“Are your braids too tight?” The last thing he needed was some high-strung, antagonistic woman in his life.
“Fine.” Britney flipped one of those braids over her shoulder. “But you’re making a mistake by giving up. You and Faith would be great together. Don’t forget, I inherited Great-grandma’s sight.”
“The only thing you inherited was a tendency to overdramatize situations.”
He took it back. She must’ve also inherited their Nonna’s ability to skewer a man with one dark look. “I was going to make you chicken parmigiana for fixing the washing machine,” Brit said with an indignant sniff, “but just for that, all you’re getting is a thank-you card.” She then whirled around on the heel of one of her cowboy boots and sashayed out of the room.
Nick shut his eyes. God, please save me from the women in my life.
Amen.
He hoped Britney listened this time. She’d been after him to ask Faith out ever since she’d first hired her. What Brit wasn’t aware of was that he’d given in and had invited Faith out to dinner a few months ago. An invitation she’d quickly and politely declined.
He didn’t need to be told no twice.
CHAPTER THREE
TEN MINUTES AFTER FAITH got home from work that evening, the phone rang. She remained where she was, staring into the refrigerator, hoping she might find inspiration for dinner. “Austin, can you get that, please?”
The second ring ended abruptly. “It’s for you,” Austin called from the living room.
Shutting the refrigerator, she grabbed a washed apple out of the bowl on the table and headed into the other room. From his prone position on the sofa, Austin held the phone out, his nose buried in that blasted comic book.
For about the hundredth time that day, she felt guilty over not letting Austin get the comic in the first place. She was so very tired of feeling guilty all the time. But she doubted she’d get any reprieve, seeing as how her list of sins was so damn long.
Like forcing Austin to leave his prized comic book collection behind two towns ago. Which was what happened when you took off in the middle of the night as if the devil himself were after you.
Unfortunately, that’s exactly who they were running from. And he would never stop searching for them.
She bit into her apple, then took the phone, holding the mouthpiece against her stomach as she chewed and swallowed. She swatted the tops of Austin’s sneakers with the back of her hand. “Get those dirty shoes off my couch.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not looking up from the comic as he toed his shoes off onto the floor.
Faith pursed her lips and gave him her best Mom stare until he lifted his head. “What?” he asked.
“Put your shoes away,” she said around another bite.
“But I just got to the good part.”
She nodded toward his shoes. “Go.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes.
She lifted the phone to her ear as someone knocked on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Austin said, rushing past her.
“Check to see who it is first,” she reminded him, then said into the phone, “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” Britney said. “Now, promise you won’t get mad…”
Faith watched Austin move aside the curtain covering the door’s window. “That is so not a good lead-in.”
Whoever knocked must not be a stranger, because Austin undid the dead bolt and opened the door.
“You’re right,” Britney admitted, “and you can be mad, but remember, I’m doing this because I want to help you.”
“I don’t suppose that help involves an idea of what to cook for dinner using half a pound of ground beef, two carrots and some stale saltines?”
“Uh…no. Sorry. But this is better,” Britney promised. “I got you a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.” Faith bit into the apple again as Austin stepped aside, giving her a clear view of her doorstep. She inhaled sharply and coughed to dislodge a piece of apple from her windpipe. “Never mind,” she choked out. “It’s here.”
“Already? He was supposed to give me time to prepare you first.”
Phone still at her ear, Faith walked over and stood behind Austin, who tipped his head back to look up at her. “Mr. Coletti’s here,” he said.
“I can see that.” She made the mistake of meeting Nick’s unflinching, cool gaze. In her stomach, it felt as if a baby bird was about to take flight. “Why don’t you put your shoes away and then set the table for me?”
“Are you talking to me?” Britney asked.
“Now why on earth would I ask you to put away your shoes?” Faith said.
“Well, I did leave them by the door…”
Faith smiled and shook her head. “I was talking to Austin. Just…hold on a minute, would you?” She nudged Austin’s shoulder.
“Bye,” he told Nick.
“See ya, Austin.”
She waited until her son was out of earshot. “Britney says you didn’t give her time to prepare me.” Still holding the phone to her ear, she kept her other hand on the door frame, blocking his entrance to her home. Her sanctuary.
If he didn’t get the message she didn’t want him here, he wasn’t as bright as she’d given him credit for.
He set his toolbox on the blue-painted wooden porch. “Should I come back later?”
“Tell him not to go anywhere,” Britney demanded. “Even if you’re mad at him—”
“I never said that.” She bit into her apple. Hey, she hadn’t eaten anything since she’d tried to finish her leftover ham sandwich hours earlier. She was too hungry to worry about crunching in someone’s ear.
“He told me how you got upset about him paying Austin to run an errand.”
Her face heating, Faith leaned against the doorjamb. As soon as she’d walked away from Nick that morning she’d known she’d been out of line. But her fear that he’d been trying to somehow get close to her son by giving Austin something he wanted so badly had overridden her good sense.
“And now he’s standing on my porch with a toolbox at his feet because…why?” Faith asked.
“I asked him to look at your water heater.”
“I’d hate to put him out,” Faith said, straightening.
Nick hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. She squeezed her apple so hard, she half expected to wind up with sauce on her hands.
“He might be able to fix it, which will save you from having to pay a plumber—a plumber who might not even get to it for days. If Nick can’t figure out what’s wrong, he’ll collect his tools and go home. No harm done.”
No harm done? The harm was having Nick Coletti in her house, in her personal business.
“Crap,” Britney said. “Michael’s beeping for me. I have to go. Just let Nicky look at it, okay?”
She hung up in Faith’s ear.
“What’s the verdict?” Nick asked, as if he couldn’t care less one way or the other what she decided.
“I’m not sure why Britney asked you to come over—”
“She’s