Chapter One #3
I accept her gift, our skin brushing as it exchanges hands.
A shot of electricity jolts up my arm and goes straight to my cock.
Something about this woman gets to me, from her gorgeous face and curvaceous body to her strength and the hint of occasional fragility beneath.
I know with everything in me I ought to stay away.
From the fact that her tire might have been slashed to the fact that she doesn’t radiate one-night-stand type of woman to me, I should say goodbye and walk out the door.
“Have dinner with me.” I blurt out the words before I can think them through.
She stares at me in surprise, those pretty lips pursing in thought, green eyes huge. “Umm … I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I have too much going on right now, and I don’t date and … well, we shouldn’t.” She sounds sad, as if she doesn’t want to say no.
I roll my shoulders, deciding it is for the best even if I don’t like being turned down by her. “I understand.”
She stares at me for a heartbeat. “Well, thanks again.”
I incline my head. “You can thank me by locking your door and being careful out there.” Her slashed tire stays with me, bothers me, even.
Sure, this is New York City and not the best neighborhood, so it really could have been done by someone who considers vandalism a good time. I’d probably go with that theory, too, if not for the slightly panicked reaction she tried to hide.
“Don’t worry. I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself,” she says, striding toward the door. “But I’ll take your advice.”
I step out the door she opens for me. “Bye, sweetness,” I say. “It was nice meeting you, Faith Lancaster.”
She wrinkles her nose at the nickname.
“Would you prefer candy girl?” I ask, chuckling at the blush on her cheeks as I walk away.
* * *
Faith
If I dated anyone, I would date Jason Dare. I lean back against the door and sigh like a teenage girl crushing on her first date. My God, that man has an ass to die for.
When I wasn’t carrying candy baskets upstairs, I was ogling his rear end in his suit trousers.
I can only imagine him naked, and that is the idea that has me shivering when my thoughts should be on whether my slashed tire was a freak incident, as I told Jason, or a warning sign from the brother I ran away from.
When we were younger, I loved my brother, but as he grew up, Colton developed … issues, and that is putting it mildly. Drugs took over his life.
I step away from the door, hating that I am going down this train of thought, but I can’t help it. The tire brings up all sorts of fears. And memories.
Colton showing up after our mom died unexpectedly, demanding his share of the estate, only to find out he was disinherited.
His rage and anger. Though my mom wasn’t wealthy, she wasn’t poor.
She had money from her parents, which she saved, and she took out a life insurance policy with me as the beneficiary.
I double-check the lock and dead bolt on my door, as the memories continue to flow. As much as I would have liked to share the money with my sibling, I agreed with my mom. Colton would throw the money away on drugs, so I honored my mother’s wishes and refused him.
I should have known that wouldn’t be the end of it. Colton came by high one night, broke into my apartment, grabbed me around the neck, and threatened to kill me. That was the moment I understood the brother I knew was lost to me, and fear like I’d never known encompassed me.
Maybe I should have called the police, but I was afraid of angering him more.
I know from experience he never stays behind bars for long, no matter what petty crime they pick him up for.
So within three days of his threats, I quit my job, packed up the necessities, and left my small Midwestern town, heading to the biggest city I could think of, where I could get lost.
I checked into a hotel with cash, then found a lawyer willing to see me that same week, and he filed paperwork to change my name from Faith Holland to Faith Lancaster.
Understanding the rush, he pulled strings to get me in to see a judge, who he convinced my life was in danger.
And as I still had faint bruises on my neck, and photographs I took immediately after, he was willing to seal my records.
I’ve been in New York for a year, and I’ve moved fast with everything I’ve done.
I have a new name, a new life, a shop I leased because it already had a commercial kitchen …
and as I glance around my apartment and out the window, I remember I also have a slashed tire that might or might not present a problem.
Is it any wonder I turned Jason down? From the time my dad left, leaving me to feel like it was my fault, that I was too much of a burden for him, I learned to distrust men. If the one who was supposed to love and take care of me couldn’t stick around, why would someone I merely dated?
I’m not a virgin, but I definitely don’t get involved with many guys. Yet for the first time, I was severely tempted to break my no-dating rule. Jason got my blood pumping, desire flowing, and he made me want to step out of the hidden comfort zone I’ve cushioned myself in for most of my life.
But I can’t. I know better than to trust any guy, let alone a nightclub owner I just met. Even if he was my savior tonight.