Finally Finding Faith (The Reed Brothers) (6 page)

He holds up three fingers. “Three things,” he says. He shows me one finger. “One – you can’t try to fix me, okay?”

I nod. I can try to fix him without him knowing, can’t I?

He holds up two fingers. “Two – I am not going to chop off any vital parts of your anatomy.” His eyes slide slowly up and down my body. “I like all your parts exactly like they are. While you’re breathing. It would seriously be a travesty to change one single thing about you.”

“What’s number three?” I squeak.

He holds up three fingers. “Three,” he says. He breathes out a heavy sigh. “I am not going to fall in love with you, no matter what.” He walks slowly toward me. I roll the pocketknife in my hand and he chuckles. He’s smiling, though. “Now, if you’re okay with my list, I’ll see you when I get out of the shower.” He leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead. He lingers there, taking in a deep breath.

“You’re smelling me again,” I whisper.

His chest rumbles. “I know,” he whispers back. He finally lifts his head and I feel a cool spot on my skin where his kiss was.  He goes into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. I sink down on the edge of the bed, because I don’t want to go anywhere else. Nowhere else at all.

I pull my boots off, because they’re wet and dirty. I really should have worn socks that match. One of my socks is neon pink with leopard spots and the other is camouflage. Then I pull my sweatshirt over my head and lay it beside me. I don’t know what to do with myself.

I suppose this is no different than going home with a random stranger, is it? Nope. At least this random stranger met my grandparents and they know I’m with him, so it’s not as though I’m out in the universe alone. I either need to leave or get over it. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. I yawn into my fist. And I do want a nap. My eyelids are growing heavier and heavier every minute.

The bathroom door opens and he sticks his head out.  His hair is wet and sticking out in all directions. He grins at me, and he looks particularly boyish. “Can you do me a favor?” he asks. He has enough of his chest sticking out that I can see that he’s wearing a T-shirt.

I look around. Did he forget something? “What?” I ask.

“Can you close your eyes?” He grimaces.

“Why?” Okay, that was a stupid question. But now it’s out there.

He frowns. “Just do it, please?”

I cover my eyes with my hands and I hear him hop across the carpet. It’s a steady thump. He took his leg off a
nd he doesn’t want me to see it? I keep my eyes covered until the bed shifts beside me and I feel the covers furrow around me.

“You can open them now,” he says. “It’s rather ungraceful to hop across the carpet,” he rushes to explain.

I hold up a hand. “You can be as ungraceful as you need to. It won’t affect how much I like you.”

“It’s just…”
he starts. “I took my prosthesis off for my shower and it’s kind of a pain to put it back on and I’m kind of good at hopping.”

He’s rambling. I think it’s cute. “But not good enough for me to watch you hop.” I grin.

“Definitely not.”

“Maybe on our second date,” I say.

He doesn’t meet my eyes. He tosses the covers back on what I assume is my side. “C’mon,” he says. “Bring your knife.” He laughs.

I get up and close the drapes, leaving nothing more than a crack so a sliver of light steals into the room. I see him put his hands behind his head as he looks at me. “You can’t sleep in jeans,” he says. “You’ll be uncomfortable.”

“You trying to get me naked?” I ask.

“Yep,” he says crisply. “Is it working?”

“Nope,” I reply.

“There are brand new boxers in my bag, if you want to wear them.”

I go to his bag and riffle around until I find an unopened pack of underwear. I take them into the bathroom, slide out of my jeans, and pull them on. I look into the mirror and ask myself, “What am I doing?”

I’m going to take a nap, that’s what I’m going to do.

I walk back into the room and he turns off the bedside lamp, and now it’s finally dark. I slide under the covers and lay on my stomach with my face turned toward him.

“I like you in my boxers,” he whispers.

I do, too, but I don’t say anything.

“You going to sleep way over there?” he asks quietly.

“Yep,” I say.

“You promised you’d snuggle with me,” he says.  It’s little more than a breath, but I can hear it.

I wait a pause. “Did I?”

His hand snakes around my waist and he hooks his arm around me, drawing me forward so that he’s lined up behind me like we’re two spoons in a drawer.
Like Nan and Granddad were wrapped up in each other earlier. I can feel his thighs behind mine and my bottom is in his lap.  “Either you have put your gun in your pocket or you’re happy to see me,” I say when I feel him pressed against my bottom.

“Shh,” he whispers. He brushes my hair down out of his face and I feel a quick kiss on the nape of my neck. “Go to sleep,” he says. “I’ll protect you from anything that could harm you.”

I smile into my pillow. “Fine. Make me fall in love with you. I don’t care.”

He tenses behind me but he doesn’t respond. His fingers play around the hem of my shirt until he finds the edge of it, and then he slides his hand beneath, pressing his palm against my skin. I dare not breathe for fear that he’ll move and take away the perfect.

Daniel

I wake up with a warm body curled into mine. I’m on my back, and she’s lying with her head in the crook of my arm. My whole arm is asleep, and I flex my fingers trying to get the blood to flow. I don’t want to move, though. God, I don’t want to move. I like the way she feels pressed along my side. I like it so fucking much that I won’t ever fucking move. If there was ever a time I wanted the clock to stand still, it’s now.

Faith wiggles
and her thigh presses into mine, so I do the natural thing and pull it across my body. My dick is so hard I could pound nails with it. But I don’t even want to use it.  Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to slide into her and make her mine. But I can’t. She’s not mine. But she’s in my arms and I can pretend she’s mine for this second. Until she wakes.

Faith’s hand lies flat on my chest and she tentatively lifts her fingers and trails them
from one side of my chest to the other. Her touch shoots straight to my dick and if I wasn’t hard before, I’m like steel now. I bite back a moan.

“Daniel,” she whispers.

“Faith,” I whisper back.

“Are you awake?” she asks. She doesn’t lift her head and she’s still whispering.

“No.” I don’t want to wake up. I want to stay in this dream world where I can keep this girl in my arms.

Her leg shifts and it brushes my dick. “You are awake,” she says quietly. She buries her face in my chest and I can feel her smile against my chest.

I jostle her in my arms. “Shh,” I say. “Let me pretend I’m asleep so I can hold you a little longer.”

She stills. Then her leg hitches a little higher and she presses into me, softening against me. “I’m going back to sleep,” she says.

“That’s probably best,” I say.

Her body is soft and lax against me. I rub her thigh with my fingertips and she purrs against my chest.
I start at the back of her knee and rub all the way up to where my hand slides beneath the boxers to feel the elastic of her panties. I roll to face her, and she breathes against my chest. Her leg is over my hip, and I can feel the moist warmth between her thighs close to my dick. It pulses, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Do you want me to roll in the other direction?” she asks.

Yeah, because having my dick pressed along the crack of her ass would be so much better. “No,” I breathe. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t while
you’re rubbing me.” She giggles against my chest and I pull her in and wrap my arms around her. She scrubs her face into my chest. “What time is it?” she asks.

I glance over at the clock. “Thirteen hundred,” I say.

“Oh, it’s still early.” She yawns.

“Go back to sleep,” I say, nudging her.

“Are you going back to sleep?” she asks.

“I will if you will,” I say.
Let me hold you for a little longer. Please.

She nods, her nose brushing up and down my chest. “Okay,” she breathes.
She tilts her face toward mine. “Did you call to see if we can get tickets for tonight?” she asks.

Oh, shit. “I didn’t.” I move to sit up but her arm wraps around my waist.

“Don’t move yet,” she says. “I like this.”

I do too.  I hug her to me and roll so that she has to go with me. She squeals and the sound makes me laugh. I hook the phone cord with my index finger and pull it toward me.  Without letting her go, I call the concierge to ask about tickets.
He connects me to the ticket agent.

“I’m so sorry,
” the man says. “We don’t have any tickets for tonight’s shows. They’re all sold out.”

My heart falls. “None?” I ask.

“I have some for the three o’clock show,” he says. “But nothing later.”

I mouth over the phone at her. “How quickly can you be ready?”

She grins and scurries to stand up. She’s fucking gorgeous with her hair all messy-tumbled and a crease on her face from where she was laying on my shirt. “Really quickly,” she says. She dances in place and holds her breath as she waits for an answer.

“We’ll take two for the three o’clock,” I say. She squeals and dances in a circle. That’s when I notice her feet. What the fuck is she wearing? She has on knee socks that don’t come close to matching. I grin. I can’t help it. She’s just too fucking adorable.  And she’s hot in my boxers. I admit it.

“I call first dibs on the bathroom!” she says. She grabs her purse and spins to run to get ready. I finish buying the tickets and push the covers back. I can hear the shower running and I get dressed in nice slacks and a button-down shirt. Then I make a call to the concierge because I want to do something nice for her that will surprise her and make her smile.

I’m tying my tie when I hear the bathroom door open. “Can I use your hairbrush?” she asks
through the tiny crack in the door.

“You can use anything I have,” I say.
She opens the door enough to smile at me. Her hair is wrapped in a towel and her face is free of makeup. I have to say, she’s just as hot like this as she was a minute ago.

The door clicks closed behind her. I can hear the hair dryer and I imagine her
getting primped.  I smile. It’s a foreign feeling and my cheeks are aching from it. But it feels good. It feels really good.  I rub my hand across my scruffy cheeks. I’m not going to have time to shave.  I don’t think she’ll care.

The door opens and she steps out. She walks out slowly, like she’s unaware that she’s rocking my fucking world. She was beautiful before, but good God – now she takes my breath. She’s wearing a slinky dress that drapes her curves. It dips low between her breasts with a loop of fabric. It has a slim belt that skirts her hips, right where my hands want to be. I clench my fists and force myself to stay put.

Her dress falls just past her knees and her legs are bare and they go on forever and a fucking day. “Oh, my god,” I breathe.  I sound like a teenage girl.

“Do I look all right?” she asks.

I hold my finger up and make a spin with it, because I want to see all of her. She slowly spins, looking at me from over her shoulder, biting her lower lip. Her back is bare too, and her dress drapes open to just above her bottom. “Yeah,” I say. I gulp. “You look all right.”

I can’t put two words together right now.

She turns her back to me. “Tell me the truth,” she says. “Can you tell I’m not wearing panties?”

Fuck me.

Faith

I feel
stupid, until his jaw falls open and he can’t utter a sound. Then I feel beautiful. And powerful. And utterly wanted.

“Well,” he starts. He stops to gulp. “I didn’t know until you told me. But now it’s all I’ll be able to fucking think about.” His gaze doesn’t leave my ass as he licks his lips. I turn back around to face him and point to his mouth.

“You have a little drool right there,” I say.

He reaches up and swipes a hand below his mouth. “I do not,” he says, looking at the back of his hand. “I might in a second, though.”  He does that spinny thing with his hand again. “Spin around one more time?” he coaxes, but he’s grinning and there’s devilry in his eyes.

I turn very, very slowly and he lets out a groan.

“Seriously,” I say. “Do I look all right for the theater?”

“Well, I was kind of hoping you were going to wear the mismatched socks.”

Heat creeps up my face. “They wouldn’t match my shoes,” I say. I sit down on the edge of the bed and put my shoes on, buckling the thin straps around my ankles. They make me about three inches taller, which means I will now come up to his nose.

“So…” he says. Then he stops and shakes his head.