CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nick’s daily routine was thwarted when it finally rained. Walking to the coffee shop and reading in the park lost its allure in a cold downpour. He sulked restlessly around Tess’s house. His surgery was the next day, and even though it hurt like hell to walk, he’d really wanted one last day of mobility before being bedridden again.
And, as much as he hated to admit it, he’d grown accustomed to running into Faith in town. Sure, she was kind of a nut job, but she was also pretty and fun to be around.
He’d first pegged her as unserious, perhaps even not-too-bright, but having gotten to know her a little, had come to realize she was responsible when it mattered.
She cared for her dad, looked after her little sister, and, after nursing her mother all year, managed a store she didn’t really want or know much about. Even dealing with all that, she remained so cheerful and optimistic.
When Faith confronted him at the watch party, her forthcoming honesty had surprised him. Most women he dated played games. Whether it was “guess how I feel” or “figure out what I want,” he was never any good at them and hadn’t won one yet. It was refreshing to have a woman just say what she thought. And with an opponent like that, maybe he stood a chance at winning for once.
Asking her out yesterday had been half spur-of-the-moment, half I-can’t-get-her-out-of-my-head-might-as-well-just-do-it. Heck, they’d already made out. How could a date mess things up any more? Tess would kill him, but when the cat’s away…
He’d already packed most of his stuff. After the surgery, he was moving back to his parents’ home. The procedure would be minimally invasive—the doctor planned to micro-target the piece of bone—but he’d still need extra help for a few days.
He called his boss, intending to leave a message about the setback. It was Sunday, but he wasn’t surprised when the Special Agent in Charge picked up.
“Workin’ on a Sunday, sir?”
“Saw it was you, and wanted to find out how you’re doing,” SAC Mathison said.
“That’s why I’m calling actually. They have to go back in and fish some bone debris out of my leg. Surgery’s tomorrow. I should heal faster this time, but I’m still weeks away from returning to work.”
“No hurry. We got you covered,” his boss said. “I’ve reassigned all your cases.”
“Sounds like you don’t miss me at all.”
“You know how it is.” The SAC sighed. “We’re all expendable.”
“That’s harsh,” Nick said, trying to hide his irritation. “It’s barely been a month since we buried Andy, and you’re ready to move on?”
“No. You’re right. I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t realize how apathetic I’ve become.”
Nick understood. Being an agent meant always looking for the bad in people. Always wondering what they were hiding or lying about. Always searching for—and usually finding—the seedy underbelly of society. The cynicism kept you alive, and it was tough to be good at your job without it.
“I get it,” Nick said. “Anyway, just wanted to keep you in the loop.”
“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to call you about.”
Nick tensed, pretty sure he knew where this was heading.
“Someone from INTERPOL called and said you ran a check on a guy on their watchlist. What’s that about?”
When Faith’s dad popped up as “wanted,” Nick knew he’d set off some internal alarms. He was surprised they hadn’t called sooner. This was just his luck. He finally breaks the rules, runs someone he shouldn’t have, and gets caught straightaway.
“A friend of mine is trying to locate her biological father. Unfortunately, I found him in the system. Am I gonna get jammed up over it?”
“Well, if I assign you his case, that would make it legitimate. You can work it remotely. You track him down, and we’ll pick him up. Otherwise, yeah, I’d have to write you up for misusing agency resources.”
Nick groaned. Talk about good news, bad news. He finally gets a nugget of work, but if he does the job properly, his new friend’s new dad goes to jail. That summed up his job perfectly. It was rarely ever a win-win.
“I’ll start next week.”
After the call, he broke down and took a pain pill. His leg wasn’t just not healing, it seemed to be getting worse. He prayed tomorrow’s surgery would fix that.
To kill time before his date with Faith later, he settled in on the couch with his latest book. Tess must have turned down the thermostat, because the room was freezing.
Too lazy to unpack a sweatshirt, he slipped his feet into a pair of pink, unicorn-covered slippers he found lying under the coffee table and wrapped himself in an equally ugly fleece blanket. He looked ridiculous, but didn’t care. Tess was up in the mountains somewhere and wouldn’t be home until late tonight.
He woke to a snicker. Cracking open an eye, he caught Faith lowering her phone as if she’d just taken a picture.
“What are you doing here?”
“I lost a contact lens, and all my spares are here. Those look great on you,” she teased, pursing her lips at his feet.
“The Vicodin told me they were a good idea.” He hastily kicked off the garish slippers. “Did you take a picture of me?”
“You never know when a photo like this might come in handy. I bet Tess would pay good money for it.”
“Not nice to kick a man while he’s down. It’s my last day before surgery, and I can’t even leave the house.” He got up off the couch, dropping the blanket. “You guys keep it arctic in here. I’m trying not to freeze to death.”
They stood, staring at each other. And just like every other time they locked eyes, something jolted through him. There was no more denying it. He liked Faith. What he initially saw as quirky, borderline crazy, had grown on him, and now he craved it.
In his half-dozed, half-drugged state, what happened next was inevitable. He took a step toward her, and she met him halfway. They latched together like magnets and stumbled to her room. To her bed. His leg was sore but not enough to stop him from getting down to—and taking care of—business.
A while later, dressed and back in the living room, awkwardness set in.
“So, you replaced your contact lens?” he asked, mentally slapping his forehead. What a dumb thing to say.
“Tess is going to kill us,” she said. He should have known Faith wouldn’t beat around the bush with meaningless small talk.
“Not if she never finds out,” he countered. “I could always blame the drugs. What’s your excuse?”
“You’re too cute to resist.” She bopped him on the nose.
“Cute?” Was that supposed to be a compliment?
“Sorry. Handsome. Ruggedly so. Very manly and all that.”
He rolled his eyes.
“It stopped raining,” she said, peeking out the window. “I can give you a ride to town if you want.”
“That’s all right.”
“Just so you know, I don’t usually do that.” She inclined her head toward the bedroom. “Especially not before a first date.”
“Yeah. Me either.”
Silence settled over them, and he started to question the soundness of his spontaneous decision. Tess had warned him Faith sometimes jumped into things without thinking them through. Was that what this was? And was it contagious?
“Well, I’ve got to get back to work,” Faith said, looking at her watch.
“Okay. We still on for tonight?” Everything was backward. The date after the sex? He wasn’t normally so impulsive. Something about Faith had him losing control, and he needed to regain it.
Her phone vibrated, and she checked the caller ID. “Hold that thought,” she said, holding up a finger. “Hello?”
As she listened, her face fell. “Oh dear. I’ll be right there. Thanks for calling.”
“Hope?” Nick asked, and she nodded. “More vandalism?”
“Shoplifting this time. She’s at the police station in Meredith. I’m going to have to take a rain check on tonight.”
“Do you want me to go with you? We could do a good cop, bad cop thing. See if we can’t scare her straight.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I know she has money. I just gave her two hundred dollars to finish school shopping. Why would she steal something?”
“She’s been hanging out with some loser. Kid named Shane. I’d nip that in the bud first chance. She also might still be acting out.”
“Yeah. I appreciate the offer to come with, but I better handle it.”
He’d become so used to only seeing a smile on her face that it caught him off guard to see her frown. He followed her to the door.
“Call if you need anything.”
Instead of a fun date with Faith, he spent the night worried about her and her sister. He knew he should tell Faith about her real father being a criminal, but adding to her burden right now just seemed cruel.
It was not a conversation he looked forward to, but keeping it from her didn’t seem right either. He’d let all this stuff with Hope settle first and then feel out the situation. If he thought she could take it, he’d tell her next time they were alone.