by Beth Andrews
“I…I wouldn’t have…”
“I know you don’t think much of me—”
“That’s not true!” she said, appalled.
“—but I hadn’t realized you actually believed I was the type of guy to take advantage of someone in that way. What really bugs the hell out of me is you thinking so little of yourself that you’d make the offer in the first place.”
She winced. “That wasn’t… I don’t feel that way. About either of us.”
But she had thought about herself that way once upon a time. Had thought all she could offer a man were her looks, her sex appeal and her performance in bed. She’d kept men interested by becoming who they wanted her to be. She’d used men, yes, but it was only recently that she’d realized how she’d allowed herself to be used in return.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “It was a huge error in judgment on my part. I’m not even sure what I was thinking.”
“I’m not that guy, Faith.”
Her heart raced. “Wha-what guy?”
“Your ex-husband or whoever it was who hurt you. I’m not him,” Nick said, enunciating each word. “So if you ever want my help, just ask me.” He leaned forward, his dark eyes hooded. “But don’t ever try to play me again.”
After he left, Faith slumped on the bench and let her head fall back against the stone wall. Then she thought about all of the dirt and grime on the wall and quickly sat up. So much for her brilliant plan to befriend Nick in the hopes of getting him to care about her and Austin. To protect them. What better person to have in her corner than a well-respected cop? Sure, it was risky, but she had to believe Nick wouldn’t arrest her, or worse, send Austin back to his father, if he found out the truth.
Not once he discovered what her husband had done.
But she was blowing it.
She’d been so focused on getting what she wanted, she’d forgotten the number one rule she used to live by: know your target.
Elbows on her knees, she rested her head in her hands. Nick had a strong sense of honor and he didn’t use women. He respected them. Maybe because he’d been raised by a single mom, and had one sister who was a single mother, as well. He took his responsibilities to those he cared about seriously, and as cop, had devoted his life to taking care of the town he obviously loved.
She watched him throw the ball first to Austin and then to Trevor, offering guidance and words of praise in equal measure. He was patient. Loyal. And because all that made him sound like a harmless puppy, when his anger at her today had proved he was anything but, she added dangerous to the list. Dangerous was a good thing. As long as he was on her side.
Now all she had to do was find a way to use all of his traits to her advantage.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A WEEK LATER, Faith set her folded sweatshirt on the bottom wooden bleacher before sitting on it. She searched the crowded field, relaxing when she spotted Austin warming up with Trevor and the only girl on the team, a redheaded pixie named Melyssa. When Faith and Austin had gotten in the car to come to today’s practice, he’d told her she didn’t have to stay, but she’d convinced him she enjoyed watching him. She hoped he continued to believe that was the only reason she sat on the hard bleachers for two hours, three times a week, and not because she wasn’t ready to leave him alone yet.
Some days she doubted she’d ever be ready.Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she scanned the field for Nick. Just to see if he was there. It wasn’t as if she sought him out at every practice. She pursed her lips and lowered her hand as she spied him at the opening in the fence by first base, talking with Melyssa’s mother, a long-legged strawberry blonde.
Okay, so maybe Faith did seek him out. Ever since that first practice, when he’d been upset with her, she’d been trying to get them back to where they’d been before she’d miscalculated and come on to him at the police station. And she’d finally made some progress.
As if sensing her watching him, Nick lifted his head and met her eyes. While he didn’t smile, he no longer scowled at her every time he saw her, either. And he even lifted a hand in a wave, causing the blonde to glance over her shoulder to see who had stolen his attention.
Faith waved in response, but Nick was speaking to the blonde again. Whatever he said must have been hilarious because she tipped her head back—the better to show off her long, graceful neck—and laughed, a deep throaty sound that had both of the assistant coaches glancing her way. Then she laid her hand on Nick’s arm, pressing her slim body oh-so-subtly against his. Nothing overt. Nothing that would draw the attention of the kids or tip off the few adults who helped with the team, but Faith knew all the moves.
Heck, she’d perfected the moves in high school.
The blonde was interested in Nick. And since he didn’t set her away and glower at her—as he’d done with Faith at the police station—it looked as if he might be interested, too.
Faith felt a twinge of jealousy but she shoved it aside. Not her concern, she told herself as she raised her book and looked blindly at the words before her. It wasn’t as if she really wanted Nick for herself.
But she couldn’t fault the other woman for her taste in men, either. By all appearances, Nick was a prime catch. Not only was he honorable, but he went above and beyond for his family and friends. He was patient with Austin and the other boys on the team, never raising his voice and always giving positive reinforcement. And last practice, when one of the fathers yelled at his son over a missed catch, Nick had stepped in and made it clear in that low-key way of his that he wouldn’t tolerate anyone berating the kids for any reason.
If she didn’t know better, Faith would think he was too good to be true.
She snorted. No man was that wonderful. Hadn’t she thought her husband was the man of her dreams? Part of it—what had initially drawn her to him—had been his wealth, yes. But she’d also been impressed by his philanthropy and how he’d reached out to underprivileged children.
Until she’d learned the real reason why he set up the after-school programs for inner city youth. How it fed his sickness.
I’m not that guy. Nick’s voice floated through her mind. Her fingers tightened, bending the cover of the book back. No, he wasn’t her husband, but that didn’t mean she could trust him.
“That’s my favorite author.” The willowy blonde who’d been talking with Nick blocked the sun as she sat down next to Faith. “That’s a great romance, and wait until you read the second in the series. Pure magic. I’m a sucker for a happy ending.” She grinned and motioned to Nick. “And there’s a guy who would be perfect hero material.”
Faith stared at the woman. “Excuse me?”
The blonde laughed. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re about the only woman in town who hasn’t. I’m Tracy, by the way,” she added, smiling and holding out her hand.
Faith closed the book and set it on her lap before shaking Tracy’s hand. “Faith Lewis.”
“Nice to meet you. Nick suggested I ask if you’d be interested in volunteering to work the concession stand for a few of the home games.”
“I’ve never worked a—”
Tracy waved her hand. “It’s easy. I’ll schedule you to work with me. I’ve been running it for the past two years. How about the first game, next Friday?”
“Uh…sure. I guess that’s okay.”
“Great. Let me put you on the schedule.” Tracy took a paper and pen out of her purse and wrote Faith’s name on a spreadsheet.
Instead of going on her way, Tracy then crossed her long, toned legs—showcased perfectly in a pair of bright green shorts. “You haven’t been in town long, have you?”
“A few months,” Faith replied, feeling like a hot mess next to this woman with her cute halter top and expertly applied makeup. Faith pulled her shoulders back, but not even excellent posture could make her look better in her baggy capri pants and boxy top. It was times like this that she wondered if she was biting off her nose to spite her face.
Ni
ck called the kids together at the pitcher’s mound. “He’s so great with them, isn’t he?” Tracy commented with a sigh.
Faith made a noncommittal sound.
“I heard you two were seeing each other.”
“What?” Faith gaped at her. “No. I mean, we went out. Nick, Austin and I went out for pizza. But that was just a…friendly dinner.”
“So you’re not involved?”
Faith had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from snapping that her and Nick’s relationship—or lack thereof—wasn’t any of Tracy’s business. But that would be playing right into the woman’s hands. She was fishing for information, sizing Faith up, seeing if she was competition.
“Nick and I are…” What? Friends? Not even close. “We hardly know each other,” she answered honestly.
“That’s too bad,” Tracy said, the calculation in her eyes belying her words. “Well, I’d better get going.” She rose to her feet. “I have to pick up a few groceries before practice ends. I’ll see you next Friday.”
Tracy sauntered past the dugout, trailing her fingers along the chain-link fence behind home plate, where Nick was tossing the ball into the air and hitting it to the kids in the field. She said something that had him grinning in response.
Her stomach churning, Faith went back to her book. Why shouldn’t Tracy be interested in Nick? He deserved a woman who wasn’t afraid to be seen with him, and who trusted him with her child. Who didn’t have secrets that could jeopardize his career. He deserved better than a woman who only wanted to use him for her own personal gain.
He deserved so much better than her.
NICK PRESSED HIS PALMS against his gritty eyes. “You can’t go eight months without balancing your checkbook.”
“Why not?” Britney asked as she touched up her makeup at one of the stations in the salon. “There’s plenty of money in there, isn’t there?”“That’s not the point.” He tilted his head to one side, cracking his neck. As soon as he’d finished his shift at work, he’d come over to the salon, not even taking time to change out of his uniform. For the past two hours, he’d been hunched over the mess that was Brit’s Snips’s finances, breathing shallowly so as not to inhale too much of the toxic scents in the air. “You have to take your business seriously,” he continued. “If you can’t handle the bookkeeping, you need to hire it out.”
She faced him, a tube of lipstick in her hand, a quizzical expression on her face. “Why would I hire someone when you can do it for me?”
Why indeed.
Faith came into the room from the back, carrying a broom. Not even giving them a glance, she began sweeping up the cut hair from her last customer.
Nick lifted an envelope. “This bill from J. H. Thompson says it’s the third notice for hair supplies. Didn’t you pay them last month?”
Applying the lipstick, Britney shrugged.
Where was the panic she’d displayed earlier when she’d called him at work, telling him her favorite supplier had threatened to shut her off? Where were the tears and pleas for help that she’d shown when he’d first arrived and stared, dumbfounded, at the piles of paperwork—bills, both paid and unpaid. Invoices and orders and receipts. He’d even come across a torn copy of Brit’s New Year’s resolutions.
First on the list had been Get Organized.
“You can’t ignore this and hope it goes away,” he said. “Now come over here so—”
A motorcycle engine revved outside, vibrating the floor.
Britney whirled around. “There’s Michael!” She tossed the lipstick into her tiny purse, snapped it shut and gave herself a last once-over in the mirror. She must’ve decided her shorts were indeed short enough and her top cut low enough, because she tossed her curly hair and grinned. “I’ll see you both later.”
“What?” Nick stood so fast his chair flew back and banged into the wall. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Britney stopped at the door. “Didn’t I tell you?” she asked, all big-eyed innocence, as if she was still seven and could wrap him around her finger. “Michael and I are taking a ride along the coast and then having a romantic picnic on the beach. He suggested it for our two-month anniversary. Isn’t that so sweet?”
“Adorable. Too bad you need to stay here and get your checkbook straightened out.”
The motorcycle’s engine revved again. Brit’s lower lip stuck out in a pout. “But, Nicky, I can’t. Michael has had this planned for days. I can’t disappoint him.”
The headache he’d been fighting since he’d sat down to clean up her mess intensified. “Then why did you ask me to come over?”
“I didn’t think it would take this long. Why don’t you just leave it and I’ll look at it again tomorrow? I’m sure once I’ve had a chance to talk to Gene, the salesman at Thompson, everything will be all right.” She hurried over to Nick on her high-heeled sandals and kissed his cheek. “Love you. Bye. Bye, Faith.”
Faith’s response was lost as Britney raced out the door. Through the large windows, Nick watched his baby sister throw herself at the loser on the bike. Her boyfriend wrapped his arm around her waist, lifted her off the ground and kissed her.
A low growl rose in Nick’s throat.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Faith said.
He blinked and realized she’d crossed the room and was flipping the Open sign on the door to Closed.
“If you can somehow sense I’m contemplating murder, I’ll deny it,” he said.
She turned the lock. “Actually, I figured you wanted to punch the guy. Or maybe cut off that straggly ponytail. I have to admit, I get that urge every time I see him.”
“Get your scissors. I’ll hold him down.”
“Too late,” she said, as Michael shot away from the curb, Britney on the back of the bike, her arms wrapped around his skinny waist, her cheek pressed against his back.
Nick took a step forward, ready to chase the bike like some crazed dog. “Did you see that? She’s not even wearing a helmet. I’ve told her time and time again she has to wear a helmet.” He tapped his fist against his thigh. “On second thought, forget your scissors,” Nick murmured, imagining yanking motorcycle boy off his bike by his hair.
“It’s not Michael’s fault that Britney doesn’t wear a helmet. Or that she’s with him at all. She’s an adult. She makes her own choices.”
“He’s unemployed, has questionable hygiene and a police record. He’s trouble.”
“Yes, he is. And hopefully Britney will figure that out before she gets in too deep. But again, no one is forcing her to be with him.”
For the first time that day, Nick allowed himself to really look at Faith. Then wished he hadn’t, when he noticed the way her soft pink top clung to her curves. “Speaking from experience?” he asked, more harshly than he’d intended.
She walked over to the desk and sorted through the bottles of nail polish on display, organizing them by color. “I’ve known my fair share of Michaels in my life. The bad boy has appeal but it doesn’t last.”
Appeal? Nick grabbed the chair and sat back down. He’d never understand why smart women fell for guys who weren’t any good for them. “I hope Britney realizes that soon.”
Picking up a pen, he tapped it against the desk as he tried to figure out if an invoice dated three months ago had been paid.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Faith said.
He stopped tapping. “Sorry. Bad habit.”
“Not that. You shouldn’t be doing Britney’s work for her. She needs to learn to deal with her own problems. And she won’t if you keep riding to her rescue.”
“I’m doing her a favor.” He matched up the amount on the invoice with a check listed in the register, marked the invoice paid and put it in the To Be Filed pile. “Not saving her from a runaway train.”
“Look, I like Britney,” Faith said, almost as if the fact surprised her, “but you’re not helping her by doing everything for her. Or by rushing over every time she or one of
your other sisters calls with a new problem they need you to solve.”
Dropping the pen, he leaned back and studied her. “You don’t have any family, do you?”
Her lips thinned. “You mean do I have anyone who can fix all my mistakes for me?” She shook her head. “I handle my own problems, thanks just the same.”
“No, I mean do you have anyone you can count on?” he asked quietly, sensing her issues with him helping his family had more to do with her own reluctance to accept help. “Someone who’ll be there for you when things get bad?”
“All I’m saying is that maybe Britney would accept more responsibility if she actually had to face the consequences of her actions.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t get it. Britney—all of my sisters and my mom, too—turn to me when they have a problem. Just as I turn to them when I need help. You think I’m some sort of pushover—”
“I didn’t say—”
“But the truth is,” he continued, standing up, “in my family, we’re there for each other. That’s what families do. That’s what I do.”
For a long moment Faith stared at him, as if he’d said they eat their young in his family. “You really are one of the good guys, aren’t you?”
She didn’t have to sound so damned surprised, did she? “Since I have no idea how to answer a question like that, why don’t I just say that I haven’t seen Austin since I got here. Is he hiding out back?”
Her brows drew together. “Trevor invited him to go swimming at the public pool. Since Kathleen is done at work before I am, she offered to take him home until I can pick him up.”
“Well, you’d better get going then. I’m sure you don’t want to be late.”
She seemed taken aback. “I guess I should. Get going, that is. I’ll see you around.” She made it sound like a question.