Faithless Angel (11 page)

“Forgot?”

“I haven’t had them in a while.”

“Why?”

He seemed at a loss. His jaws stopped working at the cake for a full second, his expression guarded, careful, as if he were hiding something. Finally, he swallowed. “A diet,” he muttered. He took another bite of the cupcake. “No sweets. Have to keep the old bod in shape.” He patted his flat stomach, finished off the cupcake, and busied himself pulling another out of the package. “You know what they say,” he told her with a sheepish grin. “Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“I thought it was absence.”

“That, too.” He bit into his second cupcake. Pleasure glittered hot and bright in his eyes. She’d never
seen someone enjoy something quite so much.

“My kid sister used to bake a lot,” he said, as if he read the question in her eyes. “She started off with an Easy Bake oven when she was about nine. By the time she hit thirteen, she’d graduated to the real thing.” He turned to finish unloading the grocery sack on the table. “She didn’t make cupcakes, but she made lots of real cakes—all chocolate. She loved anything chocolate, especially brownies. She could whip up the best fudge brownies in the entire world.”

“You miss her a lot, don’t you?” Faith scooted past Jesse to put a loaf of bread in the bread box. Anything to keep from watching his mouth work at the chocolate cupcake.

“Yeah.” The word was gruff, a wealth of feeling behind the one syllable. She couldn’t help but get the distinct impression that it was an admission Jesse Savage didn’t make very often.

“You never did tell me what happened.”

He averted his gaze and unwrapped another cupcake. “It doesn’t matter. She’s gone, and my brother, too.” Silence settled around them as he leaned against the counter. “I never was much for baking, myself, but she always had something in the oven. The kitchen always smelled so sugary and warm….” He shook his head, as if to shake away the sudden memory.

Faith closed her eyes to her own vision—a drawerful of Hershey’s kisses and a young girl with dark hair and dark eyes, popping chocolate into her mouth while doing a particularly difficult math problem.

“What about you?” Jesse’s voice pulled her back to the present. “Do you like sweets?” She nodded
and he grinned. “That figures.” He held out a bite to her. “Sweets for the sweet?”

She opened her mouth and let him feed her the small morsel. His fingertip trailed over her lip, and every nerve in her body went on full alert.

Their gazes locked for the space of several heartbeats before Faith managed to close her mouth. Then he reached out and wiped a smudge of cream from the corner of her upper lip. Electricity shimmered through her body.

“The inside’s the best part.” He slid his fingertip into his own mouth and sucked the dab of cream. The air stalled in Faith’s lungs.

Her mind replayed last night’s kiss and it was all she could do not to take his finger, slide it into her own mouth, taste the lingering cream and bitter-sweetness of delicious male skin.
Him
.

The forbidden thought sang through her head, and she actually felt herself lean forward, just a fraction of an inch. He was so close, the scent of chocolate and raw male like an aphrodisiac to her vulnerable senses.

“I’d better get to work on that screen.”

He turned before she could form a reply and disappeared into the living room. Minutes later, she heard him outside working at the front screen, and she was left to wonder what had just happened between them.

Nothing
, her brain cried out, but her hormones said otherwise. Something had indeed happened. Jesse had retreated. She’d seen the want in his eyes; then for whatever reason, he’d resisted his feelings, and her.

Grubby barked and Faith gathered her control. So he had no intention of kissing her again. So what? At least she’d felt that moment of contact last night,
his body pressing against hers, desire rippling through her. She would savor the memory and chalk it up to experience.

If only she didn’t feel so connected to him. When she looked into his eyes, those familiar brown eyes, it was almost as if she’d loved him in the past.

Whoa, wait a second. Love? She’d never met Jesse Savage, much less loved him. He was handsome and kind, and she was vulnerable. That explained everything. And nothing.

But Faith didn’t care about explanations. She cared only about getting her life back together. She forced Jesse from her thoughts and concentrated on putting up the rest of the groceries. After that, she would tackle the mess in the living room, then scrub the bathroom. That should keep her busy.

Jesse Savage and his kiss were history.

If only she could manage to completely forget that he was only mere feet away. The awareness stayed with her, followed her through each chore, driving her to scrub and polish until her arms ached as badly as her reawakened hormones. Worse, even …

Nah
.

“The screen’s fixed,” Jesse announced an hour later as he opened the front door.

“Not soon enough,” Faith muttered to herself. She sat on the sofa, sipping a diet soda, Grubby curled up in her lap.

“What did you say?”

She forced a smile. “I said it must have been rough.”

“You’re not kidding. The screen was torn, but the frame was nearly glued in place. I had to pry the thing off with a crowbar.” Jesse set the toolbox he’d retrieved from Faith’s garage just inside the front door and stepped into the room. His large form blocked her line of vision, the window at his back. Sunlight haloed him, a brilliant white surrounding a dark, mysterious shadow.

For the space of a heartbeat, the light grew in brilliance and Faith blinked against the onslaught.
Then the light faded just enough for her to make out his features—the serious set of his jaw, the intensity of his dark brown eyes with speckles of stardust in them. Stardust that gleamed and sparkled and burned so hot whenever he looked at her. Heat skimmed across her skin, stroking and soothing and—

“If you’re not doing anything this afternoon”—Jesse’s voice rumbled through her head, killing her thoughts—“why don’t you come back to Faith’s House with me?”

She shook her head and sipped her soda. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

“It would be a great idea. The kids really miss you, and Bradley’s this close to going over the edge.”

“Bradley likes the edge. He comes from a long line of litigators. Stress and Danger are his middle names.” Her attempt at humor fell short. Jesse simply stared at her, into her, and silence wrapped around them.

She concentrated on rubbing the back of Grubby’s ears. Instead of licking his appreciation, he snuggled more deeply into her lap, his belly full after a can of dog food.

The ungrateful ball of fluff. Where was an appreciative wag when she needed one?

“I know about Jane.” Jesse’s words brought her gaze up to collide with his. She saw the pain, open and raw in his eyes. His pain. Her pain.

“I know what it’s like,” he added. “Remember, I lost my brother and sister not very long ago.”

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she forced her gaze away and shifted Grubby. He didn’t so much as open his eyes.

“Sitting here by yourself isn’t going to make the hurt go away,” Jesse went on. “You need to get on with things, Faith.”

She gave the puppy a little shake. His eyes opened, then drifted shut just as quickly.

“Faith.” Jesse knelt beside her. His fingers touched her jaw, forced her gaze to meet his. “It doesn’t mean you’re forgetting her. She still lives inside you.” He tapped his chest. “In here. You keep living and so does she. Inside.”

He was right. She knew it. Deep down, beneath all the hurt and fear, she knew it. The realization was like opening a strange door, not knowing what lurked on the other side.

The door creaked open. But there was no living and breathing monster of grief waiting to rip her apart, devour her heart. He’d already attacked last night, and the only thing that waited for her now was peace, a cool, soothing peace to salve her wounds.

Faith closed her eyes against the sudden tears of relief.

“Remember that.” His voice was soft, soothing. The pad of one finger caught a tear near the corner of her eye. “Okay?”

She nodded and his hand fell away. A strange sense of desolation swept through her.

“So what do you say?” he asked. “Come with me?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. I’ve got plans.”

“Like what?”

“I’m watering my plants.”

“That takes about twenty minutes.”

“They’re really dirty.”

“Funny.”

“You go on without me, Jesse.” The teasing was gone, her voice quiet now, serious, her gaze pleading.

He shook his head. “I can’t.” The words were a low murmur, laced with desperation, and Faith got
the inexplicable feeling again that she knew him from somewhere.

“There’s just something about you….” She stared at him, studying his features, her mind rifling through the past for some clue. “Who are you?”

His gaze met hers. “You know who I am.”

“Yes, but I don’t know why you seem so familiar to me. It’s almost like I’ve met you before.”

“You haven’t.” He averted his gaze, fixing his attention on Grubby. Long, lean fingers massaged the back of the puppy’s ears, so soft, soothing, and Faith’s mind traveled back, to a dark room at Faith’s house in the dead of night, and a teenage girl curled against her….

“I try to remember,” the girl’s small voice whispered. “But when I try, the nightmares come. I hear the screams, feel the pain, but I can’t see anything. I can’t see anyone!”

The girl’s tears flowed unchecked, splashing onto Faith’s arm, which was anchored about her, and something seeped into the crevices of Faith’s heart. As she did every night when the nightmares came and the screams started, she settled herself firmly on Jane’s bed and held her. Tight. Then she watched the play of shadows as moonlight winked outside the window, and she stroked the girl’s soft, shiny hair
.

“I used to be afraid,” Faith said, reliving her own past, her own battle with the darkness. “Just like you. When my parents died, I thought I’d died, too. I couldn’t imagine never seeing them again. Each day, it hurt to wake up knowing they wouldn’t be there. And it hurt to go to sleep, knowing they would be. Knowing I would see them but never really touch them again. God, it hurt so much.”

“That’s what I’m feeling,” came the small voice.
“My chest hurts almost as bad as my head. There’s somebody I miss. I know it, I just can’t seem to picture them.”

“You will,” Faith whispered, hugging the girl closer when her thin body shuddered. “Just give yourself time.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then we’ll make new memories for you to have, to fill up the empty spaces inside. Don’t concentrate on trying to see a face; just focus on what you feel. The loss means love, Jane. You had a family, someone you loved dearly, and they loved you. Even though they’re gone from your life, what you felt for them, and what they felt for you, lives on inside of you, in spite of your failed memory.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. They might be gone, but their love lives on inside you. You keep living, waking up, and so do they. That’s why you have to keep going. For yourself, and for them.”

Grubby’s faint whimper jerked Faith back to the present. She stared down to see Jesse’s tense fingers, the knuckles rigid, nearly white, paused atop the dog’s head.

Her gaze lifted to meet his and they simply sat there for a long moment, Faith trying to read the expression in the depths of his eyes and Jesse … She didn’t know why he stared at her. It was as if he already saw deep inside, into her thoughts, his gaze probing and delving until nothing remained a secret.

Grubby gave another whimper, obviously none too pleased that Jesse had stopped his stroking. The sound shattered the breathy silence surrounding them.

“He’s spoiled,” she remarked, tearing her attention from Jesse to focus on Grubby’s wriggling form.

Jesse gave a comforting pat to the puppy’s head, then withdrew his hand. “You’re a born nurturer.”

She smiled, a sad curve to her lips. “I used to be.” Sad? That fact shouldn’t make her sad. It was her nurturing that had gotten her into this mess. This hurt.

“You still are, Faith. You’re just doing a damned fine job of pretending otherwise.”

“I didn’t know psychoanalysis was your area of expertise. Or is that just a part-time hobby like the home repair?”

He smiled, a slow tilt to his sensuous lips that sent her heartbeat into overdrive. “You’ll go back to the kids eventually,” he said with dead certainty. “You know that, so why put it off? You can’t hide forever.”

She could try, she thought. She wouldn’t hurt the way she’d hurt for Jane ever again, and that meant keeping her distance from the kids. She couldn’t care again. Not like that.

Never again.

It was as if he read the thought as it rooted in her mind. His expression hardened. Anger turned his eyes a deep, bottomless obsidian that would have been frightening if he hadn’t been so close. So warm.

This time she reached out. Her fingertips touched his jaw, traced the strong curve, and his features softened. “I’m not going back. I can’t.”

They stared at each other then, and again Faith had the feeling that he wanted to kiss her.

If only he would. It had been so sweet last night. So consuming. So electrifying. So …

“I’d better get going.” He stood up and stared
down at her. “I told Bradley I would help with Ricky’s schoolwork this afternoon.”

She came so close to reaching for him. Instead she balled her fists, took a deep breath, and tried to steady her pounding heart. She was stupid.

And desperate.

And lonely.

The three didn’t make for a very good combination.

“If you’re doing math, make sure you keep his hands on the table,” she said when he reached the front door.

He halted, hand on the doorknob. “Why?”

“He counts on his fingers if you give him half a chance. He can do it up here”—she tapped her forehead—“when he wants to, especially if you have Emily ride shotgun with you. He likes to impress her.”