Faithless Angel (16 page)

A handspan of space filled her peripheral vision as she sat cross-legged on the living room floor and alphabetized what was left of her CD collection. When that was done, she played ball with Grubby, tossing the red nylon ball toward the hallway, toward the door.

The little dog wagged his tail and wiggled after the ball. His excited body thumped against the wood, and the door creaked open an inch more.

Not yet, she told herself, forcing her attention elsewhere. She retrieved a can of disinfectant and attacked the baseboards in her living room, a time-consuming chore that taxed her muscles and drained her mind.

Three hours later, well past midnight, she crawled into bed, too tired to think or dream, or so she thought.

Faith
… The voice called to her from somewhere deep inside herself. But it wasn’t her own voice. It was Jesse’s. The deep timbre rumbled through her body, sending a wave of tremors washing over her senses.

I need you, Faith. You’re my only way out. You have to help me. You have to believe again
.

She railed against the thought even through the haziness of sleep. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t….

I know you’re afraid, but you don’t have to be. Not anymore. You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone. I’m here, Faith. I’m here
—

Her eyes snapped open to the darkness of the bedroom. She jerked upright, her heart pounding furiously, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Tears, when she’d been certain they’d all dried up by now.

The wetness trickled down her face, her neck, and Jesse’s voice echoed in her head.

You’re not alone. I’m here. I’m here….

She threw back the covers and padded down the hallway to Jane’s room. The door creaked open and she flipped on the light. Stacks of boxes filled the corners. Stuffed animals littered the bed, along with piles of clothes still on the hangers. So much stuff, even though the girl had only been at Faith’s House a little under a year.

Faith scooted some of the things aside and settled herself on the mattress. She touched the soft fur of a hot pink teddy bear—a Valentine’s present to Jane from Ricky—and a smile pulled at her lips. She stroked the furry head for a few seconds before reaching for the nearest box. Her fingers trembled and paused. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe—

I’m here
, came the deep, soothing voice.
I’m here
.

She pulled back the cardboard flaps. With a rush of tears and a silent prayer for strength, she went to work.

Bam, bam, bam
. The pounding on the front door drew Faith’s attention. She glanced up from the last box she’d been sifting through and stared past the bedroom doorway into the living room. She blinked.

Morning sunlight pushed through the slats in the blinds, showering the living room with brilliant white bars of light. Geez, she’d been at it for hours, she realized with a quick look at the nightstand clock.

“What’s wrong?” Jesse’s all-seeing eyes swept her from head to toe the moment she hauled open the front door.

“Nothing,” she murmured, and realized the statement
rang true. There was nothing wrong. She’d made it through each box, faced the contents and the memories, and here she was, alive and breathing. She smiled. “Absolutely nothing.”

His gaze swept her again, lingering on her face. Finally he grinned. “You look awfully pleased with yourself. What have you been up to?”

“My ears in boxes.” She motioned behind her to the stack of cardboard spilling out of the bedroom into the hallway. “A few are filled with clothes. I thought I’d send those to the girls at Faith’s House. The rest are going to Mrs. Moses at the mission. She’s sending somebody to pick them up.”

“If it’s only a box or two, I can take the stuff for Faith’s House after I finish with that ceiling fan you mentioned. The kitchen, you said?”

She nodded. “Thanks, Jesse.”

“Thanks for fixing the fan, or taking the boxes?”

“Both.”
And last night
, she added silently.

He smiled then, a slow sweep of his sensuous lips that lit up the room brighter than the sunlight. “My pleasure,” he said as he followed her into the kitchen.

Jesse tested the ceiling fan switch while Faith put a pot of coffee on to brew. Then she sank down into a kitchen chair, heedless that she was wearing nothing but an oversize T-shirt and white socks, and rested her head on her arms. Tired. Relieved.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Not much,” she murmured. Her eyes drifted shut, her ears tuned to the steady sound of Jesse’s breathing, the
thump-thump
of his heart. No, that had to be her own heart, because he was standing clear across the room.

“Try not at all,” he said somewhere in the vicinity of her left ear, and she realized he was very close.

Strong arms closed around her and she felt herself being lifted, carried. She wanted to snake her arms around his neck, pull him closer, lose herself in the heat of his eyes, his mouth. But she was too tired; the security was too lulling. She did little more than sigh as he tucked her into bed. The blankets closed around her and sleep claimed her completely.

Faith had never slept better in her entire life.

She opened her eyes just as afternoon shadows started to creep across the bedroom. Her gaze lingered on the jewelry box sitting in the middle of her dresser. One down, one to go, she thought. But not now. She felt too good, too purged.

She yawned, stretched, and padded to Jane’s room. The boxes were gone, the room clean. Obviously Jesse had seen to everything while she’d been asleep.

She flipped off the light and left the door wide open. There were no memories lurking inside anymore, no monsters. Her stomach gave a traitorous grumble and she smiled. Minutes later, she was digging in the pantry for something to eat. Not just anything. She had a craving tonight that only one thing could satisfy….

“There,” she said, pulling the box off the back shelf of her kitchen pantry. She reached for a bowl, eggs, and a spatula and went to work. A half hour later the delicious aroma of chocolate filled the house as Faith gathered up trash and yanked open the back door.

“Yikes!” She came up short as a solid mass of man blocked her path and she realized that she’d forgotten to lock the burglar bars. A mistake she’d made numerous times in the past, before Jane’s death.
Fear bolted through her until her gaze jerked up and she found herself staring into Jesse’s dark brown eyes. Gold flecks twinkled with amusement.

Faith held a hand to her rapidly beating heart. “Thanks a lot. You scared the pants off me.”

His gaze swept down and she saw a flicker of disappointment.

“I meant that figuratively.”

“A shame.”

“What are you doing here?”

He sniffed, a smile creasing his face as he stared past her into the kitchen. “Is that what I think it is?”

She frowned. “Yes, and you’re not getting any after scaring me like that.”

He gave her a wicked smile. “Have a heart, Faith. You’re dealing with a desperate man. I haven’t had any for months.”

She was sure his
any
referred to something entirely different than a plate of brownies, especially when he passed so close to her. He was so warm, scorching, and she barely resisted the urge to lean forward and touch her lips to his shoulder.

Distance quickly yawned between them as he left her to pounce on the platter sitting near the stove.

“A beautiful woman who can cook,” he said after biting into a warm brownie. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. I used a mix. You can thank Betty Crocker.”

He looked so at home standing there, filling up her kitchen. It was as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him to be leaning against her counter, scarfing down brownies and making her feel warm in all the wrong places. Or the right places, depending on which way she looked at it.

Considering he hadn’t so much as touched her
since that day in the rain, the warmth was definitely in all the wrong places.

“You handed the boxes over to the mission for me. Thanks.”

He ate another brownie before carrying the platter over to the table, where she joined him. “No trouble. Mrs. Moses came by while I was fixing the ceiling fan.”

“And you straightened up the room.”

He shrugged. “Once the boxes were gone, it was pretty clean. So what are you doing tonight?” He stared down at the platter. “Eating brownies all by yourself?”

“Maybe,” she said, retrieving a dog biscuit for Grubby, who licked at her ankles. “Grubby and I thought we’d play a little solitaire”—she indicated a stack of cards sitting on the counter—“and I’d have a chocolate fest.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jesse ate another brownie, and Faith drank in his appearance, noticing for the first time that he was wearing a button-up denim shirt tucked into denim jeans with a woven brown belt.

“Big date tonight?” she asked, wondering why the idea should bother her so much.

“Maybe later,” he said, eyeing her as he took another bite of brownie. “I thought I’d play a few hands of solitaire first.”

“Two people don’t play solitaire.”

“Then name your game.” He retrieved the deck of cards, flipped the chair around to straddle it, and started shuffling.

“You don’t have to sit here and baby-sit me, Jesse. If you have someplace to go …”
Someone to see
, she added silently. The notion sent a pang of hurt rippling
through her. “Don’t feel obligated. Just go wherever it is you were going.”

“Later,” he said. “Now I’m up for a little poker.” He started dealing. At her hesitation, he added, “You can play poker, can’t you?” Challenge glittered hot and bright in his eyes, and Faith found herself reaching for the cards.

“I can play anything you can deal, mister.”

“Good.” He glanced at his hand, then grabbed two brownies and placed them in the center of the table. “I raise you two.”

Faith smiled and met his challenge. A half hour later, she’d won a half dozen brownies, and eaten at least three.

“We have to stop.” She groaned, patting her stomach, “Or else I’ll have to unbutton my pants.”

At that comment, Jesse shoved a stack of winnings to the center of the table. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“Very funny,” Faith grumbled. “But I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Faith stared at him for a long moment and debated the truth of that. On the one hand, he looked dead serious. She could see the gold glinting in his eyes, feel the heat coming off him. On the other hand, he didn’t so much as make a move toward her. He was careful not to brush her hands when he dealt, equally careful to keep from staring at her any more than necessary.

“I quit,” she said, tired of games. Of wanting something she obviously couldn’t have.

“Wait.” One large hand reached out and covered hers. His skin burned into hers, oddly soothing and disconcerting at the same time. “What do you say we change the stakes?” He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and tugged at the collar.

Faith shook her head. “If you’re thinking about strip poker, think again. Especially after I just gained five pounds from that last hand.”

He grinned. “As tempting as that sounds, I had something a little different in mind.”

Heat flooded her face for an embarrassing moment. Okay, so she’d read him wrong. That seemed to be a habit she couldn’t shake when it came to Jesse Savage.

“What then?”

“I’m chaperoning the dance at the community center tonight.”

“Em and Ricky’s first date?”

He nodded.

She tilted her head and slanted him a glance. “So what’s the deal?”

“If I win this next hand, you come along and help.”

She was shaking her head even before he finished. “No, thanks. I think it’s time to call it quits.” She moved to get up, but his hand closed over hers again, and this time he didn’t let go.

“What’s the hurry? Have
you
got a hot date or something?” His gaze raked her from tank top to jeans, to her bare feet peeking from beneath the table.

“Only with my TV set.”

“Then you can cancel.”

“I don’t want to cancel.”

“You should have seen them,” he said matter-of-factly, leaning back to shuffle the cards. He watched her from beneath partially lowered lashes. “Ricky bought her a corsage.”

“What kind?” The words were out so quickly, she didn’t even consider holding them back. “Carnations?” She sighed. “Em loves carnations.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You really want to
know, then come with me and find out.”

Yes
. It was there on the tip of her tongue; all she had to do was let it go, but something held her back. A tightening in her chest, a closing of her throat.

She shook her head.

“Carnations,” he went on. “Red ones to match her sweater.”

The excitement snagged her attention again. “A red sweater? With jeans or a skirt? Don’t tell me she actually put on a skirt?”

“If I win, you can see for yourself.” He started dealing her a hand. “That’s the bet. I win and you come to the dance with me.”

“And if I win?”

He stopped shuffling, his dark eyes boring into hers for a long moment. “Then I’ll leave you alone about the kids.”

She willed her hands to close around the cards he’d dealt her, but for some reason Jesse’s wager held little appeal. Maybe because she wanted to see the kids again. As much as she fought against herself, against the hurt she’d felt, she wanted to see them, to hug them, to hear them laugh again.

“What’s the matter?” he asked when she hesitated. “Afraid I might beat you?”

She had to smile at that. “You’ve lost every hand.” And that was the trouble, she quickly realized. She was afraid she would win and he really would stop badgering her about the kids.

“I’ll win,” he said, his voice so calm, so self-assured, she knew in an instant that she’d been suckered. He’d been losing on purpose.

“I know what you’re up to,” she told him. “I did the same thing with Ricky.”

“How’s that?”

“He was ditching school so I challenged him to a
game of pool. We played forever, and I lost every game. Then we played the final round.”