My palms begin to sweat as I ramble on, having no idea where this is going.
Beau looks to Collings and gives him a nod.
“I’ll be back in a moment. It’s been a while, they probably won’t find anything,” Collings says before leaving.
“What’s going on?” I ask nervously.
“Collings is just going to check if anyone had Rosa’s call records checked and if there was any payment information left. Normally, with restaurants like that, you have to put down a deposit.”
Ah, I see.
“I’m not sure. He just said to leave it to him.”
He gives me gentle, warm smile, and I feel myself melt against the table, feeling like he just handed me a gift.
“Okay, so, you booked in and went to sit down?”
I think back, trying to remember moments I hadn’t considered before. No one had gone into this much detail with me in my previous interviews. They had been more focussed on my journey home; what I saw, what I didn’t see and what was taken. No one had stopped to really ask about Rosa’s, other than to confirm I was there at the time of the burglary.
“No. The host told me to wait in the bar until my table was ready, so I did.”
“Did you sit next to someone, near someone?”
“No. I sat on a small couch by the fire. No one sat on the one opposite or next to me. There were a few couples sat at tables nearby, but I paid no attention. I was texting Nina, worried because he hadn’t arrived.”
He nods, then looks back down to his paper. “What happened after? Did you get seated or did you wait there until you left?”
“Anderson was called, so I stepped up and let the waitress walk me to the table.” I pause, remembering something that slipped my mind when the police questioned me. In my defence, I had just been robbed of everything, of every penny I had, and my precious necklace was taken.
“What?”
I shake my head. “It’s probably nothing,” I whisper, feeling foolish.
“Let me be the judge of that.” He smiles, eyeing me gently, as if I may break. My hands are shaking. I remove them from where I’d been gripping the table and back to my lap, hiding them.
“When I was getting shown to my seat, a man knocked into me. I can’t even remember what he looked like, only that he had really dark eyes. I dropped my bag and the contents went everywhere.” I gasp, feeling stupid. “Oh, my God. He could have been the one to take my things. I didn’t even check whether I’d picked everything up. I was too freaking embarrassed. And he made me nervous—in a bad way. He said something… He said… something about a date. It stunned me. Yeah, it was the easiest assumption but―” I’m breathing hard, my hands back on the table as tears spring to my eyes.
How could I have been so stupid?
All this, because I’m a hopeless romantic.
Always, since as far back as I can remember, I have wanted to get married. I have wanted my Prince Charming. My forever. I have wanted the big wedding, the big, puffy, princess, wedding dress. I have wanted it all. It’s why I’ve never settled. I’d never said yes to a boy, hoping, over time, I would know he was the one, because I knew when I did find my soul mate, I wouldn’t need hope. I would just know, deep in my soul.
It was stupid.
Naïve.
Reckless.
“I’m so freaking stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Faith. You didn’t know. Thousands, if not millions of women and men use dating sites, and a majority of the time, they are successful. People find their other half and marry them. They find love. It’s not stupid.”
I wipe at my tears, feeling frustrated with myself. Nothing he says can make me feel better. “I am. I let a stranger into my life. I didn’t even meet him and he screwed me over. What kind of person does that make me?”
“It makes you a faithful, trustworthy one. You didn’t know what he was going to do. Nobody could have predicted that, Faith.
“Now, I know this is hard for you, but is there anything you can remember about the man you bumped into?”
My eyes close as I picture myself back in the restaurant, walking between tables and hearing the endless chatter around me.
When I get to the part where I’m bumped into, my mind goes fuzzy. All I can see is his eyes. They’re brown, almost black, with no emotion inside them. There’s just nothing there, like he has no soul.
“All I can see is his eyes,” I tell him, sagging with defeat. Why can’t I see his face?
“That’s fine. Hopefully, Rosa’s will have something on camera.”
My ears perk up. “Really? Oh, my God, does that mean you’ll probably find him? Find my necklace?”
He takes my hand in his and my mouth falls open, a breath passing my lips. His skin is warm, calloused—probably from all the woodwork he does.
My eyes snap to his, and seemingly without thought, he rubs his thumb over the top of my hand as he stares back at me with a feverish intensity.
Collings walking in has us splitting apart, and Beau quickly turns his attention to the papers in front of him. “I’ve got Mathews on the case. Did I interrupt something?” he asks, looking at us both with a raised eyebrow.
“No, we’re good. We’ve got more to go on now. As for your necklace, it will probably be a lost cause,” he tells me, wincing at his words.
I can tell my face crumbles, because I can feel it, the hurt that must be showing in my eyes. It’s all reflecting off his expression, filled with pity, as tears fall down my cheeks.
“No,” I choke out on a breath. “I need it, it’s mine.”
His arms tenses, like he’s forcing himself not to reach for me. There’s a part of me that wishes he would, that he would take me in his arms, but that’s just crazy. We hardly know each other.
“I’m sorry, Faith. We have been searching for it. All the pawn shops in a ten-mile radius have a description and picture to look out for. One of them will contact us if it turns up.”
My head moves into a nod, but I’m not present. Deep down, I know the necklace is gone, but I can’t accept it. After losing both my great-grandparents, I know how much it means to keep hold of the things that mean the most to you. That necklace was everything to me.
“Is that everything?” I whisper, not meeting his eyes.
“Yeah. Let me walk you out.”
Again, I nod, but I don’t pay attention. I walk mindlessly to the door, which he opens for me, and step out.
The second we’re outside, the harsh weather hits me. It’s raining, the wind whipping my hair around my face sharply.
“Where’s your car?”
Fingers trembling, I point to the visitor’s bay and start over, trying to duck my face into my chest to protect myself from the wind.
I open my car door and am just about to get in when he stops me and turns me to face him, the rain pouring down, soaking us both.
“We will work our hardest to find who did this, Faith. From the look on your face, I can see the necklace means a lot to you.”
I wipe my wet hair from my face and nod. “More than the money he took, and the things he trashed. It’s irreplaceable.”
“I need to get back, but I’ll come over later and grab those cookies.”
I wince. “My brother ate them. But I’ll make some more.”
“Looking forward to it,” he says, then does the damnedest thing. He winks. Actually freaking winks, and my heart thunders in my chest.
Holy shit, that was hot.
I nod and just stand there, gawking like a moron. He leans down…
My eyes close, wondering if he’s going to kiss me. I even stretch up on my toes, so he doesn’t strain his neck. Hell, I’m practically begging him to kiss me. It’s something I’ve imagined more than once since I first met him.
Which is so out of character for me.
I’m never like that.
I thought my female libido was broken or something.
But with Beau, it’s on fire.
&
nbsp; And I almost collapse… in disappointment when his warm lips press against my forehead. He knocks my chin with his knuckles. “See you later.” And then he’s off, running back into the police station.
“Holy Moses,” I curse, looking up to the sky, my eyes blinking rapidly against the rain.
The icy water doesn’t cool my burning body, or the fiery need swirling in the pool of my core.
My thighs clench together, and a throbbing needs pulses between my legs.
And he only kissed me on the head.
The freaking head.
Like I’m a relative or a close friend. Like I’m a child.
Thoroughly drenched head-to-toe, I get in my car, not caring about getting my seats wet, and head back home.
There, I’m going to make my weight’s worth in cookies and eat them.
After I take a long, cold shower.
CHAPTER FOUR
The evening wears on and I’m almost asleep when there’s a knock on my door. I look at the clock, seeing it’s only seven.
It’s probably Aiden, wanting me to bake him some over the top cake so he can pretend he made it and impress one of the many girls he’s always trying to hook up with.
Apparently, a guy who can cook is a keeper.
It’s just a shame Aiden can’t be kept. My mum would probably worry less if he settled down.
After I’d got home earlier and had my shower, I’d baked double my weight in cookies and curled up on the sofa with a blanket and binge-watched the Hallmark channel.
Roxy had cuddled into me, her weight welcome as she’d kept me warm. Now, her head pops up from my thighs and she jumps’ off the sofa, before rushing to the door, barking.
I’m in my pyjamas; a long-sleeved blue top with lace lining the edge near my breasts, and a white pair of shorts, scattered with printed blue stars, that barely cover my arse. The only reason I didn’t put on my wool bottoms was because of my awesome socks. They’re knitted in a light and dark shade of blue, and the insides are white. The tops flip over, showing off the white wool, and are finished with a blue bow. They’re the only pair I have now, but no doubt family and friends will start adding to my collection, buying them for me every chance they get.
They’re normally my reading socks.
Yes, it’s lame, but that’s what they’re called.
I love being snuggled in them while I sit and read my Kindle.
It’s my sister’s fault. She started the trend. Her addiction to these socks is ridiculous, but totally necessary.
Another knock on the door and I get up. My family see me dressed like this when they pop by unannounced, so it doesn’t bother me. I don’t think to check the peephole, so I’m startled when I find Beau standing there, leant against the doorframe, looking freshly showered and dressed, holding a bag of takeout. I hadn’t been expecting him until later.
“Do you like Indian?”
My nerves ease and my racing heart calms down at his easy smile.
“Depends. Where did you buy it?”
He scrunches his face up at that. “Masala Spice.”
I relax. “Then come on in. What are you waiting for?”
“Um, why was that important?” he asks, stepping inside.
“Because, the Indian down the road has given everyone I know food poisoning. Trust me, it’s disgusting.”
“Ah.” He grins and walks into the kitchen, where he drops the bag on the kitchen side. When he turns, it’s like he sees me for the first time. His eyes rake over my bare legs, down to my socks, which come up to my knees. He grins, his eyes sparkling. “Nice socks.”
I blush under his scrutiny, wishing I had something to cover up. The only thing close by is an old and tatty, knitted cardigan; but it’s long and great for curling up with on the sofa. So, I quickly step back, not wanting to turn and flash my arse, and put it on.
He grins at me, before grabbing some plates out of the cupboard. I clear my throat. “What made you stop by?”
He shrugs, and I don’t think he’s going to answer me, but he does, “I’m hungry and you promised cookies. It’s boring eating alone. I also ordered too much food.”
“Okay.” I didn’t really need an explanation. I like his company. It’s why I don’t argue. Plus, it’s a win-win for me. I get him and free food. What more could a girl ask for?
*** *** ***
It’s late and Beau is still here. I’d flicked off the Hallmark channel hours ago and put on One Tree Hill, starting from the beginning.
“You’re telling me he crushed so hard on that P girl, yet he ends up with Brooke? Not that I’m arguing—she’s hot—but I’m confused. Why’s he dating her when he likes the other one?”
“Because he secretly loves her but fears rejection. Brooke is easy―no pun intended,” I tell him when he grins, his eyebrow arched. “She doesn’t scare him the way Peyton does.”
He shrugs and flicks his gaze over to me. “Still don’t get it. Love isn’t meant to be easy. It’s meant to be scary, fulfilling and… What?”
I giggle. “Nothing. You just seem to have a strong opinion on the subject.”
“You teasing me?” he asks, a grin tugging at his lips.
God, will I ever stop swooning over his smile? Nope, don’t think I will.
“Maybe a little. My favourite couple is Hayley and Nathan,” I comment absently, looking back at the screen.
“And they get married in another season?” he asks, genuinely interested.
“Yeah.” I smile big, turning in my seat. “It’s so romantic. She’s a virgin and has always promised herself she’d wait for marriage before sleeping with someone. And Nathan… Even though he’s a little bit of a d-i-c-k. in some episodes, he never pressures her—well, there’s a scene where I think he’s slyly pushing. He kind of stops kissing her because he doesn’t want to pressure her.” I roll my eyes at that. “But deep down, I think he actually believes he’s helping, though to me, it just seemed he was putting more pressure on her.” When Beau gives me a funny look, one I can’t quite figure out, I stop. “What?”
“You really love this show, huh?”
My face aches from smiling so much. “Yeah. But it’s more than that. I love the relationships. They’re real. And Hayley and Nathan go through so much, but always manage to find their way back to each other. I also like they got married, tying themselves to one another forever before getting intimate.”
“You want to get married?”
My heart drops and my smile falls. “I did. Always have. But after this stuff with Noah, I’m not sure I ever want to date again.”
His smile falls now, his eyes gentle. “Not everyone is like Noah, Faith. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
He reaches out for my hand, and I let him. I notice him shift closer, his eyes staring intently into mine.
He opens his mouth to say something, when a thundering knock on the door has us both jumping apart.
“What the fuck?”
My heart pounds and my gaze flashes to the door. “Who is it?”
He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll go see. Wait here.”
Like hell.
The door isn’t that far away, so I’ll be able to see whoever it is from here, but if it’s someone coming back for me, I’d rather be standing next to Beau. He looks like he could pick up a truck if he was angry enough.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
“Who the fuck are you?”
I groan and rush over to the door. “Dad! What are you doing here?”
“Who’s this punk?” Uncle Max pipes in, barging in past Beau and stepping into the flat.
“Dad?” I call, looking around Beau to find my dad staring him down. “Dad!”
He looks over at me, his expression softening. “We came to see you. We have, um… some information.” He eyes Beau again distastefully.
“Hey, sis, who’s this punk?” Aiden asks as he steps in and walks straight over to the counter, where my baked goods are. “Cookies. Awe
some.”
“Hey, Faith. We wanted to come for moral support. Just know, we’re pissed we weren’t invited.” Mark, my eldest brother, walks in and kisses me on the cheek, before following Aiden over to the cookies.
“Invited?” I ask as Malik and Dad walk in next.
I notice Dad’s knuckles are red, dried blood caking his skin. “Oh, my gosh, what happened? Are you okay? Where’s Mum?”
Max laughs and I turn and glare at him, as I hear Beau shut the door. He stands in front of it, his arms crossed. That’s when I remember he’s a cop and it’s clear my dad has gotten into a scuffle.
“He,” Dad points to Max, “had Liam find out who this Noah kid is, and we went to pay him a visit. Unfortunately, your stuff wasn’t there, and neither was he. According to his buddy, he’s left town. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
My heart races as my gaze shoots to Beau, then Dad. “Um, Dad, this is Beau Johnson, the new officer working my case, the one I told you about.” I widen my eyes, giving him the look, but he seems undisturbed.
“I mean… we gave him a good talking to and told him, once we find his little friend, we’ll be going straight to the police,” Max quickly adds.
Aiden outright laughs, jumping up on my counter. “This should be fun.”
“You gonna say something?” Dad asks Beau, giving him a death glare.
God, why did we open the door?
“Dad!” I scold, before looking to Beau. “Ignore him.”
But Beau doesn’t look at me, he just stares at my father a second longer, both locked in this weird macho showdown, before nodding. “Depends, give me his address so I can go pay a visit and I won’t report what I’ve heard and witnessed. Maybe I could find out more.”
“Crooked cop?” Aiden asks, bouncing from his perch on my counter.
I roll my eyes at my brother. “No, so he can go question him.”
“Shut up.”
“No, you shut up,” I snap.
“I said it first.” He grins triumphantly.
Faith (A Next Generation Carter Brother Novel Book 1) Page 5