Waiting on Faith (She's Beautiful Series Book 2)

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Waiting on Faith (She's Beautiful Series Book 2) Page 4

by Nicole Richard


  “Thanks, Monique. Although, I can’t take credit for all of the decorations. Most of it came from my aunt and uncle.”

  “It’s still a really cute place, and it has a great yard.”

  “Yeah, the owners did a fantastic job.”

  Thankfully, she let me off the hook. It turned out that talking about a yard was a great way to kill a conversation, and I was able to go back to hiding behind my drink.

  I moved all my attention to the guys again. They had moved on to sports, and AJ and Levi were rehashing some good ol’ days story about when they played baseball together in high school. AJ flipped some steaks on the grill and turned to Cyrus, asking him how his family’s bait and tackle shop was doing. Dear Heaven, when he answered, I melted a little bit. His voice was low and smooth with just the right amount of rough. As I sat there listening but pretending I wasn’t, I learned that Cyrus had two sisters, his family owned the local bait and tackle shop, and he lived about five minutes away from me. The last bit was what had me the most interested, but I tried to hide it.

  “All right ladies, gents, and minions, the food is done,” AJ called out and Monique waved the boys over. I stood, and Addie followed me to the kitchen.

  By the way she hooked her arm through mine and walked with a little more bounce in her step, I figured she either had more than a few drinks or was about to start questioning me about one of the guys.

  “So Cy, huh?” For such a sweet person, she could be so wicked at times.

  Whipping my head toward her, I feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh come on, Natalie. Don’t think for one second I didn’t see the way the two of you were sneaking glances at each other. And that little staring session? I think even I got a little turned on by it,” she joked, popping her hip and resting one hand on it.

  I scoffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I stuck my head in the fridge, mindlessly rummaging around so she couldn’t see my face. I was pretty sure my cheeks were stained somewhere between crimson and beet red.

  “You are so full of it. He’s a good guy! Intense, but good.” She picked up the utensils and paper plates. When I stood and turned to look at her again, I raised an eyebrow in a silent question. “No, I’ve never been involved with him. He’s like a brother to me. Cy and Levi have been best friends since we were all little.” She smiled her beauty pageant smile before taking whatever she had in her hands out back.

  Well . . . What the hell was that all about?

  After a couple of hours and I don’t know how many hard lemonades, Grace and AJ bowed out of the party. They also offered to take Dion as well so Monique could have some time alone to relax. Being a parent held so many responsibilities, let alone being a single mother. A shiver passed through me as an unwanted thought of Trent came to mind.

  The sound of Cyrus’s voice and his gentle touch on my clenched fist broke me out of a zone. “Hey, you okay? You look so far away, like you saw a ghost.”

  I unclenched my fist and waved my hand as if to brush off his concern.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just remembered something I would rather forget.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Sure.”

  The single word was casual, but he looked upset. Before I could get the courage to ask him about it though, he changed gears. “Hey, you want another drink?” He gestured to the bottle in my hand. I raised it an inch to look at the empty bottle at the same time that he reached out to take it from me. I felt his skin against mine. It was a miniscule touch—barely a brush of warmth against my skin, but it was enough to have my eyes darting to look at him. My heart pattered at the sight of his tongue licking his lips. Something in me wanted to jump in his lap and fuse my lips to his.

  I stood quickly before I made a fool of myself.

  “Excuse me while I get another drink, can I get one for you too?”

  Cyrus stood and placed his palm on my forearm, and I swear a butterfly fluttered up from my belly straight past my lips.

  “I’ll come with you.” His voice was hushed. He stood and followed me inside the house.

  “Thank you for letting us crash your party,” Cyrus said when I handed him his bottle.

  “You’re welcome, always more the merrier.” I smiled nervously while he took a drink and then tapped the bottle against his bottom lip.

  But that was it. He didn’t try to start a conversation, and for some reason I was too nervous to spit out anything intelligible. There were a few stolen glances, though. He obviously wasn’t one for too many words, but he piqued my curiosity anyway. He came across as a little aloof, but his eyes gave him away and had me wanting to know more about him. I should have felt threatened, but his demeanor left me feeling anything but fear, and that left my insides trembling.

  With our drinks in hand, I led Cyrus back outside to rejoin the rest of the group and this time I took the seat next to Addie and Monique while Cyrus sat in his original spot next to Levi.

  A second later, Addie turned her back to the guys, and in a low, hushed voice only Monique and I could hear, she asked, “So, how do you know if your man is really the one for you?”

  I blinked, pretty sure that if she knew my history, she would never have asked me that question.

  MONDAY MORNING WAS rough. Grace was at a doctor’s appointment, leaving me to man the front office alone. The phone kept ringing, there was a constant stream of people picking up orders, and there wasn’t enough coffee in the world to help me stay focused. I had just gotten off the phone with a customer who spent twenty minutes questioning an invoice that had only three items on it, when the front door opened again. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever was about to be thrown at me, and then I turned. It took an extra second and maybe a few slow blinks before I registered that Cyrus had just walked in.

  “Hey, fancy meeting you here.” I kept my voice calm and collected, trying hard to sound unaffected.

  “Hey, Natalie.” He half smiled as he avoided eye contact and spun his key ring around his finger. My lips pulled into a small smile. He was such a masculine looking man, but he seemed so shy at the same time. “I didn’t realize you worked here.”

  “Sure do. My Uncle Blair runs the place. What can I do for you?”

  He looked down and then back up at me. “Ordered a few things for some projects I’m working on.”

  “Okay, well let me get your work order, and I’ll check with Joel to see if it’s ready.” I gave him the most reassuring smile I could.

  “Thanks.”

  While Cyrus waited and I rummaged through folders, I found the courage to make small talk. “So, Cyrus, are you originally from here?”

  “Yup.” Was all he offered as he fidgeted with his keys. I waited a few seconds.

  “Did you play baseball with Levi and AJ?” He pursed his lips and shook his head.

  I wasn’t about to force him to talk to me, so instead I opted for silence. I had just shoved two more files to the side when he surprised me by asking, “What about you? Have you been here long?”

  Noticing my surprise, a small smile splayed across his cheeks.

  Good Lord, he is sexy when he smiles.

  “No, I grew up in Houston.”

  “Excuse me, Natalie,” Joel, one of the loaders, said as he walked through the door and spotted Cyrus standing in the lobby. “Hey, Cyrus. I was about to tell Natalie to give you a call and let you know your order was ready.” He reached out his hand in greeting.

  Before he followed Joel out, Cyrus handed me his credit card. I heard a soft sigh as I turned around. I took a chance and glanced back over my shoulder in time to see Cy take a step toward me. I didn’t even think he realized he had moved closer to me because when he saw me looking, he whispered, “Shit,” retreated a step and clasped his hands behind his head, squeezing his elbows together.

  “You okay?”

  He nodded. “Yup,” was all he said before turning and following Joel out the door.

  I wa
tched him until the door shut behind him.

  On my way home from work, I stopped by a little deli I found on one of my lunch breaks and grabbed a Cream of Broccoli soup and a Caesar Salad.

  Inserting Pretty Woman in the DVD player, I made myself comfortable in my oversized pale-turquoise Papasan chair and enjoyed the quiet.

  Solitude kind of sucked sometimes. I mean, yes, it helped me be a stronger, more independent person, but it was so lonely. I glanced at my single-serving soup and half-eaten salad and a wave of loneliness washed over me. I grabbed my phone in hopes of resolving my crappy mood—I sent Spence a text.

  ME: Miss you! :(

  When he didn’t reply right away, I set my phone down and snuggled deeper under the blanket I had over me, turning my attention back to the movie. Well aware that I was watching some of my favorite Hollywood acting, I couldn’t help but love how Edward and Vivian met under not so great circumstances, and in the end, they still fell in love.

  The way the characters overcame their differences gave me a twisted kind of hope.

  Would I ever find that kind of love?

  Trent had never really loved me. His actions toward me were pure manipulation. I wasn’t sure what he gained out of it.

  Strong comforting arms brought me out of my slumber, scooping me up and carrying me away. I didn’t want to open my eyes. It felt too good. Warm lips pressed a soft kiss to my lips before I felt myself being lowered to the bed. I refused to let go, though, so I pressed myself tighter against the deliciously masculine body. Half asleep, I peeked up at a half-smiling Cyrus. His lips looked soft and inviting, but his eyes were intense.

  Tingles ran the length of my spine as the warmth of his hand touched my face and he brushed my hair to the side. Then the rough skin on his knuckles traced down my cheek, over my neck and collarbone, and ended at the swell of my breasts.

  My nipples hardened, and I shut my eyes. I wanted him to touch me everywhere. Slowly he pulled my top off and laid me back against my pillow. Warm breath tickled my skin as he pressed light kisses to my cheek, neck, and shoulder. He was building up the shivers and tingles that flowed freely over me, sensations I had never experienced before. I wanted more and arched against him, urging him on.

  A blanket of heat washed over my skin as his fingers ran down the length of my body until he reached the top of my shorts. Hooking his thumbs under the elastic, he gently slid them, along with my panties, down my legs and tossed them carelessly onto the floor. Needing to look at him, I forced my eyes open as he pulled his own shirt over his head, exposing the long, muscled length of his torso. It made my mouth water. He slid his jeans down his thick thighs, and I almost tasted what was hiding behind his dark-gray boxer briefs. My thighs rubbed together, trying to tame the pulsating feeling.

  I was almost fully awake by the time Cyrus tossed his jeans somewhere behind him and slid into bed with me, my back to his front. He didn’t speak; his form of communication was delicate kisses along the back of my neck. It was a painfully slow assault over my skin that made my heart race and my eyes drift shut. I needed more. Boldness overtook me, and I reached back for his hand and brought it around, guiding it right between my legs.

  “I need you,” I whispered breathlessly.

  He pulled my leg back over his hip, my body hummed in excited anticipation. He brushed his fingers against me, and I closed my eyes. My back arched into his chest and my hips tilted backward in invitation.

  Then nothing. Confusion blew through my mind, and my eyes opened.

  Cyrus was gone.

  Trent was there.

  I shook for a different reason than lust.

  He was holding a bundled, screaming baby in one arm and his 9mm was held loosely in his other hand.

  “You thought you could run, Nats?” He snarled. “But I’m here, I see you.”

  Trent cocked his head to one side, and his once handsome features twisted into something terrifying. The baby continued to scream, but he didn’t try to console it. I was frozen—beyond petrified—again.

  How did he find me? Oh God, he was going to kill me was my last thought before he raised the gun and pulled the trigger. I threw my body to the side, trying to escape, but the impact of the bullet knocked the life out of me.

  And that’s when I woke up, coming face to face with my living room floor. My heart beat erratically and cold sweat broke out all over my skin. I pushed myself up a bit and glanced around with wide eyes before collapsing again on the cold floor. Inhaling deep breaths in through my nose and slowly out of my mouth, I repeated the breathing technique I learned in therapy until my heart rate slowed to a normal.

  That was when the tears fell.

  I couldn’t believe he was still haunting me. Screaming, I thrashed into the night, “FUCK YOU TRENT! Go to hell. I hate you.” The wracking sobs took over, and I choked out a defeated whisper, “I hate you.”

  After a while my body ached from lying there on the hard wood floor. I grabbed the edges of the chair and pulled myself up, needing the comfort of my bed. I shut off the television, and the sound of my cell phone buzzing got my attention. I picked it up off the floor where it must have fallen, shut off the lamp light, and saw there was a text message.

  SPENCER: Sorry. I was out on a date.

  Call me later.

  I miss you lots too.

  “Morning, Grace,” I said as I strolled through the front door of work.

  “Well, look at you. I know you’re not that happy to be at work,” she commented, shaking her head. She put her things away and turned on her computer. After the night I had, I was surprised I was in such a good mood too.

  “So . . .” ”

  “What?”

  “Oh no . . .” Grace pointed a finger at me, smirking. “Don’t you what me, Nat. I told you about AJ. Now, what was with all those goo-goo eyes between you and Cyrus on Saturday? There were a couple of times I thought he’d haul you off to your bedroom and we wouldn’t see you for the rest of the weekend.” She giggled.

  “Grace, I just met him, there isn’t anything going on. He’s nice and all, but he’s kind of intense. He doesn’t say much, even yesterday— ”

  “What about yesterday? Did you see him?”

  I nodded and rubbed my clasped hands together, a nervous habit. “Yeah, he came in here for a few things. I tried making small talk. First, he answered with one word, and then he didn’t answer at all. He just nodded his head.” I shrugged, and thinking about him made butterflies swarm inside me. “Then he asked where I was from.”

  “Humph, well maybe we’ll have to ask Addie about him. I’m sure she knows his story since he’s her brother’s best friend and all.”

  I shrugged. “She already told me a little about him, said he’s a good guy. . . just intense.” I shrugged again not knowing what more to say.

  “Well, maybe you’ll just have to talk to him yourself.” She smiled at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Would it be so bad?”

  Hadn’t I already tried to talk to him? Did I want to be the one to pursue this, or did I want him to pursue me? I didn’t know, but it gave me something to spend my day pondering.

  “SEVEN DAYS.

  Seven long, tiring days since that woman took up residence in my brain. Maybe I should man up and ask her out.”

  I looked down and watched my knee bounce erratically as I repeatedly flipped my phone in my palm, laying it on thick to Boones. Was I that screwed up in the head that I needed reassurance from my dog?

  “Screw it.” I stood abruptly from my seat, grabbed my truck keys off the counter, and made my way out of the house. I would just show up. That way, I wouldn’t chicken out. What was I thinking, that was my only option— I didn’t even have her phone number.

  I pulled into Natalie’s driveway, cut the engine, and stared at her front door. Maybe this was not such a good idea after all. I shoved the key back into the ignition but paused, holding it there for a few more seconds before dropping my hand to my lap. I
blew out a hot breath and reached to remove the key.

  Lighten up, Davis. She’s just a girl.

  The victory medal went to my heart for winning my mental tug-of-war. I jumped out of my truck and forced one foot in front of the other all the way to the front door—and knocked.

  And knocked again.

  Looking down, I scuffed my boots on the porch floor and knocked again.

  Maybe she wasn’t home. I rubbed the back of my neck in irritation and turned, but as I took my first step, I heard the front door creak open and a tiny whisper. The poor thing sounded like she had a frog lodged halfway down her throat.

  Slowly turning back around, I caught sight of Natalie, who was beautiful in an obviously sick kind of way. Her eyes were glassy, her hair was a mess, and she was still in her pajamas, holding a tissue to her nose.

  I stepped closer, but she hid half her body behind the door and held up her free hand. “Don’t, I’m warning you. If you don’t want to get sick, stay away.” She sniffled back the snot threatening to drip.

  I chuckled. Did she think that her being sick would keep me away? Her concern for my health was cute, even if it was unnecessary. I took a couple of steps closer.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked and then coughed into her tissue.

  “Can I come in?”

  She shook her head.

  “Please?”

  She stared at me for a couple of beats before opening the door wide and stepping to the side.

  “I’m warning you— ” She coughed and sneezed at the same time. This poor girl did look like shit, not that I would tell her that. “Don’t blame me if you catch this.”

  I nodded as I entered. “Fair enough.” I stood there waiting until she locked the door and walked toward her living room. I followed and barely managed to stop the smile as she flopped down on her couch, pulled a blanket over herself, and sneezed again.

  “What brings you by?” She reached for the tissue box, but it was a weak attempt to get it, so I got it for her.

  “Thank you. You should wash your hands now.”

 

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