“And another one bites the dust.” Faith’s best friend, Taylor Sullivan, shook her head in disgust.
Faith gave Taylor her get-serious look. “He undressed my Barbies in second grade.”
“Everyone undressed Barbies in second grade.”
“Not like him. Creepy, I’m telling you.”
“What’s creepy is that you remember how he undressed your Barbies in second grade and that you still hold it against him.” Taylor used her wineglass to point at Faith. “That’s creepy. You’re not looking for forever here, Faith. You’re looking for a date. You’re looking for casual. You’re looking for a—”
Faith plugged her ears. “La-la-la-la-la.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Nothing any guy did last month, let alone in second grade, matters right now. What matters right now is you getting a life.”
“Hey, I have a life. Plenty of it, thank you very much. And I have the bills and headaches to prove it.” Faith picked up her second glass of Jingle Jangle punch, longing to escape the stress. For a night. An hour. Hell, she’d settle for a moment at this point. “In fact, in my opinion, I have a little too much life.”
“Too much bad and not enough good. Which is why—”
“Which is why”—Faith cut her off—“what I really need is more of this.” She savored the delicious blend of juice, berries, vodka, and Grand Marnier, licking the sugar from the rim off her lips with a hum of pleasure. “And less of you reminding me of exactly what I don’t need—more trouble.”
“Why do you equate men with trouble?”
Faith laughed and focused on her friend. Taylor looked pretty tonight, just a touch of makeup brightening her eyes and cheeks, her dark hair falling in loose waves to her collarbone. She looked so young and so fresh and so happy. Happiness that came from Taylor’s son, Caleb. And even though the boy also brought Faith an incredible amount of joy as her godson, she was too aware that all her own family was gone.
To Taylor’s question, Faith smiled and shrugged. “Show me one person who’s given me a different perspective.”
Taylor’s angelic face compressed in a silly frown. “You know what you need for Christmas this year?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“You need one great big O, that’s what.”
Taylor’s declaration took Faith off guard, and she burst out laughing. She didn’t disagree with Taylor. Wouldn’t even argue if a man worthy of the honor came along, because the truth was, Faith could use quite a few orgasms to make up for the years without a man in her life. But the fact still remained…
“You’re just trying to get out of finding dating material in this crowd,” Taylor teased, “because you know you can’t.”
“You didn’t say anything about dating material,” Faith sassed back. “You said a guy who wasn’t trouble, and I can too find that in this crowd.” She let out a huff and glanced around the bar.
Faith did the same, laughing at their tipsy argument. Luckily, they could both walk home. In the crowd milling around the bar, Faith saw the same people she always saw in Holly, local residents. Plus a few people who had moved away and come back to visit family. A few tourists here and there, mostly older couples. A couple of kids home on college break.
Despite Taylor’s belief that Faith never even entertained the idea of dating again, she did indeed think about it often. Actually, what she thought about more often than dating was just plain old sex. But even that was impossible with the mess in her life right now. Besides, she hadn’t crossed paths with anyone remotely interesting who also happened to be available.
“Not all guys are trouble,” Taylor insisted. “How about Tom? Tom and Mildred have been together forty-eight years. He can’t be trouble if she’s stayed with him through six kids and fifteen grandkids.”
Faith slipped off her stool, turned from the bar, leaned back against the mahogany, and scanned the direction of Taylor’s gaze. But instead of finding Tom, a retired banker in town, her gaze stumbled on a man near the door. Someone she didn’t recognize. A big man in a ball cap, sliding out of a parka. She couldn’t see his whole face beneath the cap’s brim, but he looked young, about her age, and had a nice jawline. The body he unveiled beneath his jacket was even better, stretching his long-sleeved tee with the kind of muscle Faith hadn’t seen outside television or magazines in years. The kind that made sparks tingle low in her gut. He definitely wasn’t from here. She would have noticed that body in her store.
“And Adam,” Taylor continued while Faith scanned the stranger from his wide chest to his snow-covered boots. “He’s a great guy. So is his brother, Dale. And their cousin, Tim, who lives in the next county—”
“Is a serial cheater.” Faith forced her gaze off the stranger and refocused on Taylor with a smile.
“And how would you know that?”
“Hardware store, remember? Guys forget I’m a girl. They talk to me and around me like I’m one of their buddies. And I know Tim’s been off and on with Kelly for months because he keeps cheating on her. Something both Dale and Adam encourage. And even though Tim has a son by Kelly, Dale and Adam keep telling him he should leave ‘the nagging bitch’”—she put the words in air quotes—“and move on. Don’t try to tell me those men aren’t trouble.”
Taylor faced her and leaned against the bar again. “That’s your problem. You know too much.”
“I don’t consider that a problem. I consider not knowing a problem.”
“You never give anyone a chance, Faith.”
She looked down at her drink with half her mind wondering who Sexy at the door belonged to. And wishing she could give him a chance. A big-old-O-for-Christmas chance.
“I’m not looking for trouble again. Been there, done that.” She really couldn’t face being left again either. But that was something she kept to herself. “What I am looking for and what I really need for Christmas is some relief from these money worries. The best thing you could do for me would be to sit your butt in a chair and tell me what you’ve got going on YouTube and how I can tap into that.”
Taylor heaved an exhausted sigh.
When she didn’t start talking, Faith said, “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to ask Caleb. Do you want your eleven-year-old teaching me how to make a YouTube video? ’Cause I know he knows how.”
“Don’t you dare. He’s already too obsessed with the computer as it is.” She put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll talk shop on one condition.”
“Oh God. What?”
“You flirt with the next guy who comes up to you.”
“Flirt? No, uh-uh. I don’t flirt. I’ve never flirted.” She waved the topic away and turned the conversation back around. Taylor had developed her hobby of blogging and creating YouTube videos into a full-fledged, lucrative career. It wasn’t something Faith ever believed she’d consider doing, but right now, she was looking at all possibilities.
“I’ve been seriously thinking about doing a little of what you’re doing with the blogging and videos, but with segments on things I know about, like hardware and fix-it projects. You know, repairing a hole in drywall, fixing a leaky faucet, that sort of thing. I’ve researched it online and I see them out there, but they’re horrible. I could do it way better, but figuring out where to start is overwhelming. I’ve never talked on camera, I don’t know how to target an audience, I barely even use Facebook. And I sure can’t afford professional equipment.”
She took a breath, set down her drink, and rubbed her temples. “Even with the increase in holiday sales, the store isn’t going to keep me afloat. And if it’s not keeping me afloat, it won’t keep anyone afloat, which means I wouldn’t be able to sell it. I need to do something before I lose everything.” She lifted her gaze to Taylor and rested her chin in her hands. “So, what do you think? Are the videos worth my time?”
Taylor exhaled, but the softened look in her eyes gave Faith a little hope. “You are exasperating.”
She smiled. “I’m aware.”
“Yes, I think it’s worth the time. There are a lot of DIY videos out there, but like you said, most of them suck. If you do it right, handle your links and sponsorships right, build a following, you could eventually make a significant income.”
Relief loosened Faith’s shoulders, and she turned her brightest smile on Taylor. “I don’t know anything about links or sponsorships, but I really like the sound of ‘significant income.’ So you’ll show me the ropes?”
“I’ll make you a deal. You give one guy a chance, and I’ll get you started.”
Faith’s expression fell. “That’s blackmail. Friends don’t blackmail friends.”
“Excuse me, Miss Nicholas.”
The man’s voice rolled over her from behind. Deep, slow, confident. Without even looking, she was sure it belonged to Sexy at the door. Faith narrowed her eyes on Taylor. “Did you set this up?”
“You wish.” She widened her eyes a fraction and tipped her head slightly, a gesture Faith read as take a look.
Frustration burned. She was a grown woman, dammit, and she could handle her own relationships—or lack thereof.
She turned—and faced Sexy. Faith could see his face beneath the cap now, and he was sinfully scrumptious in more ways than she could even sum up in the moment. Like his voice, the man exuded confidence. He had light eyes, thick dark lashes, and full lips, quirked in a half grin.
A grin that told her he also knew just how attractive he was. She’d certainly seen that look enough to know. Only wished she’d learned to identify it a lot sooner than she had. Figured the only guy who’d caught her eye in…forever…would be full of himself.
“I’m buying my own drinks tonight,” she said, hoping she sounded more congenial than she felt. “And I’m not interested in going out, but thanks anyway.”
Faith slid back onto her stool with a pinch of guilt in her gut. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so rude. She was clearly too overwhelmed to even think about having a man in her life.
She opened her mouth to tell Taylor she was going home, but Sexy spoke first.
“Actually, I wasn’t going to offer you a drink or ask for a date. But thanks for saving me the trouble—in the event either of those ever crossed my mind.”
He had just the hint of an accent. A bizarre tang she’d never heard before—a little Carolina, a little…Jersey? Boston? Wisconsin?
Faith swiveled again, meeting the man’s gaze squarely, caught between petulance and anger. He was leaning on the bar, his head turned toward her. And his grin had grown, creating crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Damn, those were pretty eyes. His hat bore the New York Mets logo, and dark hair snuck out from under the edges.
“Just a heads-up, handsome,” she said. “If you decide to ask any woman out around here, you’d better ditch the hat. No self-respecting Carolina girl dates a Mets fan.”
He huffed a laugh, and a real smile beamed across his face. One that made Faith’s stomach twist and flip.
“That so?” he asked.
“That’s so.”
“Who would a self-respecting Carolina girl date?”
“Atlanta Braves fan, of course. Ask anyone.”
His gaze darted to Taylor. “That right? Are you a Braves fan?”
“Hell yes,” Taylor confirmed.
“Duly noted.” He nodded and returned his gaze to Faith. “Miss Nicholas, if I promise not to wear my Mets hat in your presence again, would you tell me how I can find the woman running your father’s hardware store?”
She lifted one brow. No one called it her father’s store anymore. “Can I ask why?”
He chuckled and turned his gaze to the bar. “Well, see, my mama sent me to pick up our family Christmas tree.” He turned his gaze back on her with his panty-melting charisma ramped up to full power. His eyes were hot, his voice warm. “I was at the hardware store ten minutes before close, but it was already shut down tight. We’ve got a tradition, a big dinner where all the kids and grandkids and nieces and nephews and cousins all get together and decorate the tree. And, I tell you, if I go home without it…” He sucked air between his teeth with a shake of his head and his gaze lowered in a slow sweep of her face to hold on her mouth. “I’m as good as skinned.”
“Aw,” Taylor said behind Faith, her friend’s voice signaling she’d fallen for the story like a rock in a river. “How sweet.”
Faith laughed and straightened to put a little more distance between her and this tricked-out version of her ex. “You can certainly spin a tale that pulls on the heartstrings, and I imagine most women fall for you hook, line, and sinker.” She paused long enough for him to lift his brows in a what-can-I-say expression, then continued. “But I work with men all day, every day. Which means I can see right through bullshit. Everything you said after picking up your family Christmas tree was a big fat lie. You weren’t there ten minutes early, and there’s no family get-together tonight. But the part about getting skinned might be true. Otherwise, I doubt a city boy like you would be wasting your time chasing down some country bumpkin to get a Christmas tree.”
His brow fell. His smile faded into an irritated smirk.
Bingo. She’d been guessing at about forty percent of that information, but maybe she was a better judge of character than she thought.
Faith picked up her punch, finished the drink, then licked the last bit of sugar from the rim before meeting his gaze again. “Now, why don’t you start again, and try the truth this time.”
He repositioned himself, facing her with an annoyed sigh. “My mama looked at the kitchen clock, realized it was five minutes till six, and rushed me out the door to get the tree before the store closed. And even though I did get there a few minutes before six, the store was locked up tight, so it did close early. And yes, the skinning part was true, which means one of two things for me.”
Oh, she liked this version of the man much better. And he was more entertaining than arguing with Taylor, so she dropped her chin into her hand and indulged him. “I’m listening.”
“One—you tell me how to get ahold of the girl who works the shop so I can try to sweet-talk her into letting my tree out of hock, or two…” He heaved another long-suffering sigh. “I pull a saw from my daddy’s garage, hike into the wilderness in the dark, and cut one down.”
Faith’s brows shot up. “You’re that afraid of your mama?”
He winced and huffed out a you-got-me chuckle. “I’m that afraid of my mama.”
Faith broke into laughter.
Taylor pushed to her feet. “Well, I’ve got to get home. My babysitter’s parents don’t like her out too late.” She leaned in to hug Faith and whispered, “Get yourself a Christmas present, dammit” in her ear.
When she turned to leave without even saying hello or good-bye to Sexy, Faith called after her, “Do you still need me to watch Caleb Saturday?”
“Uh, no, no,” she said in a way that told Faith she was lying so Sexy would believe she was available. “You are free as a bird.” And she blew a kiss before slipping into her jacket and out the front door.
Faith exhaled and faced temptation again. Sexy had that freakin’ adorable lopsided grin on his face. And it was less arrogant now. More…interested?
Pffft.
More interested in getting his goddamned tree from the store, maybe. Guys like this weren’t interested in her. Not for real. She was glad she was tipsy, or that very true realization would have stung. Especially when he stood so close, his spicy, masculine scent turned her blood to lava.
She took another drink from her Jangle punch—no point in letting good alcohol go to waste—and asked, “What city did you slide in from?”
He frowned, then looked down at himself. After a second, he met her gaze again. “There is nothing about me that says city.”
She laughed, gesturing in a circle at him, and said, “All…this. Everything from that Marmot parka to those L.L.Bean boots says city boy coming home for Christmas.”
He leaned back, one brow cocked. “These boots aren’t from L.L.Bean.”
“No?” she asked, smiling at the way he took the slight in stride.
“No. They’re Cabela’s.”
“Ah, well, I stand corrected. I’ve gotta warn you, everyone only thinks the girl working the store is sweet because of all that sugar on the outside. But I know her, and I’d suggest you prepare yourself to go cut yourself a tree.”
“And I have a knack with sweet talk,” he said, turning on some attitude. “Why don’t you point me in her direction, and we’ll just see how it works out.”
She chuckled and lifted her drink to finish it off. Setting it down with a clink on the lacquered wood, she said, “Don’t bother. I’m the girl running the shop, and sweet talk bounces off me like bullets off Kevlar.”
A mix of confusion and humor quirked his mouth again. “Bullets don’t bounce off Kevlar.”
“They do when you’ve had two glasses of Kelly’s Jangle punch.”
That made him laugh, and the low, rich sound of it tingled through her belly.
“But, you’re in luck. I happen to be on my way home, so I’ll get the tree for you.” She slid off the stool, and her legs brushed his. He made no move to pull back, and Faith had just enough liquid courage in her to stand her ground and meet his gaze directly. “But here’s the deal, handsome, and there will be no negotiation. I’ll open up long enough for you to pick up the tree, period. There will be no other transactions. No stand, no ornaments, no tinsel. You’re getting nothing but the tree. Are we clear?”
He tipped his head. “I don’t know, that tinsel, that could be a deal breaker.”
“Smart-ass.” She pointed a finger at his head. “And no Mets hat.”
He rolled his eyes but swiped it off his head, stashed it behind his back, and grinned.
His hair was black, cut short, but growing out of the style and curling at the edges. His teeth were straight and bright. His cheeks were dotted with two shallow dimples.
Damn, he was adorable. Her heart tripped.
“Better?” he asked.
She gave a brisk nod, as if he didn’t make her stomach flutter. “Better.”
Much better.
Much, much better.
At the door, she reached for her jacket where it hung on a peg on the wall. Sexy plucked up the parka first and held it open for her. Faith stood there staring at the lining of her jacket for a long stupefied second. It had been so long since a man had done anything sweet for her, she almost didn’t know what to do.
Sexy shook it to get her attention. “I know it’s a short walk, but you’re gonna want it.”
Faith turned and slipped her arms into her jacket. “Thank you.”
She slung her purse over her shoulder and replaced her barriers like a force field for the one-block stroll.
Outside, the air hit Faith like a snowball, but that didn’t do much to straighten out the buzz in her head. And that was fine. Good, in fact. She needed every distraction to get her through this holiday. The man beside her was a great way to start. And for the first time, Taylor’s idea of Faith stepping back into the world of men held a spark of appeal.
“I really appreciate you saving my ass,” Sexy said. “Can I take you to dinner this week to say thank you?”
She gave him a what-the-heck grin and caught sight of a Range Rover parked in front of her store with a fine layer of snow on it. Sexy’s, no doubt. “You can say thank you right now.”
“But that wouldn’t be near as fun.”
She paused at the front door to the hardware store. After pulling her keys from her pocket, Faith worked the lock. “How long have you been in town?”
“I don’t know, couple of hours. Why?”
“Because you sure work fast.”
“I won’t be here long,” he said. “And I know a good thing when I see it.”
Somehow she was sure he’d meant “I know what I want when I see it” but was smart enough to change up the words. Faith still heard it in his tone.
She turned back to him and met his eyes. “And do you always get what you want?”
His grin grew. “I try my damnedest.”
“I’ll just bet you do.”
Faith tried not to hold the man’s confidence against him as she pushed the door open and wandered toward the cash register. The original circa 1870 wood floors creaked beneath her feet, and she let the familiarity of the store curl around her as she picked up the box holding will-call tags.
“What name is the tree under?” she asked.
“You don’t know me?”
She glanced over her shoulder with a ready smile for the surprise in his voice. “Nope, sure don’t.”
He lifted a brow as if he didn’t believe her. “Saber?”
“Sa—” All the nuances she’d picked up on over the last fifteen minutes clicked with the name, and Faith started laughing. “Oh God. Of course.”
He was a Saber son. It didn’t matter which of the three sons Sexy turned out to be, they were all the same—wealthy and handsome and full of themselves. One of them had been in her class, but she couldn’t remember which. And she didn’t care. The men now had a reputation for rolling into town to visit their parents a couple of times a year from their fancy city digs. They flashed their money and their shiny toys. Shot those pretty smiles around town until they got laid. Then rolled right back out again.
“Oh yeah,” she said on a sigh of both disappointment and self-deprecation. “It all makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?” he asked.
“Nothing that would interest you.” She carried the tag toward the back door leading to her enclosed patio. “Your mama’s tree is right out here.”
She pushed open the door and breathed deep of that amazing fresh-cut pine-tree scent. After checking the tags on a few trees, she held up the correct one like a referee in a boxing match. “And we have a winner.”
Saber laughed, and the smile that lit his face would have taken Faith’s breath away if she’d been sober. Or if she hadn’t discovered he was a Saber.
“What were you drinking at the bar again?” he asked.
She reached through the branches to grab the trunk, then let her body weight help her pull it upright. “Only the best holiday concoction anywhere.”
He reached into the tree just above her grasp and took hold of the trunk. “I’ll say.”
Suddenly he was close again. Close enough to feel his body heat. Close enough to smell his spicy scent mixed with fresh pine. And the whole idea of a great big Christmas O was wearing down her common sense.
She released the tree and glanced up to meet his eyes. And he was looking right at her. Right into her eyes. As if he was fully present. Not checking her out. Not already getting busy with her in his head. But right there, in the moment, with her. And he looked expectant, as if he were waiting for…something.
Since she was way out of her element, Faith took a step back. “I’m assuming a big, strong man like you can get this itty-bitty tree to your car on your own.” She sidestepped him to cross the patio and unlock the gate. “I’m not in any shape to be throwing trees right now.”
Sexy hefted the twelve-foot noble fir—one of Faith’s largest and most expensive trees, wrapped safely in orange netting—onto his shoulder in one smooth motion.
Faith’s mouth dropped open. “Well, there’s one for the books. In all the years I’ve been selling trees, I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone handle one quite like that.”
He sauntered toward her and paused just inside the gate—and inside her personal space. A tingle of awareness that had quickly become familiar spread through Faith again. And before she knew how it had happened, her gaze slipped to his mouth. Her mind to how his lips would feel against hers. It had been so long since she’d kissed a man. So damn long.
Maybe there was something to testing the waters again. Taking the old libido on a spin with someone who rolled out of town as easily as he rolled in. Kissing without commitment? Dating without promises? Sex for sheer pleasure?
“It’s all in the setup and balance.” His voice, low and soft, dragged her from the luscious thoughts, but the heat in his eyes hinted that his mind was headed in a similar direction. “If you’ve got that right, even you could do this.”
That made her laugh, and the alcohol turned it into a giggle. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ll teach you how if you want.” The insinuation in those words quickened Faith’s heart. His low, smooth tone created a heaviness between her legs. “Imagine the reaction of all the tough guys in town when you throw a baby like this on your shoulder and carry it to their car.” His gaze took on a little more heat. “Let me take you to dinner, and I’ll share the trick. Maybe I’ll even share a couple more.”
Oh wow. Everything inside her was yelling yes, yes, yes.
But she’d had too much common sense ruling her world for far too long for her to simply jump.
She lowered her gaze and shook her head. “Thanks anyway.”
When his feet didn’t move toward his car, she glanced at his face again. He was looking at her with a little bit of dismay. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
She wondered if the alcohol had affected her memory. This time of year, so many family members came to town, so many previous residents returned to visit. Normally, she had a good memory. Remembering was good for business. But…
Her brows lifted. “You’re a Saber.”
“I’m Grant.”
He said it as if it should mean something. Though she had no idea what. “Nice to meet you, Grant. I’m Faith. I’m also beat, and I have another long day ahead of me tomorrow. Say hello to Hazel for me.”
He chuckled as if he found her amusing, lifted his brows, and said, “Grant Saber?”
“Yeah. I got that. Grant plus Saber would equal Grant Saber. I haven’t had that much to drink.” And she found the fact that he expected his name to be on the lips of everyone in town both comical and annoying. “Good night, Grant Saber.”
He huffed a sound of humorous dismay and started for the street, but before he passed through the gate, he paused beside her. “Will you let me walk you home?”
That sweet pang tugged inside her again and this back and forth was driving her mad. “I am home.” When Grant frowned and glanced toward the store, Faith added, “I live in the apartment above the store.”
“Ah…” He steadied the tree on his shoulder with one hand and pulled something from his pocket with the other. “Here’s my number. I won’t be in town long, so use it while you can.”
That did it. Now she was ticked.
Faith curled her fingers around the chain link in the gate and ignored his card. With her gaze directly on his, she offered a firm “No, thank you. Good night.”
“You’re going to want to call me when you figure out who I am.”
“You’re lucky I have alcohol in my system, or I wouldn’t be acting this nice.” That and she was too damned tired to get pissed over his arrogance. “Please leave so I can find my pillow.”
He shot her one of those I’m-so-not-taking-you-seriously grins. With his gaze holding hers, he reached down to slip the card into the back pocket of her jeans. The move brought his lips within inches of hers. His warmth and scent flooded the space around her, and she felt a fundamental shift in her body. One that made her grip the gate harder to keep herself steady. His touch shot a tingle of sensation across her backside.
“When you’re ready,” he murmured, his voice quiet and thick, “call me. For a drink, dinner, dessert. Call me for…anything…you need.” His fingers slipped across her jaw in a whisper. “Sleep tight, angel.”
Then he stepped onto the sidewalk and strode to an SUV at the curb like nothing had happened, while Faith struggled to secure a gate she’d locked at least a thousand times over the years. His “dessert” and “anything” had hit the nerves he’d intended, and desire shivered through her belly. The “angel” touched a different place, the same one affected when he’d held her jacket.
Taylor was definitely right about one thing—both of those places in Faith had been neglected for far too long.
When she finally locked the gate, she glanced up and found him tying the tree to that shiny Range Rover. One so new it still carried the dealer’s plates. She huffed and shook her head. Filling those needs by allowing herself to be used by a rich, arrogant man was not going to help her in any way.
Except to get laid.
Maybe give her that momentary escape she craved.
Possibly distract her through this painful, lonely holiday.
While also giving her some much-needed companionship, male contact, long-denied pleasure…
Faith sighed as she retraced her steps to lock the interior doors and turn off the lights, then took the stairs to her apartment above the store, thinking about Grant Saber’s hot little smile. Those full lips. That tall, muscular body.
And a thread of apprehension snuck in as she reached the door to her apartment. “What the hell would I do with all that man?”
She let all the stresses of the day drain away as she wandered into her living room, hoping the alcohol would help her get a good night’s sleep for a change.
With her purse and her jacket on the love seat, Faith paused at the windows and drew the blinds against the dark night still sparkling with a light snow. When she glanced toward the street, she found Grant speaking with Dwayne Urich. Since the death of his wife, Dwayne would talk to anyone who would listen for as long as they would listen. Faith gave Grant five minutes before he cut Dwayne off. Someone that self-important wouldn’t waste his time with Dwayne’s lonely rambles.
But as she counted down the minutes, Faith realized Grant wasn’t just listening to Dwayne, he was laughing. He was engaging. The two were having a lively conversation. She had to admit, she hadn’t seen Dwayne as animated in a very long time.
After ten minutes, Grant was still leaning against his car, hands in his pockets, snow layering his hair and jacket. The sight reminded her of those last days with her father and how he’d taken such joy in the visits from his closest friends.
And her anger toward the stranger’s arrogant edge softened. “Maybe you’re not all bad, Grant Saber.”
