Kissing in the Dark (13 page)

“No one is perfect, Faith, not even the sheriff.” Iris sighed dramatically. “But he sure looks perfect, and just think of the benefits of having that dream man in your bed, kissing in the dark, feeling those strong arms—”

“For pity’s sake!” Grasping at her last thread of patience, Faith yanked off her apron. “This isn’t just about sharing a bed with a man. I’ll have to live with him, and have his children, and . . . God, how will I ever look him in the eyes if I don’t tell him the truth?”

“Men will want you, but mark my words,” Iris warned, “they won’t offer marriage if they know where you came from.”

“You need to think of the children,” Aster added. “The sheriff adores Cora. You can see he’d be a good father to her. And he was more than fair to Adam over that incident with the hair brush.”

“I know. That’s because he’s a kind, honorable man.” Faith blew out a breath. “But will he be so kind if he learns the truth?”

“No one can know for certain,” Aster said. “That’s why you need to guard the truth. It’s
your
past, not his. It should be your choice whether or not to share it with him.”

“If our courting leads to marriage, and he discovers the truth too late, he will never forgive my deceit.”

“Bah.” Aster crossed her arms over her chest as if the answer was obvious and the conversation unnecessary. “You’re worrying about something that may never happen. And if he does learn the truth, the sheriff is an intelligent and fair man. He’s also a man who can provide for you and the children.”

Iris put her arm around Faith’s shoulders. “Honey, I think half your nerves come from being attracted to him,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle.

Faith’s face heated. Had she been that transparent? What woman wouldn’t be attracted to a man like Sheriff Grayson?
Duke
Grayson.

“If I were in your shoes I would savor every minute of that man’s attention,” Iris continued. “And I’d do my best to get him to marry me. The alternative to marrying the sheriff could be far less desirable, you know.”

“I know.” She only had to think of the men who had frequented the brothel or called at her greenhouse.

“Courting him doesn’t mean you have to marry him,” Iris continued. “But it could make him more accepting of our business, and help establish us in the community.”

Faith tossed her apron into the crate on the floor. “It could help immensely to be in the sheriff’s favor. But our hopes could also come crashing down on our heads if he has a change of heart.”

“Then don’t let him have a change of heart.”

Faith looked to Aster, the honorary mother of their misfit family. “What do you think?”

“I think he’s the one man who can protect us,” she said quietly. “If we need him to.”

Chapter 11

Night had fallen by the time Duke entered the earthy-smelling greenhouse. A lantern burned on the counter in the front of the building, and another shone from the stone room in the back where he found Faith waiting for him beside the tub. She stood as he entered the room, and dazzled him with a smile.

“My answer is yes,” she said.

Her smile and her words stunned him. Was she saying yes to him? To courting? He’d been prepared to hear the word no. Or to have her avoid his question altogether. “Yes?” he asked, needing her confirmation.

She clasped her hands in front of her hips, her beautiful smile wobbling. “If you still desire to court me, I’d . . . I would be honored to accept your suit.”

If he still desired her? He nearly laughed. She worked hard, she was intelligent, and so beautiful it was a struggle to keep his hands off her. Yes, he definitely desired her.

He returned her smile. “I still want to court you.”

“Then I shall call you Duke in private.”

“That’s considerable progress from this morning.”

Her lips tilted, enhancing her smile, but her lashes swept down to conceal her eyes.

He watched her changing facial expressions with appreciation. She looked nervous and embarrassed and, if he wasn’t mistaking the tiny tremor in her chin, a little scared.

“Faith?”

She raised her lashes.

“I’m glad you said yes. But if you’re not sure, if you have any reservations—”

“None, Sheriff.” Her cheeks flushed. “I mean Duke.”

“I can change my name if you don’t care for it.”

A breathy laugh sailed past her lips. “You have a fine, strong name,” she said with sincerity. “It’s just awkward for me to be so . . . intimate with you.”

“Maybe this will help us get better acquainted.” He brushed his lips across hers to seal their agreement. “I’m honored to be your suitor.”

Her lashes swooped down like a shield. Did she know that her emotions shone in her eyes? Was this a habit of hers to hide her thoughts? And why the need to hide them?

He eased away. “Why do you do that?” he asked quietly.

“Do what?” She whisked her gaze to his face.

“You hide your eyes from me.”

“I don’t,” she said, but down went her lashes.

“You wield your eyelashes like a woman wields her fan. You give me a glimpse of your beauty then steal it away in the next second. A glimpse here, a peek there. It’s an art for sure, but it can tease a man to the point of losing control.” Her eyes flew open, and he chuckled. “I got your message, Faith. I won’t lose control.”

Down went her lashes again, the black crescents emphasizing her pink cheeks.

“There you go again, peeking and hiding.”

“Oh. Lord.” She pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. “What a dreadful habit.”

There was an endearing quality to her shyness, but it would drive him crazy to forever witness her emotions in snatches and glimpses. “Your husband never mentioned this to you?”

She lowered her hands and averted her face. “He was away frequently.”

“Why? That is, if you don’t mind my asking.”

She dipped her fingers into the tub. “His father was a planter, and my husband took their plants to the market. The water temperature feels fine now. I would recommend another soak be-fore we try to stretch your muscles.”

“Do you miss him?”

Her hand went still in the water. “We didn’t have a close relationship,” she admitted softly.

“Then I can only believe the man was a fool.”

“I was the fool.” She turned and looked straight into his eyes for the first time. “Thank you for that wonderful meal you had delivered this evening. I’ve never received such a thoughtful or meaningful gift.”

Until today, he’d never given one. He’d given plenty of fancy and expensive gifts to women, but never something as simple or valued as a good meal. “I couldn’t have made it through the day without the treatment you gave me this morning. Thank you for your kindness.”

Down went her lashes yet again, but they flashed up an instant later, as if she realized she was indulging her habit. “You should get in the bath now.”

He nodded and waited for her to leave the room before he undressed. After shucking his clothes, he wrapped his hips in a towel, then sat on the edge of the tub and dunked his foot into the water. He wasn’t trusting her to protect his assets.

The water felt comfortably warm, so he pushed off the edge of the tub and submerged himself completely. Underwater, he stretched out. His left shoulder screamed with pain as he forced his arm away from his side, but he couldn’t raise his fist higher than his neck. He rolled his body in the water like one of the logs they cleaned in the gorge behind the sawmill. The heated, scented liquid swirled around his aching body. He could do without the herbs and oils, but damn, the water felt good. As the tension in his back eased, he released his breath and sank to the bottom of the tub. When he broke the surface, Faith was standing beside the tub, smiling.

“Cora loves blowing bubbles in the water too.”

He slicked his hair back one-handed. “I need to own this tub.”

“That’s why I bought the place,” she said. “I wanted to buy Mr. Colburn’s house across the street, too, but I couldn’t afford it.”

“I thought it was odd that his house was still for sale.”

“I’m hoping it stays that way until I can afford to buy it. Of course, that will be five or ten years from now.” She handed him the metal stool, and waited while he tucked it beneath him. “I brought you some tea.”

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the cup.

She moved to the door. “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes.”

“Do you have to go?” He held the cup near his dripping chin. “If you can spare the time, I’d appreciate the company.”

Her answer was to sit on the table and fold her hands in her lap.

“Thank you,” he said. He sipped the hot tea, then rested the cup on the edge of the tub. “I’m glad you could see me tonight. I’m taking Covey to Mayville tomorrow, and won’t be back for a week.”

“I’ve not heard of Mayville, but it must be far from here if you’ll be away so long.”

“Just under twenty-five miles. I have a meeting there, and I make several stops along the way to check in with my undersheriff and our deputies.”

“I thought Sam Wade was your deputy.”

“He’s my only paid deputy. My other deputies are men who volunteer to act in a legal capacity for their towns. They handle small issues but wire when they need me. Otherwise, I visit them every couple of months.”

“Sounds like you spend a lot of time out of town.”

“Not really” He filled his mouth with tea and studied her as he swallowed. “Did it bother you that your husband spent so much time away?”

“No.” Her lashes twitched, but amazingly she didn’t hide her eyes. “I stayed with my mother and my aunts.”

“Where was your father?”

“I don’t know.” She looked down and fiddled with the linens beside her. “Mama said he ran off after I was born, and only came back long enough to sire Adam. After that, he disappeared and broke my mother’s heart.”

“Is this one of those stories like your aunts invent?” he asked, feeling as skeptical of this story as he’d been of Dahlia’s outlandish tale.

“Adam and I share the same father, although we’ve never met the man. I suspect he’s in prison, but my mother never talked about him. That’s the truth.”

He finished his tea, and set the cup on the stand. “What was your mother like?”

She sighed and shifted her gaze to the stone wall behind his head. “In a word, she was sad. My aunts could make her laugh, but her eyes were always filled with heartache. The only time she seemed at peace was when she tended her roses. She loved them and planted them all around our house. You could smell roses in the air all summer.” Her gaze dropped to his. “In the winter, she wore rose perfume and planted rosebush clippings in our greenhouse.”

“Was Rose a name she gave herself?” he asked, wanting to know more about the woman.

“Her name was Celia Rose, and she was as beautiful as the roses she grew.”

“I wish she were still here for you,” he said quietly, knowing Faith’s pain would ebb but never leave completely.

She acknowledged his comment with a small nod, but the sadness in her face made him want to hold her against his chest and comfort her. Not that he’d be able to restrict himself to that noble impulse for more than a minute, but he’d try.

“I lost my father thirteen years ago to a disease that sucked the life out of him.” Duke could usually talk about his father, but not about his death, which was why it surprised him that he was confessing to Faith. “When I was a boy, my dad was strong and had a laugh that filled the house. By the time I turned seventeen, he couldn’t even feed himself. He died before I turned eighteen.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “How awful for you and your family”

They fell silent, and he searched her eyes for whatever she was hiding from him. Maybe it was only heartache.

“It’s growing late.” She stood and shook open a large towel. “We should treat your shoulder now.”

Did she know it was too painful for him to converse during his treatment? Is that why she was standing beside the tub with a towel in her arms? He wanted to linger in the bath and talk to her, but her drawn face and dark eyes suggested she needed sleep.

He stood and took the towel she handed to him, but purposely caught her hands in the folds of soft cotton. Standing in the tub made him several inches taller than her. “Why don’t we skip my treatment tonight? I’ll leave so you can enjoy the bath before going to bed.”

She gazed up at him, her eyes startled and uncertain. “You need your treatment.”

“I’ll stretch when I get home,” he argued.

“It won’t be enough.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

She smiled. “Get out of the tub, Sheriff. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“I thought you were going to call me Duke.”

Her lips parted, and all he could think about was kissing her. He had to taste her.

Her lashes swooped down, then up, her gaze clashing with his. “Get out of the tub, Duke.”

The tremble in her voice undid him. He tugged her toward his mouth and leaned down to kiss her, knowing his need for her would consume him. He just didn’t give a damn.

o0o

Instantly Faith’s good intentions to take care of Duke’s shoulder and protect her heart were splintered to finders. She should shoo him out the door for taking such liberty with her, for standing in her tub like a king, stark naked but for a skimpy towel around his hips, kissing her like she was one of his harem. But her heart skipped a beat and her eyes fell closed and she forgot everything but the feel of his hard chest, the taste of his mouth, the low moan she knew meant pleasure . . . for him . . . for her . . . . His touch was soft, as was his tongue that pressed to part her lips; not pushing, not assaulting or demanding, just there, asking, wanting . . . her.

Against all doubts, and filled with a hope she’d never known, she parted her lips and allowed the kiss to deepen. Her stomach lifted and her legs trembled, and she thought of his tender tone when she’d told him he could be her suitor. She’d have been a fool to turn this man down, to forfeit a chance to win his affection that promised to be stalwart, true and . . . physically pleasurable.