by Skye Jordan
Grant looked down at their hands and threaded their fingers but didn’t speak, and the moment felt unnervingly intimate.
“I wish he couldn’t see us,” Grant murmured. “Because I’d kiss you again.”
All the feelings from the day before rushed in, mixing with new nerves, and she breathed, “Yeah.”
Grant chuckled, squeezed her hand, and met her eyes. His were relaxed, but a spark was missing, and that made her sad. He lifted a hand, swept a piece of hair off her cheek, then tucked it behind her ear in a gesture so tender, it flipped Faith’s heart. “Headed home?”
Her stomach did that squeezing thing again, but this time she couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement. “No. I have to take him back first. And I told Taylor I was going to take him through the Dairy Queen drive-through, which means she’ll be expecting her regular.”
He grinned. “What’s her regular?”
“Oreo.”
“And what’s your regular?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t have one. I try something new every time I go.”
He lifted his brows. “Really.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m reckless like that.”
He chuckled, opened his fingers, and slid his hand against hers. “I like reckless.”
She nodded. “I figured. What’s your regular?”
He lifted his gaze to the rink. “I’d like to taste Faith Nicholas again. I didn’t get enough the first time to tell if it was my flavor or not.”
Her whole body erupted in a burst of tingling heat.
She hummed a laugh, and before she could think of a witty comeback, Caleb streaked across the ice, shoes and hockey stick in one hand, blade guards in the other. “I’m ready to go. Wait till Mom sees me.”
Grant released her hand and pushed off the wall, putting space between them as Caleb jumped and turned, planting his ass on the ledge. He slid on his guards, then changed from skates to tennis shoes while talking nonstop about practice.
Grant egged him on but kept looking at Faith as he shifted restlessly on his own skates. While Faith’s mind was spinning a mile a minute—ask him to come over, or leave it relaxed between them? Go for it, or let things end on a good note? Was she ready to jump back into the deep end? Should she do it with this guy?
The flutter in her belly told her she was pretty sure he’d drag her under and drown her without ever realizing. But then she wondered if she were underestimating herself. Underestimating him.
“Aunt Faith.” Caleb’s frustrated voice dragged her gaze from Grant’s grin.
“What?”
Caleb was already standing outside the rink, skates in hand, arms out.
“Hey.” She frowned at him. “Lose the attitude, or you can walk home, buddy.”
He deflated. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“What do you say to Grant? And think before you answer.”
Her warning tone registered, but he still answered immediately. “That was the best practice ever, Mr. Saber.”
“Grant,” he said, chuckling, then grimaced. “No Mr. Saber.”
“Sorry. But seriously, I’ve never had so much fun playing hockey before. Thank you.”
“I’m glad. Thanks for giving it your all.”
“Okay,” Faith said, reluctant to walk away from Grant. But she tugged on the hood of Caleb’s sweatshirt, teasingly dragging him right, then left, then right again until he was laughing. “I guess we can go to Dairy Queen on the way home.”
Caleb jumped and fisted his hand. “Yes.” And he ran to the truck, yelling, “Thanks for the extra practice, Mr… Grant.”
“He’s a good kid,” Grant said, waving to Caleb before he jumped in the truck.
Faith walked backward a few feet. “And you’re a good man, Grant Saber.”
Grant dropped his hand and looked at her for a long, deer-in-the-headlights moment before a grin split his face.
Faith’s heart tripped again. And to keep herself from falling over her feet, Faith turned and jogged the rest of the way to the truck. When she backed out of the parking space, she glanced over at the ice and found Grant sprinting from one end of the rink to the other, a puck at the blade of his stick, swooshing around corners, taking sharp turns, and speeding back the other direction.
She paused a moment to watch, mesmerized by his speed and intensity. The sight made her body tighten in ways she hadn’t felt in so long, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt quite like this. “I need to start watching more hockey.”
“I told you that when I was, like, five.”
Faith reached across the bench seat and stuck a finger in Caleb’s ticklish ribs. He burst into giggles that warmed Faith’s heart. “Shush, monkey. Be nice, or no Blizzard for you.”
She only half listened to Caleb’s constant chatter on the drive, her mind spinning around how quickly her desire for Grant had ramped up over the span of a week. She’d been single for eight years now. During that time, she’d made a lot of male friends and been asked out dozens of times. But she’d only met maybe a handful of guys who’d tempted her to date again, and not one who’d made her want to jump into bed with him.
Yet here she was, losing sleep over Grant. And it wasn’t just because of his looks. Sure, that was a benefit, but what had captured her attention was his confidence and wit. What had deepened her interest was all she’d learned about him during his daily visits to the store. The way he stopped to talk to locals. His easy nature and quick laughter. And the way he continued to fix up his parents’ home even when their relationship was strained. How he’d stayed in town even after a blowup with them to honor his commitment to Dwayne and support a team that had once been his team.
“I couldn’t believe it when he told me he’d been bullied in school.” Caleb’s comment broke into Faith’s thoughts.
She glanced at him. “What?”
“Mr. Saber. He told me that he was really unpopular as a kid. He got picked on a lot, like me.”
Her brows shot up, and a grin turned her mouth. He’d probably made that up to make Caleb feel better. “Really?”
“Uh-huh. He was super skinny and had really bad pimples, you know? What do you call that?”
“Acne?”
“Yeah, that. He said kids called him names for a long time. You know, the way they call me nerd and dweeb and stuff.”
“Oh yeah?” Faith’s brows pulled together. She was having a hard time picturing that.
“Yeah. Told me that people only started to respect him when he got good at hockey. Said I didn’t have to choose hockey, but that finding something that I’m really good at will make other people respect me. And over time, people would stop teasing me. He said I shouldn’t be afraid to be me. That too many people spend too much time trying to fit in when they should be trying to stand out and be their own personal best.”
That sting of warmth she’d had earlier filled her again, and she smiled pulling into the Dairy Queen drive-through.
Grant Saber just kept surprising her.
Faith was still thinking about Grant long after she’d dropped Caleb off at home and returned to the store to finish up her day by stocking shelves. Thinking about his kiss as she started toward the basement where dozens of delivery boxes awaited her. Thinking about his words that still created a shiver in her gut and settled heat between her legs.
“I talk as dirty as I fight, and I fuck as hard as I play.”
She wondered what it would be like to have a man like Grant Saber, with all his confidence and skill, talk dirty to her. Wondered what it would be like to be fucked hard. Hell, fucked period. She’d never approached sex that way. Dillon had been her first and last. And she’d been in love with him. Had believed she’d marry him.
As she unloaded the last box, Faith came to the realization that nothing in life was a sure thing—except death. And that by trying so hard to hold on to the store, she was letting life pass her by. A big chunk of which she’d already missed out on. It didn’t matter whether Gran
t wanted one night or even one hour, because the truth was, with her life so unstable, Faith didn’t have much more to offer.
Gathering the last box of nuts, bolts, and screws, she started upstairs to fill the shelves.
“Tomorrow,” she told herself, “I’m going to ask him out. Tomorrow, when he comes in, I’m going to see if he wants to go to dinner. I’m going to be honest with him, and if he’s still interested, then…” She paused on the stairs. “Then what?”
The thought of having sex with him electrified her blood. Just kissing him had knocked her completely off-balance. What would she do when she was naked? When he was naked? Or when his hands roamed her body? When his mouth ventured beyond her lips? When he moved between her legs and pushed inside her.
A wave of want crashed, making her so dizzy, she had to put a hand against the wall to steady herself. “God,” she said, the word shaky with excitement, anticipation… Fear. She forced her feet to move again. “He’s so out of my stratosphere. It’s probably time to check into some video education tonigh—”
Psssssssss…
Faith’s feet froze on the stairs. Her ears perked to the new high-pressured hiss coming from somewhere adjacent to the storage room. It was the kind of sound that prickled the skin on the back of her neck with alarm.
She turned and started back to the basement, her mind searching for the cause. The explosion shocked her, and Faith tripped over her own feet. She let out a cry just before she hit the cement stairs. Pain cracked through her butt and back, stealing her breath. The box she’d been carrying slammed against the wall, then the floor, spraying silver screws like confetti.
Faith used her hands to slow her momentum and brace herself once she’d come to a stop. But several moments passed before she could gain control over her breathing to ease the pain that stabbed along her back and butt.
When it finally eased enough to let her draw full breaths, her other senses came back, and a new horror flooded in—the sound of gushing water.
Grant had pushed everything too far this week—his frustration with his parents, his desire for Faith, and the limits of his own body. And he was paying for all of them.
He let the hot water pulse from the new showerhead over his right shoulder, glad he’d gone for the more expensive model and all the massage features. After this, he’d stretch, then pack it with ice. Add a little ibuprofen and a good night’s sleep, and he’d be fine tomorrow.
But sleep wouldn’t come easily. All he had to do was remember the feel of Faith’s warm mouth under his. The gentle way she’d stroked his tongue when she’d found the nerve. The way she felt against him. And, God, the sounds she made when he kissed her…
All his blood flowed south again. His groin tightened. His cock hardened.
“Fuck.” Grant opened his eyes to his hard-on and sighed. It was going to be another long night.
He hit the controls, pulled the towel from the shower door, and pressed it against his face. His brothers would be here tomorrow. Initially, that would buffer him from his parents. But Grant suspected that Patrick and Shawn would become as big a source of stress and frustration as his parents were. And even after all these years, that really disappointed him.
As he dried off, he thought of Faith and her relationship with her father and Caleb, a boy she wasn’t even related to by blood. They were loving, nurturing, and kind. Because Faith was loving, nurturing, and kind. And it made Grant wonder if it was time to add that kind of happiness and warmth into his own life.
But that was extremely hard to do in his line of work with a grueling game and practice schedule that included travel, charity and team events. When he was surrounded by women who were more interested in what kind of fame or finances he brought to the table instead of what kind of man he was.
“And you’re a good man, Grant Saber.”
Faith’s words made him smile. He didn’t feel like he deserved them, but he wanted to deserve them. Now he wished he had more time to earn them with her.
His phone chimed with a call. Grant closed his eyes, sighed, and picked up the phone. He didn’t recognize the number, just that it was local, and hoped Bobby Lowry was calling to get together. It would be good to see him and it might help keep Grant’s mind off Faith.
“Hello,” he answered, scrubbing his hair with the towel.
“Hey, Grant?”
He recognized Faith’s voice immediately, which threw him completely off axis. “Faith?”
She huffed a tired laugh. “Who were you expecting? How many women do you have calling you at this hour?” He grinned at her quick sarcasm, but she didn’t sound quite right. “Hold on. Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
“Are you out of breath? Or just tipsy?” Lowering his voice, he teased, “Did you get into the Jangle Punch again?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” There was definitely something off in her voice. “If you get here soon, I might still have some to share with you.”
He didn’t get a chance to ask if she was serious, because the line went dead. Grant pulled his phone from his ear and stared at it. Then shrugged. Jangle Punch or no Jangle Punch, there was nowhere he’d rather be than with Faith. Annoyed or not.
He reached for the bathroom door.
A knock came from the entry to the guesthouse, followed by, “Grant?”
He cringed at the sound of his mother’s voice and leaned on the door handle. “Yeah, Mom. Taking a shower.”
“Sorry, honey. I wanted to tell you that Patrick came in early. And Shawn’s going to be delayed. Do you think you could come up to the house for a drink before you turn in? Patrick’s interested in the landscaping barrier you put in the planting beds out front. Says he’d like to use it at his house and had some questions.”
“Shit,” he whispered, then said, “Actually, I promised Dwayne I’d meet him to talk about some team strategy tonight. Can you tell Patrick I’ll catch him tomorrow?”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, and Grant braced for her incensed anger. “All right.”
When she didn’t say more, Grant said, “Thanks.”
“Sure.” Pause. “Honey, I just wanted to tell you that your dad and I really appreciate all you’ve done around the house this past week, and despite our rough start, it’s been so nice having you home.”
He rubbed his face, so not in the mood to deal with this. Nor did he know what to say. Based on years of experience, he wasn’t ready to jump into expectations. “Thanks, Mom. I’m glad.”
“Tomorrow maybe we can sit down with your schedule and see when we can all make it to one of your games.”
He dropped his hand, lifted his head, and stared at the door. “Really?”
Okay, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say out loud, but…really?
“Yes, really. You know, your dad’s been under a lot of stress at work. Normally he’s not so…angry.” She paused. “Well, say hello to Dwayne for us. We’ll talk to you in the morning.”
When the door closed, Grant shook his head and muttered, “Who was that, and what did she do with my mother?”
But he wondered only for a second, because he had someone very special waiting for him.
Grant splashed on a little cologne and dressed in jeans and a tee, and was out the door in two minutes flat. He shrugged into his parka on the jog to his SUV sitting in the drive and headed toward town.
With edgy alternative rock shaking the car and his mind spiraling through what-ifs over Faith’s phone call—specifically, what if she’d called to tell him she wanted him and just couldn’t find the words?—Grant was primed and pumped when he took the steps to the store two at a time and found the front door open. He stepped into the darkened store to the familiar tinkle of a bell and the rasp of his own quick breath.
He was just about to call for her when Faith’s voice floated up from the basement. “I’m down here.”
Grant frowned. “And…what are you doing down there?”
At the bottom of the stairs, he found three feet o
f water covering the concrete floor and Faith dressed in the same clothes she’d been wearing at the rink—only now she was soaking wet.
She reached high to add a box to the top of a shelving unit and glanced over her shoulder. “Well, hello, Mr. Saber.”
All his excitement evaporated, and his shoulders sank. He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and tilted his head. A pipe had obviously broken, and it hadn’t happened in the last fifteen minutes.
“I’m guessing this means there’s no Jangle Punch awaiting me,” he said.
“And I’m guessing that’s not all you thought would be awaiting you.” She gave him a smile and a shrug. “But you might still get Jangle Punch out of this if you play your cards right. Yuletide is just a block away. Unfortunately, I have to get this worked out before I can go anywhere.” She gave him an overly sweet smile and a dramatic bat of her lashes. “If you’d like to help, it might go faster.”
Grant heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes.
“Don’t act all put out,” she said, amused by his disappointment. “You live three minutes away, and I have other people I can call to help. The door is right behind you.”
“So…I was your first call?”
She crossed her arms. “You were.”
That mollified him. Grant shrugged out of his parka. “Why’d the pipe break?”
“I don’t know. Everything’s insulated. Might have just suffered one expansion too many. I got the water turned off pretty fast, and I have everything I need to replace the pipe, but there’s one fitting that’s on so tight, I can’t loosen it. I’ve called three plumbers, none of whom are available for a minimum of three days—so much for emergency plumbers, right?”
He grinned at her. “You said I was your first call.”
She leveled a heavy-lidded look on him. “The pipe blew right at an elbow, and to fix it, I’ve got to get the elbow off. But it’s crimped down so tight, I can’t move it. If you can just loosen the fitting for me, I can do the rest myself.”
Of course she could. “You can do just about everything yourself, can’t you?”
“As a matter of fact,” she said, her smile way too sweet, her expression way too innocent. “But hey, if you want to fix my pipes while you’re here, Mr. Fix-it, I’m not going to stop you.”