Faithless Angel

by Kimberly Raye

  She flipped off the light and left the door wide open. There were no memories lurking inside anymore, no monsters. Her stomach gave a traitorous grumble and she smiled. Minutes later, she was digging in the pantry for something to eat. Not just anything. She had a craving tonight that only one thing could satisfy….

  “There,” she said, pulling the box off the back shelf of her kitchen pantry. She reached for a bowl, eggs, and a spatula and went to work. A half hour later the delicious aroma of chocolate filled the house as Faith gathered up trash and yanked open the back door.

  “Yikes!” She came up short as a solid mass of man blocked her path and she realized that she’d forgotten to lock the burglar bars. A mistake she’d made numerous times in the past, before Jane’s death. Fear bolted through her until her gaze jerked up and she found herself staring into Jesse’s dark brown eyes. Gold flecks twinkled with amusement.

  Faith held a hand to her rapidly beating heart. “Thanks a lot. You scared the pants off me.”

  His gaze swept down and she saw a flicker of disappointment.

  “I meant that figuratively.”

  “A shame.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He sniffed, a smile creasing his face as he stared past her into the kitchen. “Is that what I think it is?”

  She frowned. “Yes, and you’re not getting any after scaring me like that.”

  He gave her a wicked smile. “Have a heart, Faith. You’re dealing with a desperate man. I haven’t had any for months.”

  She was sure his any referred to something entirely different than a plate of brownies, especially when he passed so close to her. He was so warm, scorching, and she barely resisted the urge to lean forward and touch her lips to his shoulder.

  Distance quickly yawned between them as he left her to pounce on the platter sitting near the stove.

  “A beautiful woman who can cook,” he said after biting into a warm brownie. “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. I used a mix. You can thank Betty Crocker.”

  He looked so at home standing there, filling up her kitchen. It was as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him to be leaning against her counter, scarfing down brownies and making her feel warm in all the wrong places. Or the right places, depending on which way she looked at it.

  Considering he hadn’t so much as touched her since that day in the rain, the warmth was definitely in all the wrong places.

  “You handed the boxes over to the mission for me. Thanks.”

  He ate another brownie before carrying the platter over to the table, where she joined him. “No trouble. Mrs. Moses came by while I was fixing the ceiling fan.”

  “And you straightened up the room.”

  He shrugged. “Once the boxes were gone, it was pretty clean. So what are you doing tonight?” He stared down at the platter. “Eating brownies all by yourself?”

  “Maybe,” she said, retrieving a dog biscuit for Grubby, who licked at her ankles. “Grubby and I thought we’d play a little solitaire”—she indicated a stack of cards sitting on the counter—“and I’d have a chocolate fest.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Jesse ate another brownie, and Faith drank in his appearance, noticing for the first time that he was wearing a button-up denim shirt tucked into denim jeans with a woven brown belt.

  “Big date tonight?” she asked, wondering why the idea should bother her so much.

  “Maybe later,” he said, eyeing her as he took another bite of brownie. “I thought I’d play a few hands of solitaire first.”

  “Two people don’t play solitaire.”

  “Then name your game.” He retrieved the deck of cards, flipped the chair around to straddle it, and started shuffling.

  “You don’t have to sit here and baby-sit me, Jesse. If you have someplace to go …” Someone to see, she added silently. The notion sent a pang of hurt rippling through her. “Don’t feel obligated. Just go wherever it is you were going.”

  “Later,” he said. “Now I’m up for a little poker.” He started dealing. At her hesitation, he added, “You can play poker, can’t you?” Challenge glittered hot and bright in his eyes, and Faith found herself reaching for the cards.

  “I can play anything you can deal, mister.”

  “Good.” He glanced at his hand, then grabbed two brownies and placed them in the center of the table. “I raise you two.”

  Faith smiled and met his challenge. A half hour later, she’d won a half dozen brownies, and eaten at least three.

  “We have to stop.” She groaned, patting her stomach, “Or else I’ll have to unbutton my pants.”

  At that comment, Jesse shoved a stack of winnings to the center of the table. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  “Very funny,” Faith grumbled. “But I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  Faith stared at him for a long moment and debated the truth of that. On the one hand, he looked dead serious. She could see the gold glinting in his eyes, feel the heat coming off him. On the other hand, he didn’t so much as make a move toward her. He was careful not to brush her hands when he dealt, equally careful to keep from staring at her any more than necessary.

  “I quit,” she said, tired of games. Of wanting something she obviously couldn’t have.

  “Wait.” One large hand reached out and covered hers. His skin burned into hers, oddly soothing and disconcerting at the same time. “What do you say we change the stakes?” He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and tugged at the collar.

  Faith shook her head. “If you’re thinking about strip poker, think again. Especially after I just gained five pounds from that last hand.”

  He grinned. “As tempting as that sounds, I had something a little different in mind.”

  Heat flooded her face for an embarrassing moment. Okay, so she’d read him wrong. That seemed to be a habit she couldn’t shake when it came to Jesse Savage.

  “What then?”

  “I’m chaperoning the dance at the community center tonight.”

  “Em and Ricky’s first date?”

  He nodded.

  She tilted her head and slanted him a glance. “So what’s the deal?”

  “If I win this next hand, you come along and help.”

  She was shaking her head even before he finished. “No, thanks. I think it’s time to call it quits.” She moved to get up, but his hand closed over hers again, and this time he didn’t let go.

  “What’s the hurry? Have you got a hot date or something?” His gaze raked her from tank top to jeans, to her bare feet peeking from beneath the table.

  “Only with my TV set.”

  “Then you can cancel.”

  “I don’t want to cancel.”

  “You should have seen them,” he said matter-of-factly, leaning back to shuffle the cards. He watched her from beneath partially lowered lashes. “Ricky bought her a corsage.”

  “What kind?” The words were out so quickly, she didn’t even consider holding them back. “Carnations?” She sighed. “Em loves carnations.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “You really want to know, then come with me and find out.”

  Yes. It was there on the tip of her tongue; all she had to do was let it go, but something held her back. A tightening in her chest, a closing of her throat.

  She shook her head.

  “Carnations,” he went on. “Red ones to match her sweater.”

  The excitement snagged her attention again. “A red sweater? With jeans or a skirt? Don’t tell me she actually put on a skirt?”

  “If I win, you can see for yourself.” He started dealing her a hand. “That’s the bet. I win and you come to the dance with me.”

  “And if I win?”

  He stopped shuffling, his dark eyes boring into hers for a long moment. “Then I’ll leave you alone about the kids.”

  She willed her hands to close around the cards he’d dealt her, but for some reason Jesse’s wager held little app
eal. Maybe because she wanted to see the kids again. As much as she fought against herself, against the hurt she’d felt, she wanted to see them, to hug them, to hear them laugh again.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked when she hesitated. “Afraid I might beat you?”

  She had to smile at that. “You’ve lost every hand.” And that was the trouble, she quickly realized. She was afraid she would win and he really would stop badgering her about the kids.

  “I’ll win,” he said, his voice so calm, so self-assured, she knew in an instant that she’d been suckered. He’d been losing on purpose.

  “I know what you’re up to,” she told him. “I did the same thing with Ricky.”

  “How’s that?”

  “He was ditching school so I challenged him to a game of pool. We played forever, and I lost every game. Then we played the final round.”

  “And you beat him.”

  “Exactly. Of course, he thought no girl could beat him, so he gladly played a winner-take-all last game.”

  “I assume he stopped ditching school.”

  “He’s rough, but he keeps his word. He had perfect attendance last year because I suckered him, just like you’re suckering me.”

  “Are you playing or not?” He motioned to her cards.

  With a smile, she picked them up. “You’re on.”

  Why?

  The question pounded through her head but she refused to think about it. Maybe she was just tired of being cooped up in the house. Maybe she didn’t want to watch Jesse walk out the door in ten or fifteen minutes. Maybe she wanted to see the kids and this was her only way of doing it without violating her self-made promise to stay away. Maybe all three.

  Not that it mattered.

  The only thing that mattered was the terrible hand Jesse dealt her and the look of victory as he laid down a full house.

  “I win.” He pulled her to her feet and stared down at her. “Now go put on your dancing shoes. We’ve got a date.”

  This was not a date, Jesse reminded himself as he stood in front of Faith’s house and stared at the woman who appeared in the doorway.

  She wore a loose-fitting pink and green sundress that fell to midcalf and covered a hell of a lot more than it showed. The material was soft, flowing over curves and dips to merely hint at what lay beneath. His gaze swept her once, twice. No, it wasn’t a date dress. No plunging neckline or tight bodice or short hem. The only thing that even whispered date was the lack of sleeves. He had a tantalizing view of tanned shoulders and arms that sent an ache straight to his—

  Wait a second. Arms? He was getting turned on by the sight of her arms? He was definitely hard up, and this was not, repeat, not a date. With that thought firmly in mind, he busied himself straddling the motorcycle and starting the engine.

  “This is great,” Faith said, bunching her skirt between her legs and climbing behind him. “I’ve always wanted to ride one of these things.” Her knees nudged the backs of his and she wrapped her arms around him.

  He gunned the engine and sent them bolting out of the driveway. The air rushed at him, but it did little to cool the heat inside him. Not with Faith pressed so tightly against his back, her thighs flanking his.

  The three blocks to the community center passed painfully slowly, yet too damned fast at the same time. He wanted to feel her, yet he didn’t, his emotions a constant seesaw where Faith was concerned.

  But distance had to win out, because Faith was just a means to an end. Business, he told himself as he swerved into the community center’s parking lot and killed the engine.

  The Heart of Houston Community Center was a converted warehouse about the size of a school gymnasium not far from the local junior high and high school where most of Faith’s kids, except for the youngest, attended school. The center served as an after-school hangout for the neighborhood kids, as well as a haven for them when things got too rough at home. There was a center director on duty at all times, and every other month the center and a few of the local teen shelters and group foster homes, such as Faith’s House, got together to organize a dance for the kids.

  Lights blazed in the windows, and the walls vibrated with the rhythm of a rap song blaring from the speakers as Faith and Jesse crossed the parking lot.

  “The place looks really crowded tonight.”

  Faith’s soft voice drew Jesse’s attention, and he noted the trembling of her lips. A shiver rolled through him, part fear, part anxiety, and part restless anticipation. He realized as he followed Faith to the double doors that they were her feelings coursing through him, and he couldn’t help but reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  Inside, streamers were draped from the basketball hoops and the darkened light fixtures. Swirls of colored lights flashed with the beat of the DJ’s music, illuminating a swarm of teenagers. Some were dancing in the middle of the floor; others stood on the sidelines talking or drinking punch.

  No one paid too much attention as Faith slid into a darkened corner of the bleachers.

  “Don’t you want to say hello?” Jesse motioned past a cluster of kids to Bradley, who manned a refreshment table with a handful of other adults.

  “Maybe later,” she said. “I think I’d like to just sit here for a while.” They both watched as Bradley ladled punch and sniffed every cup. “Someone always tries to spike the punch,” Faith explained at Jesse’s puzzled glance. A smile tugged at her lips. “Bradley’s a stickler when it comes to seeing that the kids stay sober. I think they try to spike the drinks, not to get drunk, but just to see him go through the ritual.”

  Jesse smiled, but the expression died as Faith’s nervousness washed over him. She worried her bottom lip, held her arms about herself, and stared at the sea of kids.

  “I hate to leave you sitting here, but I need to report for duty.” At that moment, a fast song blared from the speakers and someone upped the volume. “Will you be all right?” Jesse tried to shout over the increased noise level.

  “What?”

  “I asked”—he leaned down, his lips grazing her ear—“if you’ll be all right.” The fragrance of roses filled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply.

  “I’ll be fine,” she whispered.

  He didn’t actually hear her voice, though he saw her lips move. Still, the words were there in his head, as vivid and intoxicating as her scent.

  Focus, his mind screamed, and he jerked away.

  “What’s wrong?” she mouthed.

  He motioned to Bradley. “I’ll check on you later,” he shouted, and she nodded.

  Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. She looked too uneasy, too skittish.

  He leaned back down to the warm shell of her ear and the delicious scent. “You’re not planning to slip out the back door, are you?”

  She turned toward him, her lips grazing his jaw. They were so close, the shadows of the bleachers swirling around them, wrapping them in a private cocoon. Just a quarter of an inch and he could kiss her, taste her.

  “You won the bet,” she said, her eyes fixed on his. “I’m not going anywhere until you finish.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  He must have looked doubtful because she nudged his arm, the motion shattering the strange spell that had wrapped around them.

  “You’re here to keep an eye on the kids, not me,” she said, motioning him away. Bradley sniffed a cup of punch and made a face. Then he hefted the punch bowl into his arms and headed for the kitchen. “He needs you more than me,” Faith said, laughter in her voice.

  Liar. The moment the thought flitted through his head, her gaze jerked up to collide with his. Questions swirled in her eyes, and Jesse damned himself for the slip. He could feel her, so the reverse was also true. But Jesse knew about the connection and he’d spent years guarding his emotions, holding back; Faith had felt little from his end so far. If she had felt anything, undoubtedly she’d have thought it was her imagination. What they shared was unbelievable. Impos
sible. At least, it must be from her point of view.

  “Stay put,” he said and turned away, before he could slip again.

  He spent the next two hours inspecting punch, flashing a high-powered flashlight into makeout corners to send the kids scattering, and keeping an eye on Faith.

  As deep in the shadows as she was, no one even knew she was there. She watched from the most remote corner, smiling every now and then, especially when Ricky finally worked up the nerve to ask Emily to slow dance.

  The sight of Faith, sad yet happy at the same time, tugged at something inside of Jesse. She’d wanted to come tonight. He knew it, yet her fear still kept her from really enjoying herself. From joining in and abandoning her spot on those damned bleachers.

  But he meant to change all that.

  “Let’s dance,” he told her when a slow song started up and he managed to find someone to man the flashlight.

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t you know how?”

  She shrugged. “Mr. Wells—he was my guardian after my parents died—didn’t let me date until I turned eighteen, and by then I had my hands full with college classes and volunteer work.”

  “You’ve never been out dancing with a man before?”

  “Sure I have. I can do a mean limbo—Ricky taught me how at the neighborhood luau last year—and there were plenty of men in line in front of me, and behind.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He grasped her hand, her fingers so small and warm in his. “I’m talking man to woman, body to body, couple dancing. Come on.” Before she could shake her head, he hauled her upright and led her from the shadows, down the bleacher steps, toward the floor.

  “I don’t think this is such a good idea. What if I step on your feet?”

  “It’s a great idea, and I doubt you could do much damage.”

  “This isn’t the kind of music I’m used to—”

  “Ms. Jansen!” a girl shrieked from a few feet away. In seconds, a cluster of heads swiveled in their direction. Excited murmurs floated through the group, and then at least a half-dozen kids started toward them.

  Jesse read the terror in Faith’s eyes, but it wasn’t because she was facing the kids from Faith’s House. No, her gaze was riveted on one in particular.