She’d brushed off that kiss instead of trying to rope him into a marriage proposal like every other woman he’d encountered.

So, yeah. What the hell?

Still worked up into a mild irritation, he lifted his hand to knock on the front door and froze. He sighed with dramatic flair into the humid afternoon heat. Whatever. So she was on his mind and he’d unconsciously walked over. It meant nothing.

Music boomed from inside the house, all but rattling the windows. That wasn’t like her. In fact, every time he’d popped by, the house had been quiet. She and Ginny were usually working on some lesson or baking something. They’d never hear the bell or a knock over this racket, though.

Testing the knob, he found the door unlocked. He strode
in and made his way toward the living room where the noise seemed to originate. What he found had his jaw dropping.

Ginny and Faith were . . . dancing. If you could call what they were doing dancing. Ginny was jumping up and down, bobbing her head to the beat. Faith had her arms up, swaying her hips. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks flushed. The blue top she wore rose up to show a patch of pale skin near her navel.

Damn it. Just when he thought he had her nailed, understood her a measurable amount, he walked in to find this.

“Hi, Alec!” Ginny called.

Faith squealed, grabbing her chest and nearly falling. She went to the stereo and killed the power, blessedly silencing the noise. Sweat trickled down her temple and dampened her hair, curling the tendrils. Her chest heaved, drawing his gaze there.

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

“No kidding.”

“We were just getting some energy out.”

He had some ideas on more pleasurable ways of doing that. “Did it work?”

Ginny giggled as if reading his mind.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way you can unsee that?” Faith asked, a half smile curving her lips. No, her lips weren’t pouty. They were thin and naturally a dark pink, the bottom lip slightly more full than the top.

“Not a chance.” In fact, a sudden vision of her sweating with flushed cheeks for an entirely different reason came to mind.

“I figured.” She wiped her brow with her forearm. “Ginny, why don’t you go change into your bathing suit? We’ll go for a quick swim.”

“Yeah!” She bounded past Alec and up the stairs.

Alec kept his attention on Faith—as if there was any other choice.

She fidgeted. “Stuck with the book again? Do you need help to get going?”

“No.”

Surprise had her brows lifting and those honey eyes widening. “Oh. Why are you here?”

Christ. As if the only reason someone would pay her a visit was because they needed something. Just who in her life had given her that theory? “I don’t know. To see you.”

Great. Honesty. So much for keeping her at arm’s length.

“Oh.” Again with the
oh.

“Go out with me tonight.”

The words were out of his mouth before his brain could warn him of the stupidity. Guess he had a lot of his dad in him after all. She was the type of woman a guy had to woo. Not the kind you met in a bar and had horizontal in under twenty minutes. He wondered if he even knew how to do this anymore. It had been a long, long time.

Her mouth opened and closed several times before he decided to clarify. Otherwise she’d think he meant anything but what he really intended. “I mean on a date, since I know you were wondering.”

“How do you know what I was thinking?”

“Call it a hunch,” he said dryly.

Her gaze darted to the window and back. “You said the kiss was a mistake.”

“Yes.”

“And that it made you feel like . . .” She waved her hand vaguely, as if not able to form the curse. He realized he hadn’t heard her swear before.

“Shit,” he finished on her behalf. “And I said I felt like shit for doing it, not that the kiss made me feel like shit. There’s a difference.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Forgive me, but I’m confused.”

“So am I.” He crossed his arms, wondering why in the hell he was pursuing this when she’d given him an out. “I
can’t stop thinking about you.” Like an irritating song. And so help him, if she said “oh,” he’d . . .

“I can’t leave Ginny alone.”

There. Another out. Perfect. They’d call it off and . . . why was his phone out of his pocket and why was he texting Jake?

Can u watch Ginny tonight? Taking Faith out.

Moments later the response came.

Jake: Lacey and I will be over by 6. Stay out all night.

He sighed in . . . relief? “Jake and Lacey will stay with Ginny. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

Ginny bounded down the stairs, a towel slung over her shoulder, as he made his way to the door.

“Wait. I didn’t say yes.”

God love her. He turned and grinned at her flustered face as she stood in the entryway. “You didn’t say no, either. Six-thirty, Faith.” He tapped the doorframe and left.

The seafood restaurant he’d found was nestled right on the tourist strip, close enough to the beach to smell the ocean. To avoid being crowded, he’d asked for a corner table out on the back deck. Faith hadn’t said much on the drive over or after they were seated. Oddly enough, the lack of conversation wasn’t tense. It was a comfortable silence he wasn’t used to. People tended to attempt to fill the quiet, as if something were wrong with just being.

He glanced at her over the menu, but her attention was on the people in the distance. Her plain white sundress hugged her chest and hips, flaring out in a skirt that stopped at her knees. She’d put her hair up in a loose knot and applied a minimal amount of makeup. Or Lacey had applied it for her, since his future sister-in-law had been at the guesthouse when he’d arrived to pick up Faith.

Whatever the subtle difference was, it made her eyes stand out. They took up most of her face as it was. The dusk was doing something to her skin, which appeared even softer than
usual. Her freckles were barely noticeable. Around her long, elegant neck was a chain, the one she never took off. The low dip of her dress allowed him to see the charm. Little silver wings. Just wings. Interesting.

When she smiled at a family with a couple of toddlers, he wondered how he’d ever thought her plain.

The waiter came and asked for a drink order.

“I haven’t even looked at the menu,” she said. “I’m sorry. Just water for me, please.”

“Do you drink wine?” He felt blind not knowing anything about her past or if she had any limitations from her medical condition.

“I could. I don’t know anything about wine, though.”

Okay, this he could handle. He gave the request for a sauvignon blanc from a California vineyard he recognized and waited until the waiter left before addressing her. She hadn’t wanted to talk about her past before, but they knew each other a little better now. He had the suspicion he’d need to tread carefully with Faith. Whatever led her to Wilmington didn’t appear to be altogether pleasant.

He glanced at the pendant. “Why the wings?”

Her gaze dropped, and with a reflex he’d seen often, she clutched the pendant and slid it back and forth on the chain. “I saw it in a jewelry store and it reminded me of my sister.”

The sister he wasn’t supposed to know about because Faith never mentioned her. Yet he’d seen the photo Lacey took. Saying something might ruin Lacey’s surprise painting or break Faith’s trust. “I thought you were an only child.”

Her small hand released the necklace as she looked away, smoothing her napkin over her lap. “She died several years ago from cancer.”

Platitudes never made the grieving feel better, so he didn’t offer one. “What was her name?”

“Hope.”

“Faith and Hope. That’s cute.” Finally, her honey gaze
returned to his, and the sorrow etched in her eyes was gutting. “Was she younger or older?”

“She was older by three and a half years.”

“Does this bother you? Talking about her?”

She appeared to mull that over for several moments, eventually shaking her head. The waiter arrived with their wine and they ordered their meal. Alec hoped the interruption wouldn’t break their conversation. Though hesitant, she was finally answering questions.

Alone once more, he asked, “What kind of cancer did she have?”

She cleared her throat. “A rare form of leukemia called myelogenous. It affects the white blood cells in bone marrow. Survival rates aren’t high with that kind of cancer. She was diagnosed at age two, but lived until she was twenty, and it was a blessing to have her that long, considering. There were periods where she didn’t require treatment, and we thought . . .” Her lids lowered in a slow blink.

His hand settled over hers on the table. “I’m sorry. We can talk about something else.”

“No, it’s fine.” Her gaze held his and she offered a weak smile. “Honestly, I don’t get to talk about Hope very often.”

“Why not?”

She stared down at their joined hands, where he rubbed small circles over the soft skin of her inner wrist. “My parents took her death very hard.”

Were there no friends? Other family? Certainly she had other people in her life. Then again, no one had dropped by since she’d moved, nor had she left to visit anyone.

“I’m not terribly close with my parents. Around the time Hope died, I went to college nearby, but didn’t live in the dorms. After I graduated, I stayed at home, thinking they needed me.”

He felt a
but
in there somewhere. What kind of parents didn’t want their kid around? Especially after losing another
so young. No way was Faith a problem child or a black sheep. If anything, she was the over-accommodating type. “Tell me about your sister. What was she like?”

The smile that split her face was genuine and hit him right in the center of his chest.

Removing her hand from his, she rested her chin in her palm and stared over his shoulder. “Everyone loved Hope. She was the life of any get-together. She was always smiling, making friends. It was hard not to love her. Even when she was sick, she’d find the strength to ask me about school or what happened in my day.” She sighed. “I miss that most. Someone asking how my day went.”

A hollow pang smacked his ribs and he stilled. Did she have no one? At all? He thought back to their scattered conversations and came up blank. No mention of anyone. Her sometimes socially awkward behavior and the shock whenever someone included her was starting to make sense. Faith wasn’t particularly shy or reserved or traditional. She wasn’t uncomfortable with attention. She’d just never had any. She sought acceptance.

Dear Christ. What the hell was he supposed to do with her? With this knowledge?

“How was your day?” he rasped.

Slowly, her gaze slid over to his, and damn if the sentiment in her eyes didn’t undo him. “It was pretty great, actually. Thank you.”

He nodded. Swallowed hard.

They sat in silence until the waiter brought their food. She ordered grilled salmon and steamed vegetables over brown rice. He looked down at his crab cakes and asparagus spears drowning in sauce.

She took a bite of her fish. “What about you? You don’t seem close with your parents, based on what you said the other day.”

“I’m very close with my mother and Jake. Dad’s just . . .”
He fumbled for the right word. “Weird, I guess. I get the feeling he’s disappointed in me. Regardless, I love them to death.”

The fork paused halfway to her mouth. “After all your success? I find it hard to believe he’s disappointed.”

He shrugged. “I made a lot of bad choices along the way. He built his landscaping business from nothing. Blue collar through and through. I don’t think he knew what to do with me, being the creative type.”

She pushed the food around her plate, avoiding eye contact. Once again, he was floored by her lack of inquisition. She didn’t ask, though he could tell she wanted to. For the first time in . . . well, ever, he wanted to talk. To have someone know what his life entailed and share his mistakes. Someone like Faith would understand, not judge.

“I can hear your unasked questions from over here.”

Her eyes smiled even though her mouth didn’t. “I wasn’t going to ask you anything. I was just thinking that you’re human. People make bad decisions all the time.”

Maybe she did get it, more than he would’ve guessed. “Why aren’t you asking me what mistakes I made?”

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip. She took a sip of wine before answering, choosing her words carefully. “A few days ago, you said you couldn’t do commitment. I’m assuming that hasn’t changed.” Her eyes lifted to his. “I figure you’ll tell me when and if you’re ready.”

“That’s it?”

She nodded, closed her eyes, then shook her head. “What are we doing here, Alec?”

“Eating. Some of us more than others.” He nodded to her plate, of which she had yet to take more than a few bites.

“Kissing me was a mistake. Your words, not mine.”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and crowding her. “I make my living by words, Faith. I repeat, it wasn’t a mistake. I said kissing you made me feel like shit.
Because of those choices mentioned earlier. But for the life of me, I can’t seem to stay away from you. Regardless of how bad an idea this is, and regardless of why I know I can’t.”

She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. I don’t want you to read too much into it or ask any questions.”

Her pleading gaze pinned him to his seat. Right then, he would’ve done whatever she asked. “I promise.”

“I’ve spent the majority of my life feeling unwanted. I made a promise to myself when I moved here that I would start over. If you can’t or won’t be honest with what you want, you should leave me alone. I’m out of my element as it is, Alec.”

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? The air in his lungs thinned as he stared at her, making breathing difficult. A thousand questions and arguments rolled through his head, but a promise was a promise. The blatant urge to protect her, to slay her dragons and lay claim, rose again. What kind of fucking monster had made her think she wasn’t wanted?

He should leave her alone, like she asked.

“Considering I’m a writer, you leave me strangely bereft of words.”

The waiter came and cleared their plates. They refused dessert. Alec paid the tab and offered her a walk down the tourist strip, more for his sake than hers—he needed to clear his head. She nodded her approval. They’d been walking for twenty minutes past the independent storefronts when she finally addressed him.

“Do you find me attractive?”

He stopped and turned to face her. This had to be a trick question. Some female ploy they all knew to confound men. “Yes.”

Even though it was dark, he could see the pink tingeing her cheeks. “And it’s not just because I’m helping you through your writer’s block?”

That was asinine. For her benefit, he thought it through. “No.”

She continued the walk as if she’d never spoken. He let her go a few steps before his brain caught up.

“Hold up.” Gently, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her flush against an ice-cream parlor to get out of the way of tourists. “What game are you playing?” Christ, she smelled better than the shop behind them.

“I don’t play games. I needed to know if your attraction had anything to do with me or if it was based on gratitude.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “They just don’t make them like you.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He opened his eyes and forced his gaze off her mouth and on her eyes. “Why did you need to know?”

She drew a breath, and the action caused her breasts to brush his chest. “I’ve never been in a serious relationship. I don’t know if I’m even capable. You’re guarded and hesitant to enter one. Let’s just see where this thing goes. No pressure. No guilt.”

Just when he thought she couldn’t throw him any more surprises, she blindsided him with a left hook. “You don’t seem the type for flings or one-night stands, Faith.” And really, that’s all he could offer.

“What about a summer romance? You’re going back to New York. I’m staying here. The relationship has an end date. You get your out clause and I get my adventure.”

“Adventure.” Is that what she wanted? Could it be as easy as that? It didn’t feel right. Deep in his gut, he knew Faith didn’t take relationships of any kind lightly.

Still, he wanted her.

“Fine,” he said with a nod. “Come on. I should get you home.”

Before his car turned back into a pumpkin.