Faithless Angel (17 page)

“And you beat him.”

“Exactly. Of course, he thought no girl could beat him, so he gladly played a winner-take-all last game.”

“I assume he stopped ditching school.”

“He’s rough, but he keeps his word. He had perfect attendance last year because I suckered him, just like you’re suckering me.”

“Are you playing or not?” He motioned to her cards.

With a smile, she picked them up. “You’re on.”

Why?

The question pounded through her head but she refused to think about it. Maybe she was just tired of being cooped up in the house. Maybe she didn’t want to watch Jesse walk out the door in ten or fifteen minutes. Maybe she wanted to see the kids and this was her only way of doing it without violating her self-made promise to stay away. Maybe all three.

Not that it mattered.

The only thing that mattered was the terrible hand Jesse dealt her and the look of victory as he laid down a full house.

“I win.” He pulled her to her feet and stared down at her. “Now go put on your dancing shoes. We’ve got a date.”

This was
not
a date, Jesse reminded himself as he stood in front of Faith’s house and stared at the woman who appeared in the doorway.

She wore a loose-fitting pink and green sundress that fell to midcalf and covered a hell of a lot more than it showed. The material was soft, flowing over curves and dips to merely hint at what lay beneath.
His gaze swept her once, twice. No, it wasn’t a date dress. No plunging neckline or tight bodice or short hem. The only thing that even whispered
date
was the lack of sleeves. He had a tantalizing view of tanned shoulders and arms that sent an ache straight to his—

Wait a second. Arms? He was getting turned on by the sight of her
arms?
He was definitely hard up, and this was not, repeat,
not
a date. With that thought firmly in mind, he busied himself straddling the motorcycle and starting the engine.

“This is great,” Faith said, bunching her skirt between her legs and climbing behind him. “I’ve always wanted to ride one of these things.” Her knees nudged the backs of his and she wrapped her arms around him.

He gunned the engine and sent them bolting out of the driveway. The air rushed at him, but it did little to cool the heat inside him. Not with Faith pressed so tightly against his back, her thighs flanking his.

The three blocks to the community center passed painfully slowly, yet too damned fast at the same time. He wanted to feel her, yet he didn’t, his emotions a constant seesaw where Faith was concerned.

But distance had to win out, because Faith was just a means to an end. Business, he told himself as he swerved into the community center’s parking lot and killed the engine.

The Heart of Houston Community Center was a converted warehouse about the size of a school gymnasium not far from the local junior high and high school where most of Faith’s kids, except for the youngest, attended school. The center served as an after-school hangout for the neighborhood kids, as well as a haven for them when things got too
rough at home. There was a center director on duty at all times, and every other month the center and a few of the local teen shelters and group foster homes, such as Faith’s House, got together to organize a dance for the kids.

Lights blazed in the windows, and the walls vibrated with the rhythm of a rap song blaring from the speakers as Faith and Jesse crossed the parking lot.

“The place looks really crowded tonight.”

Faith’s soft voice drew Jesse’s attention, and he noted the trembling of her lips. A shiver rolled through him, part fear, part anxiety, and part restless anticipation. He realized as he followed Faith to the double doors that they were her feelings coursing through him, and he couldn’t help but reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Inside, streamers were draped from the basketball hoops and the darkened light fixtures. Swirls of colored lights flashed with the beat of the DJ’s music, illuminating a swarm of teenagers. Some were dancing in the middle of the floor; others stood on the sidelines talking or drinking punch.

No one paid too much attention as Faith slid into a darkened corner of the bleachers.

“Don’t you want to say hello?” Jesse motioned past a cluster of kids to Bradley, who manned a refreshment table with a handful of other adults.

“Maybe later,” she said. “I think I’d like to just sit here for a while.” They both watched as Bradley ladled punch and sniffed every cup. “Someone always tries to spike the punch,” Faith explained at Jesse’s puzzled glance. A smile tugged at her lips. “Bradley’s a stickler when it comes to seeing that the kids stay sober. I think they try to spike the drinks, not to get
drunk, but just to see him go through the ritual.”

Jesse smiled, but the expression died as Faith’s nervousness washed over him. She worried her bottom lip, held her arms about herself, and stared at the sea of kids.

“I hate to leave you sitting here, but I need to report for duty.” At that moment, a fast song blared from the speakers and someone upped the volume. “Will you be all right?” Jesse tried to shout over the increased noise level.

“What?”

“I asked”—he leaned down, his lips grazing her ear—“if you’ll be all right.” The fragrance of roses filled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply.

“I’ll be fine,” she whispered.

He didn’t actually hear her voice, though he saw her lips move. Still, the words were there in his head, as vivid and intoxicating as her scent.

Focus
, his mind screamed, and he jerked away.

“What’s wrong?” she mouthed.

He motioned to Bradley. “I’ll check on you later,” he shouted, and she nodded.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. She looked too uneasy, too skittish.

He leaned back down to the warm shell of her ear and the delicious scent. “You’re not planning to slip out the back door, are you?”

She turned toward him, her lips grazing his jaw. They were so close, the shadows of the bleachers swirling around them, wrapping them in a private cocoon. Just a quarter of an inch and he could kiss her, taste her.

“You won the bet,” she said, her eyes fixed on his. “I’m not going anywhere until you finish.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He must have looked doubtful because she nudged his arm, the motion shattering the strange spell that had wrapped around them.

“You’re here to keep an eye on the kids, not me,” she said, motioning him away. Bradley sniffed a cup of punch and made a face. Then he hefted the punch bowl into his arms and headed for the kitchen. “He needs you more than me,” Faith said, laughter in her voice.

Liar
. The moment the thought flitted through his head, her gaze jerked up to collide with his. Questions swirled in her eyes, and Jesse damned himself for the slip. He could feel her, so the reverse was also true. But Jesse knew about the connection and he’d spent years guarding his emotions, holding back; Faith had felt little from his end so far. If she had felt anything, undoubtedly she’d have thought it was her imagination. What they shared was unbelievable. Impossible. At least, it must be from her point of view.

“Stay put,” he said and turned away, before he could slip again.

He spent the next two hours inspecting punch, flashing a high-powered flashlight into makeout corners to send the kids scattering, and keeping an eye on Faith.

As deep in the shadows as she was, no one even knew she was there. She watched from the most remote corner, smiling every now and then, especially when Ricky finally worked up the nerve to ask Emily to slow dance.

The sight of Faith, sad yet happy at the same time, tugged at something inside of Jesse. She’d
wanted
to come tonight. He knew it, yet her fear still kept her from really enjoying herself. From joining in
and abandoning her spot on those damned bleachers.

But he meant to change all that.

“Let’s dance,” he told her when a slow song started up and he managed to find someone to man the flashlight.

She shook her head.

“Don’t you know how?”

She shrugged. “Mr. Wells—he was my guardian after my parents died—didn’t let me date until I turned eighteen, and by then I had my hands full with college classes and volunteer work.”

“You’ve never been out dancing with a man before?”

“Sure I have. I can do a mean limbo—Ricky taught me how at the neighborhood luau last year—and there were plenty of men in line in front of me, and behind.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He grasped her hand, her fingers so small and warm in his. “I’m talking man to woman, body to body, couple dancing. Come on.” Before she could shake her head, he hauled her upright and led her from the shadows, down the bleacher steps, toward the floor.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea. What if I step on your feet?”

“It’s a great idea, and I doubt you could do much damage.”

“This isn’t the kind of music I’m used to—”

“Ms. Jansen!” a girl shrieked from a few feet away. In seconds, a cluster of heads swiveled in their direction. Excited murmurs floated through the group, and then at least a half-dozen kids started toward them.

Jesse read the terror in Faith’s eyes, but it wasn’t because she was facing the kids from Faith’s House.
No, her gaze was riveted on one in particular.

“It can’t be.” The words were a bare whisper as she stared at Emily as if she were seeing a ghost.

She was, Jesse realized as Faith’s gaze centered on the bright red sweater the girl was wearing. It had been in one of the boxes Jesse had brought from Faith’s that afternoon.

“It’s Emily,” Jesse said, urging her gaze to his. “Emily,” he repeated.

“Emily?” She shook her head. “But it’s her.” Faith’s gaze shifted back to the girl, and she blanched. “Oh, my God.” She jerked free of his hand, turned, and bolted for the nearest exit.

“Where’d she go?” Emily asked as she came up to Jesse, a group of kids on her heels. “We wanted to say hi.”

“I think she’s feeling a little under the weather. Let’s give her a little time to get herself together.” Jesse motioned the disappointed group back toward the dance floor before going out the rear exit in search of Faith.

It was a good fifteen minutes before he found her leaning against the back of a neighboring building, her breathing heavy, as if she’d just escaped death by a fraction of a second.

“It was Emily,” he said, placing his hands on her trembling shoulders.
“Emily.”

“I …” She swallowed. “I know that. I saw her earlier dancing with Ricky. But when she started walking toward me and I got a really good look at the sweater, it was like seeing—” The name seemed to stick in her throat. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and frightened. So damned frightened. “I shouldn’t have come tonight. I wanted to. I was hoping …” Her words faded as she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I was hoping. I just know I can’t
do it again. I can’t be their friend, their foster mother. I just can’t.” Her eyes glittered brightly, reflecting the moonlight that cut through the darkness of the alley. “Can’t you understand?”

No. He couldn’t. She had to come back, to be everything she was before. She had to stop screwing up his chance at eternity.

“Yes,” he murmured, the word wrenched from someplace deep inside that only she could touch. “I can.” He pulled her into his arms and held her. “I can,” he whispered again into the softness of her hair.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I wanted to see Emily and Ricky, and the others. I wanted to be a part of them, but I can’t. I just can’t …” Her words faded into a sob that she buried in the curve of his neck.

It hurts too much
. Her soft voice cried through his conscience, and he knew the sudden urge to comfort, to reach out. Not simply because feeling Faith so close to him was stirring his passions, but because her nearness stirred something else—a fierce protectiveness that made him want more than just her body. He wanted her heart. Her soul.

He wanted to make her stop crying.

“Hey,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “I think we’re almost dancing.” A faint breeze carried the slow song playing at the community center. The melody reached out, filtered through the air, and surrounded them.

“We’re just standing here.” He felt her lips move against his shoulder.

He rocked her slowly from side to side. “How about now?”

She tilted her head up and smiled at him. “Close enough. I don’t know what it is about you, Jesse, but you always chase away the cold and make me feel
so warm. So alive.” She fit her head back in the curve of his neck and hugged him tighter. “I really need that right now.”

Her desperation seeped through him, swamping all reason that screamed for him to turn, to walk away from her now before it was too late. Before he did more than simply hold her.

“I need you,” she murmured, pressing herself against him, her curves molding to his, awakening his body the way her words awakened his spirit.

Then there was no reason. No logic.

Just her.

And him.

The two of them.

The connection. That was what drew him to her. He knew that, somewhere in the back of his mind where he’d pushed all
right
and
wrong
. It wouldn’t have mattered if an entire football stadium had separated them; he would have felt her heart beating. But what he was feeling now—this urge to protect, to pull her inside himself and shelter her—was different somehow. Stronger. More potent.

“I’m sorry I freaked out inside. I just miss her so much, I guess my mind was playing tricks on me.” She sniffled and Jesse felt a drop of wetness trickle down his skin. Tears.

He wasn’t sure whether it was her tears, her voice, or his own lust that did him in. Maybe all three, or maybe something more, something so big even he couldn’t comprehend it.

He only knew that he needed to touch her, really touch her, to chase away the tears and drive the sadness from her words.

It wasn’t the right time or place. His brain told him that, but his pounding heart—
her
heart—told
him something altogether different, and as much as Jesse wanted to resist, he couldn’t.