3. Believe ItNot
BELIEVE IT OR NOT
CAIN
I come into Ripley’s riding a high I haven’t felt in years.
And it’s because of Faith.
Last night was… amazing .
Her laughter in my bed. Her skin, warm against mine. Her kiss still lingers on my mouth like honey and heat. I’m stupid with it.
The sex was out of this world. I can’t help but think about it, remember it, and wait until we close so I can get right back inside her.
I can smell her, that sweet, musky scent of arousal mixed with the faint tang of sweat. Her tits press against my chest, soft and full, begging to be freed from the Ripley’s shirt she’s wearing.
I can’t resist her. My hands are on her, rough and demanding, yanking the fabric up and over her head. She gasps, her nipples hardening into tight little peaks, begging for my mouth.
“You sure, sweet thing?” I ask softly.
She nods.
I kiss her.
My tongue invades her mouth, claiming her, owning her. She tastes like heaven—sweet and sinful. Her hands stroke my back, nails scoring my skin. It’s erotic, it’s sensuous.
I almost didn’t do this. She’s eight years younger than me. She works for me.
But I can’t resist her anymore. It’s been torture just holding her, kissing her, talking to her, and not taking her.
I break the kiss, trail my lips down her neck, biting and sucking until she’s whimpering.
I can feel her heat through the thin fabric of her panties. It drives me wild. My cock is hard as steel, straining against my jeans, desperate to be inside her.
I cup her ass, squeezing the firm flesh, and she moans.
“Cain, baby,” she breathes, her voice trembling. I love the way she says my name, the way she calls me baby.
I go down her body, down, down, down, removing her panties as I go. Her pussy is beautiful. She squirms as I look at her.
“You’re sweet everywhere, aren’t you, Faith?”
She blushes. It’s the sweetest thing ever.
I kiss her clit and lap at her folds, savoring the taste of her. She cries out, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I flick my tongue over her clit, teasing her and myself.
“Baby,” she begs.
“Are you sure?” I whisper. I’m desperate for her, but she’s been so careful, and it’s taken so long for us to get here that I don’t want to rush her.
She nods.
I brush a strand of her hair from her face and look into her eyes. “We can stop anytime,” I promise.
“I don't want to stop.” There’s such certainty in her voice that it makes me want to howl with pride. This gorgeous woman wants me.
I undress quickly. Put on a condom. Cover her with my body.
I press the tip of my erection against her entrance.
“You want this, sweet thing?” I can hardly say the words, I want inside her so badly.
“Yes.”
She nods frantically, her eyes pleading. I enter her slowly.
She’s tight, so tight. I groan at the sensation.
I can feel her orgasm building. Her pussy clenches around me, milking my cock with every thrust.
I reach between us, rubbing her clit in tight circles, and she shatters, her body convulsing as she comes.
Her scream is music to my ears. Her moans and cries add to the sweetness of her release.
On a groan, I follow her over the edge.
Grinning like a damn fool as I flip on the lights in my office.
I follow my routine. Open the safe. Count the cash. Start the day.
Except—
I open the safe, and my breath halts. The bundles are gone.
I blink, then check again, like maybe I’m imagining it. But no. The deposits from the weekend—gone. Ten grand in total. Disbelief slams into my chest, followed by a sharp, panicked spike of anger.
“Cain?” Paula’s voice cuts through my shock as she walks in, Melody right behind her. Paula takes one look at my face and her eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t answer at first. I just step aside so they can see the empty safe. They both know my ritual. Hell, Paula comes by to ask me for money, knowing I do this.
Melody gasps. Paula’s mouth tightens.
“Are there are any signs of a break-in anywhere else?” I hate how my voice shakes.
Paula and Melody exchange a glance.
My sister speaks first. “Cain, we saw Faith here last night. After closing.”
“What?”
“We came back to grab my purse, which I’d forgotten.” Paula looks uncomfortable as hell. “She didn’t see us, but we saw her. She was in your office.”
“No,” the word slips out. Faith was with me.
Not all the time. After closing, she went to her apartment; she said she needed some things. Then she came to my apartment. It’s upstairs. A loft. It’s convenient and…
“Cain, I saw what I saw,” Paula says defensively, her mouth in a pout. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”
I don’t know what to believe. I just had the best night of my life with the sexiest and nicest woman I’ve ever met, and now… I shake my head. “You know, I do, poppet.”
Paula has a job at Ripley’s. She doesn’t do any work, but she gets a paycheck. She’s supposedly managing our social media and marketing, which is bullshit because everyone in Silverton knows Ripley’s and everyone comes here.
I don’t need to market the restaurant.
But she’s my sister, and I take care of her, even though she’s twenty-five. She has a degree in marketing but keeps getting fired or laid off or whatever.
She’s the baby of the family, even though she’s only five years younger than me. We all spoiled her. My parents tried to get her to get a life before they left for the warmer climes of Palm Desert—and told me to stop bailing her out of trouble.
But she’s my baby sister.
Damn it! But I can’t believe Faith would steal. She just doesn’t seem the type.
“Maybe she was just?—”
“Cain,” Melody cuts in gently, almost too gently. “Kyle had her checked out. Last night, after Paula told him what she saw. We didn’t want to say anything, but ...she has a history.”
I raise both eyebrows.
Even though Faith and I’ve known each other for six months, I don’t know much about her past, except that she grew up in foster care. She left Seattle because she needed a change. She stopped here on her way to Los Angeles and fell in love with Silverton.
“What did you find out?”
She licks her lips. “Well… actually…” She looks at Paula.
My sister straightens. “Kyle says…”
Deputy Kyle Brewer works for the Marion County Sheriff’s Office and is Paula’s boyfriend.
“She worked for a nightclub there,” Paula continues.
Nightclub? I didn’t see that on her application.
“Anyway,” Melody interjects, “She worked for some guy called Jamie Da Silva. She stole money from him and then disappeared. Apparently, this Jamie guy was her boyfriend. He talked to Kyle.”
My heart is hammering so hard, it’s not funny.
I’m a grown man—eight years older than Faith—and I’ll admit that age gap has stirred up more than a little guilt.
I’ve never done well with younger women; most of the time, they come off as shallow to me.
Hell, my sister and her friend Melody drive me up the wall with their endless chatter about makeup, clothes, and whatever else they think passes for conversation.
Faith is different. She reads when she’s on break. She’s bright and cheerful. She doesn’t care about how she looks. She…steals?
“Look, we know she stayed the night with you.” Paula puts a hand on my shoulder. “So…”
“So what?”
She did stay the night with me, and it had been a terrific night. The sex. The conversation. The…affection had been mind-blowing.
Speaking of mind blowing, Cain, last night’s fuck just stole ten thousand dollars from you.
“Cain, this is who she is.” Melody flutters her eyelashes, sympathy pouring out of her eyes.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, well, about three years ago, we had a thing for a short time.
Since then, Melody has made it clear to me she’d like us to get back together.
I made it clear that isn’t going to happen.
I was polite about it, but the sex was abysmal because Melody is one of those women who wants the man to do all the work and doesn’t understand sex is a team sport with two participants.
She’s also unable to have a conversation that doesn’t evolve from a fashion influencer’s point of view.
“What are you reading?” I ask Faith when she’s sitting outside on one of the benches in the back of Ripley’s during her break with a book.
She glances up, sunlight catching the gold flecks in her eyes. She holds the paperback up for me to see.
The Master and Margarita.
I didn’t expect that. “Bulgakov. That’s not exactly light reading.”
She smiles. “Why do you think I want to read something light?”
Because you’re twenty-two and look like a Latin pin-up model. Those misogynistic assholes—of which I’m not one—don’t expect you to have brains. Feeling chagrined, I ask, “What do you like about it?”
“You’ve read the book?” she asks suspiciously.
I laugh. “Yeah, smarty pants, I have.”
Faith smiles. “I like the chaos of it. The way it blurs the line between reality and madness. Plus, the devil shows up in Moscow with a talking cat. What’s not to love?”
Charmed, I settle onto the bench beside her. “I read it in college. It twisted my brain.”
“What did you study?”
“Business. At the University of Oregon.” I knew she hadn’t studied past high school. It had been on her resume, which is why I didn’t expect to see her reading freaking Bulgakov.
“I didn’t…you know…go to college. But stories”—she taps the book—“they’re an escape. You can disappear into a whole new world without ever moving.”
“These days people read on Kindle, you’re still doing the old-fashioned thing,” I teased.
She looks at me sheepishly. “I’d love to have a Kindle…maybe soon. But for now, I have a library card. First thing I signed up for after my lease.”
I want to buy her a Kindle and stuff it with books for her.
I study her profile, the way she hugs the book to her chest like it’s a shield. She’s twenty-two, barely more than a kid, but there’s something in her—sharp, thoughtful, old-soul deep.
“Faith,” I say, half a warning, half a whisper.
She looks at me.
And for a moment, I forget the restaurant, the rules, the years between us—because she’s not what I expected.
“I have books at my place, you’re welcome to borrow anytime.”
Paula is speaking, but I’ve zoned her out until something she says penetrates my haze.
“Kyle said that…if you want to press charges, then?—”
“What do you mean if I want to press charges?” The words taste like rust and regret.
Both Melody and Paula look relieved. Did they think just because Faith and I fucked I would let her get away with stealing?
I was falling in love with her, and…
The floor tilts beneath me. My gut twists.
I don’t want to believe it but the proof has been laid out in front of me and I’m a grown man who doesn’t think with his dick.
I pull out my phone and make the call.
After I tell Kyle that I am indeed pressing charges and want an investigation into the theft of ten thousand dollars, I feel drained. The high I was riding this morning crashes, burning my soul on the way down.