Faith (A Next Generation Carter Brother Novel Book 1)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “Roxy! Sit!” I order, wishing the ground would swallow me up when she starts sniffing around my butt—no doubt his… um, junk.

  “The landlord said you’ve lived here a few years.”

  Well, if it wasn’t already uncomfortable…

  “I’m getting the place redecorated,” I comment, almost quietly.

  “I can see. Um, let’s get you to my place―”

  “What? No! Put me down. You can’t just take me to your place. I don’t know you,” I screech, trying to wiggle out of his arms.

  Roxy barks but he ignores her.

  His grip tightens as he ignores my pleas and walks me out of my flat, past my smashed-up Chinese, which I had been excited to have since I woke up craving it this morning, and into his.

  Unlike mine, his is full of furniture. What surprises me is he’s building shelves from scratch—no Ikea bull where it says it’s easier, but it’s not. Instead he has a sturdy table with an electric saw and wood shavings all over the place.

  Roxy runs ahead of us, making herself comfortable on a blanket near the covered TV set and settles down, resting her head on her paws.

  Traitor.

  “My name is Beau. I know you don’t know me, but I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to take a look at your ankle, get you an icepack and some paracetamol, and run down to the Chinese and order whatever food I just destroyed of yours. Is that okay?”

  My mouth opens to argue, but nothing comes out as he sits me down on a round table he clearly also made by hand.

  And why didn’t I argue? Because how can I when he’s being incredibly sweet, even if a little demanding.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, staring at the top of his head as he slips my shoe off.

  Hearing me, he lifts his head, his eyes piercing mine, and for a second―okay, maybe longer―I get lost in his gaze. Something shifts in his emerald stare and he clears his throat, breaking whatever just transpired between us.

  The feather-soft touch on my ankle startles me. I can feel my cheeks heat as I look down, feeling at a loss for what to do.

  And the silence… I’ve never been one to be quiet whilst in the company of others. It just feels stilled, awkward. My facial expressions also give me away, so it will only make the situation even more intense.

  Another thing that’s startling is the fact I can’t seem to look away from him. He is immensely watchable—you know, being a walking, talking equivalent of a model you’d find in some raunchy romance novel.

  “I’m Faith. My name, that is.” I inwardly groan at my ramble, feeling my cheeks heat further.

  His eyes meet mine, crinkling at the corners as his lips twitch in amusement. “Hey, Faith.” He looks back down to my ankle, pressing into the tender flesh and making me wince. “It’s bruised and a little swollen, but it’s not broken. I’ll get some ice for it. It will help take the swelling down.”

  “Thank you.”

  He walks over to the open kitchen, grabbing a frozen gel compress and a towel. When he walks away, towards the sofa at the other end of the room, I’m confused. He rips the plastic protective sheeting off before turning back to me.

  He moves towards me with predatory steps, his eyes narrowed as he considers me. I open my mouth but again, nothing comes out as he lifts me up, then walks me over to the sofa where he sits me down.

  “I’ll be back in five with the Chinese.”

  “Wait!” I call out. “You don’t have to do that. I dropped it, it’s my fault. I can just go get another.” I can’t; I’m totally skint and don’t want to waste another fifteen pounds on food.

  “I’m hungry.” He shrugs. “And I was the one who scared you.”

  With that, he grabs his wallet and walks out, leaving the door open so I can see into my flat. I’m tempted to go back, lock my door and pretend none of this happened, but the throbbing pain in my ankle prevents me.

  And yes, the intriguing Beau is another reason.

  I want to know more.

  Oh, Faith, he’ll probably get you a Chinese and throw you back in your own flat. Hell, he probably just feels guilty for scaring you.

  But even as my inner voice mocks me, I don’t believe he did it out of guilt. He helped me because he’s a good person.

  By the time he comes back, I’m a nervous wreck. I don’t know what to do with myself. Do I sit back, make myself at home and come across as rude and overly confident? Or should I stay sitting with my back straight, uncomfortable, and looking an awkward mess.

  My worries are answered when he pulls out some plates and forks, watching me intently.

  “Sit back and relax. Eat your food, then I’ll take you across the hall. You need to keep ice on your foot for a while. Leave it on for twenty, off for thirty, until you fall asleep.” As soon as Roxy hears the word food, she’s up, walking over to him and sniffing the bag. “Lay down,” he orders easily, and Roxy, who never listens to anyone other than me, follows his command and lays down.

  Not even my cousins, uncles or parents can get her to listen, and it’s them that take turns to walk her on the days I work long hours.

  “Thank you for helping me. And for the dinner.” I smile shyly.

  He looks like he wants to say something but shrugs instead, passing me a plate and fork before digging into the bag.

  “I guessed what you liked by the smell. I’m sorry if it’s wrong,” he tells me sheepishly, handing me a container filled with Singapore fried rice.

  “It’s my favourite,” I admit, and dig in.

  I’m starving. I missed lunch today due to the walk-in emergencies. Susan even came in early to help, but it still kept me busy most of the day, which is why I was late coming home.

  “Did you live around here before? Your Aunt never said anything when she informed me you were moving in,” I say, starting conversation and slipping in the fact that I know he’s our landlords’ nephew.

  He looks at me from the corner of his eye before finishing his bite of food. “I moved around a lot due to work. The last place I lived in properly was half an hour from here.”

  He doesn’t give me more than that. I bite my lip, wondering what to say next, but he jumps in to save me before I embarrass myself.

  “They put up new security before I came. Is it working out for you?”

  I smile at that. Martin had been beside himself when he found out. He reminds me a lot of my great-granddad before he passed. He just had that aura about him that screamed grandfather.

  “Yeah. Martin even came to overlook the construction, making sure they did it right. He was a bear to deal with.”

  A deep chuckle slips past his lips and I watch, transfixed on the laugh lines wrinkling his face.

  My cheeks heat, as well as my chest, and I have to look away before I do something stupid like kiss him.

  “He’s stubborn as hell. Have they caught who did it?” he asks. I feel my eyebrows pinch and my stomach drop as Noah is so casually brought up, and he frowns. “Sorry, none of my business.”

  “Sorry, it’s still sore to talk about. It’s been hard living there knowing someone invaded my personal space, touched my stuff… Well, the stuff that survived.”

  “Is that why there’s a ton of paint in your living room?”

  “Yeah, I’m hoping it will help me see the flat differently, make it feel like a home again.”

  Something passes through his eyes and for a few painfully long seconds, he doesn’t say anything. He seems to be taking something in or figuring out how to approach the subject.

  Whatever was on his mind disappears because the look is soon gone and a smile forces its way on his beautiful lips.

  “How about we finish this and then you ice your foot while I paint?”

  “No! I’ll be fine, honestly. You don’t need to do that, it’s my own stupid fault for being so jumpy. I should have remembered you were living here.”

  He shakes his head at me, his lips twitching in amusement. “You’d actually be doing me a favour.
I’ve had a lot of energy to burn through since moving here. I’ve been working on putting stuff together here, but I’m done once I clean it all away.”

  “You really don’t need to,” I tell him quietly, feeling a weight on my chest at his kindness and generosity.

  “I know.” He smiles big, nearly blinding me. “But my uncle would have my head if I didn’t help you, and I really don’t mind. Plus, we’re neighbours now; we can get to know one another better.”

  When he says it, a picture of us together runs through my mind. I know when he’d said get to know one another, he hadn’t meant it like that, so my cheeks heat further. I’m thankful he can’t read my thoughts. I’d probably combust.

  “Okay. I can let you know about Maisy, the owner of the hairdresser’s downstairs. Trust me, you’ll need the downlow if you ever bump into her on a Monday.”

  He grins, helping me up off the sofa. “What about your plates?” I ask when he starts to bend, no doubt to carry me into my flat.

  “I’ll do it when I’m finished at yours. It’s fine. It’s not going anywhere, so stop worrying. Now come on, I need to know about his Maisy chick. Roxy, come.”

  Roxy barks, gets to her feet, and heads home, where she goes straight to her food dish and sits. I giggle at her expression, knowing it must have killed her to sit through us eating. She normally pinches food off my plate when I’m finished, but not tonight.

  And like he belongs, Beau places me down on the makeshift sofa I have shoved under my window. It’s basically a bunch of pillows my mum bought and blankets Nina’s mum got me, piled so I’ve got something comfy to sit on.

  It does the job. It’s also been a bed since it was comfier than the air mattress Aiden bought me. I’d been so glad when my mattress had been delivered; my back couldn’t take it anymore. Tomorrow, my bedframe will arrive and everything will start going back to normal.

  After placing me down, he moves off to the kitchen area, looking through cupboards for Roxy’s food.

  It’s a few hours later, after watching him paint my living area, that my eyelids become heavy and I fall asleep.

  If I had stayed awake, I would have felt him cover me with a blanket. I would have seen him start my bedroom, painting with the deep shade of purple I’d bought before the robbery.

  And I would have heard him whisper goodnight before he left.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It’s been two days since I last saw Beau, my new neighbour. A hot, sexy neighbour who’d painted not only my living room, but my bedroom.

  It hadn’t even occurred to me to ask him what he did for a living, but I doubt being a painter had you travelling across the country. And the only other thing I knew about him was that he liked to build things, and I don’t see that causing the need to travel for work.

  The first thing I did when I woke up the morning after I met Beau was look at my foot, which was surprisingly not as tender as it had been the night before.

  The second was to admire the incredible job he did on my flat.

  The third was to call Lily and tell her all about my new neighbour. As a bookworm, she lives for this stuff, and when she lays eyes on Beau, I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts drooling over him. He is a force to be reckoned with.

  Then I was startled by a knock on my front door. Instead of it being said hot, sexy neighbour, it was my sofa.

  I spent the rest of the day catching up on housework, Beau constantly on my mind. I wanted to see him again, if only so I could thank him.

  When I woke up the following morning, I made a batch of cookies and took them to his place. I told myself it was just to say thank you, but when he didn’t answer, the disappointment I felt told me there was more to it.

  I was starting to believe I’d made him up in my head. I never heard him drilling, moving around or coming to and from his flat.

  Shaking away my thoughts of Beau, I concentrate on the task at hand. The red-brick building with tall ceilings seems intimidating as I look up from the bottom of the steps.

  Collings called me this morning to come in and meet with his new officer at the police station. Apparently, this guy is good at profiling and stuff like that, but if he hasn’t managed to catch Noah yet, he can’t be as good as Collings has made out.

  Guilt immediately hits me. They’re only trying to help me and there’s only so much they can do. I should be thanking them, not dismissing them.

  I walk inside with a new perspective. I’m not going to cry or scream if they give me bad news. I’m going to take it on the chin and pull my big girl pants on.

  Because I’ve noticed since the breakin that it’s slowly begun to control my life. It’s taken my home away from me because I let it. It’s made me scared to sleep, wondering if he’ll come back. I even jump when my phone beeps with an email because I keep thinking it’s him.

  It never is.

  Any doubt I had that it couldn’t have been Noah was immediately dismissed when his account suddenly disappeared. When it happened, my first suspect was Noah, but then I felt bad for accusing someone who could be innocent. Now, there is no doubt in my mind.

  “Hi, I’m here to see―”

  “Faith, hi. You can come on through,” Collings interrupts, opening the side door for me to enter. I smile politely at the officer on the front desk and follow Collings.

  When we walk into a pretty cosy room, I’m surprised. I kept picturing a metal table with screwed down metal chairs and a one-way mirror. Instead, there’s a grey sofa against the wall, a small table with a vase of bright, colourful flowers and a round table and chairs. Nothing formal or intimidating, like I’d presumed.

  He sees me looking around in surprise. “Not what you expected?”

  Laughing, I shake my head. “No. The way my brothers and cousins go on about it, you’d think it was dank and dirty.”

  “Any chance your brother is Ashton Carter?”

  My eyebrows rise. “No, he’s my cousin,” I tell him slowly. “Why?”

  “He’s a regular in here. Has been since he turned fifteen. The kid even talks the female officers into buying him food. Sometimes I think he pulls stuff just to get pampered.”

  My brain tries to conjure up what Ashton could have possibly done. At eighteen, he’s always up to something, but the one Carter rule is to never get caught. Not that we commit crimes, only minor infractions. The guys just get into a lot of fights, a few pranks, and possibly nearly set an old church on fire with fireworks. But I’ve never actually picked Ashton up from here. That privilege went to my brothers and other cousins.

  “That sounds about right. He loves his food, especially desserts. Can’t see why he’d be brought in though. He’s actually the tamest of my family.”

  He laughs at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I know. I was just starting out when your uncle Max kept getting brought in. He made my job hell. Ashton always gets brought in for drunk and disorderly, but whenever he gets here, he’s sober as a judge and laying on the charm.”

  My laughter spills free, because that really does sound like Aston, but it soon dies when the door opens and in walks Beau, decked out in police uniform, looking utterly sinful.

  My mouth opens, then closes, before I finally manage to speak. “I baked cookies for you. You weren’t in,” I blurt out, feeling my cheeks heat.

  His lips twitch as he eyes Collings, before turning back to me. “Hey, Faith.”

  “You two know each other?” Collings asks, eyebrows raised.

  I don’t need a mirror to know my cheeks are flaming red. “He’s my neighbour.”

  “Oh, well, look at that.”

  “I only found out who you were today. If you’d like another officer working your case, let me know,” Beau says.

  I snap out of my daze, out of the shock of seeing him.

  In freaking uniform.

  Looking like every woman’s wet dream.

  And if a woman denies she’s ever had one… she’s freaking lying.

  “Um, no,
you can work me. I mean, work for me. I mean my case,” I ramble, groaning out loud.

  His deep, masculine chuckle sends a tingle shooting down to my sex. “All right, take a seat. We need go over everything one more time. It’s probably going to be the same questions, but you might remember something you didn’t before. Okay?”

  I nod before finding my voice, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  “We managed to get printed copies of the emails that transpired between you and Noah Anderson, thanks to One Love communicating and working with us. So, I guess, we need to start off from that night.” He holds up a small pile of papers before continuing. “Where did you get ready?”

  I’m feeling on edge as I sit straighter in my seat. I can’t seem to look away from him, from his lips, from the way he moves or the way his tattooed fingers grip his pen. I’m being incredibly gawky, and it’s making the whole thing intense.

  “I got ready at home, with my friend, Nina.”

  He looks down to one of the pieces of paper, reading something over. “Nina, she’s your best friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, so you left your flat. Was there anyone in the hallway or outside the main door?”

  I think back but see nothing in my mind. “No. No one lived next door then, so it was empty. We met the taxi outside and I didn’t see or notice anything out of the ordinary, but then I wasn’t really looking for anything. It was late and most of the town was closed. It was also raining pretty heavily.”

  “And your friend went to the restaurant with you?”

  My fingers entwine on my lap. I’m beginning to feel like I’m being interrogated, like I’m the one who did something wrong.

  “She came with me in the taxi, but as soon as we arrived, we said our goodbyes. She walked over the road to the bar and I went inside.”

  “Straight away?”

  My eyebrows draw together. “Yes. It was raining and my feet were soaked, so I ran in.”

  “And then what?”

  “The male host asked for the name the table had been booked under, and I told him Anderson. It was the name Noah told me to―”

  “He booked it?” Beau interrupts, startling me.

  I nod, trying to remember if I’d already told them that. “Yes. It’s hard to get a table there. My friend, Nina, was going to eat there too, in case he turned out to be a creep, but they don’t book singles. By the time she got someone to agree to go with her, they were already fully booked.”