Chapter Eighteen
She felt him before she saw him and turned with a smile. One look and the familiar slow burn began in the pit of her stomach. Breathless, Faith waited as Gus walked toward her, aware that every single female head was turned his way.
And he’s all mine.
“You’re late,” she said, touching his arm because she needed to. He’d come from the cottages, so he was wearing his work boots, and his clothes were spotted and dirty. He had a smear of something black on his right cheek. She touched it and grinned.
“You need a cleanup.”
“I need something.” His voice was low — only for her ears — and that slow burn in her stomach erupted in the kind of heat that made it hard to work. Luckily, she’d just clocked out.
“I’m done early. Cassidy is working a working a double instead of me. She wanted the extra cash. We can order wings and watch the game.” She glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “Where’s Walker?”
“He and the guys are coming later. They were close to finishing up the last roof and wanted to keep at it.” He shuffled his feet a bit. “Do you mind if we head back? I thought I’d grab some steaks and throw them on the barbecue.”
“That sounds great. I’d much rather have you all to myself anyway.” Faith stepped away. “I just need to cash out.”
He nodded and took off his ball cap, then ran his hands through his hair. A simple gesture, but already Faith was thinking ahead to later when she’d have him in her bed and could run her hands through his hair, touch his face, and take him deep inside her.
“Jesus,” she whispered. The slow burn that had settled between her legs was going to make it hard as hell to keep a straight face in Sam’s office. Then there was the ride home. Unless . . .
She grinned.
Unless she ordered him to pull over, and they got down to business on the side of the road.
She couldn’t shake the silly grin from her face, though it dimmed a bit when she walked back outside and spied Gus leaning against the bar. His head was tilted up as if he were watching the game, but she could tell that he was a million miles away. He looked . . . different. Tense maybe.
“Hey,” she said softly as she approached him. “Everything all right?”
Gus looked at her for a few moments and then dipped his head. “It is now.” He dropped a soft kiss to her mouth. “You ready?”
The two of them left The Dock, and she got into his truck while he put her bicycle into the back. The ride home was different. The vibe was different. And for the first time since they’d started up this thing between them, Faith was worried. Gus was too quiet. Too pensive.
She knew she had to shake off whatever it was she felt. But it was harder to do than she thought. While he was in the grocery store grabbing steaks, she sat in the truck, slowed her breathing, and willed the anxiety away.
Once they were home, Gus headed for the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower and get the steaks prepared. Meet you in the backyard in thirty?”
“You bet.” She watched him until he disappeared and then knocked on Candy’s door. Taco was waiting excitedly for her.
“You’re early.” Candy wiped chocolate from her face.
“Cassidy took my evening shift.”
Candy handed her the leash. “I just had him outside.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” The woman smiled widely. “Never thought I’d like a dog so much, but I swear he’s almost human.”
Faith rushed upstairs and had a quick body shower.
She slathered lotion over every inch of her body and took some time to add more makeup than she generally wore.
Her eyes popped, and her mouth glistened a soft pink.
She left her hair down and slipped into a soft, creamy strapless dress that floated around her knees.
She’d thrifted it the week before and had been dying to wear it.
With one last mist of body spray, she was done.
She grabbed a bottle of wine on her way out, and Taco followed her downstairs and out to the backyard.
Gus looked over his shoulder when she walked onto the back deck and whistled when he spied her. “Damn. You’re looking almost as good as these steaks.”
“Almost?” she teased, opening the wine so it could breathe. “Not sure I like that.”
“I won’t know for sure until I taste you.”
She poured a glass of red and walked it over to him. “I hope you’re hungry.”
His dark eyes flashed, and her heart turned over. He leaned down, his breath warm against her neck.
“Fucking starving.” He took the wine and flashed a grin. “We’ll be twenty minutes or so.”
Faith walked on air as she made her way back to the table. She poured herself a glass of wine and wandered back to him. She couldn’t physically stop herself. The need to be close to Gus was that strong.
They shared the details of their day. While Gus’s hadn’t been any different than the one before, Faith told him about the elderly woman who had lunch on her own but asked for a second-place setting.
It was the woman’s anniversary, but her husband, the man she said was the love of her life, had passed the year before.
She had a glass of champagne, and nibbled on chicken tenders, and asked for a pint of Guinness and cheese and bacon burger, which sat untouched.
“It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Gus set her plate down on the table, and the two of them tucked into their food. It was delicious. The steaks were perfect, the sides tasty, and the company outstanding. Whatever weird vibe she’d felt earlier was gone. Gus was charming and sexy, and she couldn’t wait to get him upstairs.
They finished eating and took Taco for a walk, enjoying the night air and their neighbors.
It was funny. Faith had lived the last five years of her life in an exclusive gated community.
In that time, she’d only managed to know a few of her neighbors — Jane, the publishing exec who lived beside her parent’s house and the Landers, who lived a few doors down.
In the short time she’d been in Fire Lake, Faith had met many folks who were lovely and genuine, and more importantly, she knew them by name. Not one of whom had made her feel like she didn’t belong.
They waved at Mr. Swarts, who offered them another basket of apples. Faith didn’t have the heart to say no.
“I might have to learn to make a pie,” she said with a chuckle. By the time they got back to the house, it was dark, and the moon had made an appearance. Their routine had become so familiar — so automatic — that she was surprised when Gus didn’t follow Faith into her apartment.
She’d unlocked the door and glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming in?” That doubt that had plagued her earlier was back.
“Yeah. I just need to grab something first.”
“Okay.” She let herself inside and topped up Taco’s water before lighting a few candles for ambience. She was jittery and felt silly about it, so she opened another bottle of wine and took a gulp from the bottle before pouring two glasses, which she left on the counter.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror and froze.
Who was this woman staring back at her? She was flushed.
Her skin glowed, tanned and healthy. Her eyes were huge — luminous.
Slowly, she brought her fingers to her face and ran them over her lips before gently touching the erratic pulse at her neck as an unfamiliar feeling washed over her.
It was part fear and anticipation, with a little bit of excitement sprinkled in.
There was a knock, and then Gus appeared with a small gift bag in his hand. He cleared his throat, shuffled his feet a bit, and offered it to Faith. “It’s nothing big but I ah . . .” A boyish smile crept over his face. “Well, I got something for you.”
That unfamiliar feeling expanded until it became a big lump at the back of her throat. She accepted the pink and silver bag and gently moved aside the white tissue paper. It was a book. The third in the series she’d started. The one she’d been talking about nonstop.
“Where did you . . .” She had to stop because of the damn lump and took a moment. “It’s sold out.” She looked at him and hoped like hell the tears she felt stinging the corners of her eyes stayed there. She was a mess. Over a book.
“They got another shipment in today.”
“But how did . . . you worked today.”
“I picked it up when I got the food order from Tully.”
She looked down at the book because the tears were starting. “Shit,” she murmured. Stop.
“Hey.” His hand was under her chin, his touch gentle.
She had no choice but to look up at him.
His eyes were shadowed, and she held her breath when he lowered his head.
The kiss was the sweetest thing she’d ever experienced.
His mouth claimed hers slowly, and he took his time, then deepened it.
Good Lord. Gus David knew how to kiss. She was on fire, her body turning molten.
She sagged against him, and they broke apart, each needing a moment because their need was that strong. There were no words. There was only touch and feel.
Gus scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. She was already shimmying out of her dress while he quickly shrugged off his clothes. They landed in a pile on the floor as he moved over her, kissing every inch that he could.
She sighed and opened her legs. She reveled in the feel of his tongue on her — his hands holding her steady as the familiar wave built and crested, leaving her limbs shaking and her body limp.
“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, making his way up her body.
He worshipped her breasts before claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss that left her head spinning.
She barely had time to breathe when he eased inside her, filling her fully, and she wrapped her legs around him, urging him on because she couldn’t wait.
“Demanding,” he growled before claiming another kiss. Their bodies rocked together, their tempo fast and hard, and when they came together, it was his guttural, male growl that rang in her ears.
Afterward, she lay on her side, fingers tracing his tattoos. “Tell me about them,” she said softly, her fingers on his neck. “This one is because you were a SEAL, right?”
He nodded.
She moved her hand to his shoulder. To the vines that drifted over the muscle there and across his back, then down his left side. There were names hidden among the leaves. And symbols.
Gus was silent for a few moments, his eyes closed. When he opened them and looked at her, their depths were sad. “Those are the guys I knew that didn’t make it back from missions. Some of them were SEALS. Some Rangers. Two were Delta.”
“I’m sorry.” She leaned into him. “Why did you join?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I wanted to make a difference. Do something that mattered. Joining the service seemed the way to go.”
“It must have been hard though. Being away from your family for that long.”
He nodded but didn’t answer.
“You never talk about them.”
He glanced at her. Held her gaze. “That’s something we have in common.”
Her heart fluttered at that, but she didn’t look away. “My family is complicated.”
He ran his thumb along her jawline and then traced the outline of her lips. “Mine is fucked up.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Faith kept her cool, but inside, his denial was like a dart through her heart. And it hurt. A lot.
“At least not now,” he murmured, reaching for her again. His mouth was demanding, his touch rough, and her body responded like an instrument to be played. “I can’t get enough of you,” he breathed into her, hands between her legs, seeking, stroking.
She whimpered, her body on fire with a need that was hard to articulate because everything felt different. It was intense and hurried, as if they were running out of time. He ravaged her mouth and then sank into her once again, their bodies perfectly aligned and in tune.
“You feel so right,” she whispered fiercely.
As Gus held her face between his hands and moved inside Faith, something shifted. Something bloomed. Something big and warm and overwhelming. She could only cling to him, helpless to stop the tide that rolled over in a fury of passion and want and need.
He meant something more than casual.
And I have to give him up.
She slammed her eyes shut and tucked her head into the crook of his neck.
Gus shuddered and, with a groan, rolled onto his side, taking her with him.
For the longest time he held her close, but then he did something he hadn’t done since they’d started sleeping together.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and slid from her bed. From her warmth and her arms.
He reached for his jeans and pulled them on while, confused, she watched him in silence.
“I’ve got an early day tomorrow and I need to do some work tonight to prepare so I’m going to head back to my place.”
“Oh.” The word was small, hollow, and try as she might, Faith couldn’t hide her hurt.
Gus pulled on his shirt and kept his voice light. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded. “Are we still going to the music thing at the winery?” She was working a day shift but had the evening off. They’d made plans the week before.
“Absolutely,” he replied with a wink.
He was gone before she could ask him to stay.
Something to be grateful for, she supposed.
With a sigh, she rolled out of bed and, after taking care of some things in the bathroom, pulled on one of Gus’s T-shirts, which nearly fell to her knees.
It smelled like him, and she hugged it to her body and walked to the kitchen.
She wasn’t hungry but felt the need for something.
She found a half-eaten bag of chips in the cupboard and wandered to the window, Taco at her side, waiting patiently for a treat.
She offered him a chip and stared into the night.
Faith wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but it was long enough for her legs to cramp and for cold to take hold.
She was about to move away when she saw something below.
She pressed her nose against the glass pane and squinted into the shadows.
Then, she pulled back quickly when she realized it was Gus, gearing up for a run.
When she chanced another peek, he finished stretching and jogged toward the treeline that ate him whole.
She tossed the bag of chips onto the counter and sank onto the sofa. Taco jumped up beside her and placed his head on her lap. Gus had every right to sleep in his own bed if he wanted to. Or go for a run at midnight if he felt the need. She had no right to feel hurt.
And yet, how could she not? She had feelings for the man, and if she didn’t get a handle on them, she didn’t want to think about the consequences. Because he was leaving her. There was no mistaking that.
“I’m so screwed.” Her voice caught as she whispered into the dark.
The trouble with being alone was that there was no one to whisper back.