Текст книги "All of Me"
Автор книги: Kelly Moran
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
On their way out of the subdivision, they passed a few of the other mansions nestled in the cove. The houses sat on a lot of land and were spaced pretty far apart, offering a great deal of privacy. The one closest to Lacey’s property was in foreclosure. Alec remembered that house. His dad had tended the gardens there for an eccentric old broad who used to model back in the forties.
He pulled out and onto the main road, reorienting himself with where things were. Most of the shops around here were for tourists, complete with inflated prices, and not the full-on grocery store Faith was seeking. He quickly got off the main drag and weaved his way through traffic until he hit the northwestern edge of the city.
Faith didn’t say a word on the drive. Just kept her head tipped toward the sun and eyes either closed or wide open and scanning her surroundings. She’d never been to the beach, he remembered. He’d have to take her around, show her some of the hot spots and happenings. Except he hadn’t been in Wilmington long term in years. Perhaps he’d get Jake and Lacey, along with Cole and Mia, and they’d go out as a group.
He parked the car at a chain grocery and turned to face her, expecting a comment on his driving. She didn’t offer one. Ever since Laura’s accident, people—the ones who knew about Laura, anyhow—found it necessary to point out his recklessness when he got behind the wheel. He wasn’t driving the car Laura crashed any more than he was an inattentive driver. Alec just craved the speed.
Faith’s hair was all crazy around her head, her cheeks flushed. Without thinking, he pushed the strands off her face and smoothed them down. Then he got a whiff of her sweet scent and instead of pulling back, he let his hand settle into the softness.
Apparently it wasn’t the brownies that he’d smelled the other night. It was her. Like a sugar cookie, or vanilla, or something wholesome to that effect. It made him want to bury his face in her hair and nibble his way up her neck.
“You okay?”
He blinked and dropped his hand. Cleared his throat. “Sure. You just . . . had your hair in your face. Ready?”
If possible, her cheeks grew even more pink. “Yes. Ready.”
Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he followed her around the store as she added items to her cart. Wheat bread. Skim milk. Greek yogurt. Skinless chicken breasts. Broccoli, carrots, apples . . . Christ. Didn’t she eat?
She bypassed the junk food aisle altogether.
“Okay, Faith. Hold up.” He grabbed the end of her cart and pulled it down the aisle. Snagging a bag of potato chips, he tossed them in her cart. “Better. Let’s find you some Twinkies.”
“No. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You need to eat.”
She straightened. “I eat.”
His lip curled as he looked in her cart. “Real food. Live a little. Buy the chips. Embrace the chips.”
“I can’t.”
This gave him pause. “Why?”
Fumbling with the chain around her neck, she grasped the pendant and dragged it back and forth. Her gaze drifted away, light-years away, as if she was battling with herself over whether she should talk. He waited her out. He’d wait all day. Finally, she took a deep breath and leveled him with a stare.
“I only have one kidney. I watch what I eat, monitor salt intake, and avoid caffeine so I don’t do any long-term damage.”
Three things happened in the span of two seconds flat. He suddenly had the urge to punch his own face, draw her to his chest until he wasn’t shaking anymore, and do whatever it took to wipe that expression from her features. Instead, his brain disconnected from his mouth. “Why do you only have one kidney?”
Her teeth went to work on her lower lip as she focused on his shirt. “Someone else needed it.”
An elderly gentleman made his way toward them, lifted a bag of pretzels from the rack, and kept going. Alec kept his eyes on her face. This wasn’t the time for this, nor was it any of his business, but hell if he was letting this drop. Call it writer’s curiosity. When they were alone, he’d ask the rest.
He took the bag out of her cart and replaced the chips on the shelf. “You about done?”
“We can check out.”
She spoke so softly that if he hadn’t been watching her mouth, he might not have heard her. That mermaid voice that was doing funny things to him.
While she checked out, he bagged her groceries. They walked to his car, where he put the bags in the trunk. Once they were seated inside, he turned over the ignition, put the car in drive, changed his mind, and shoved the gear back into park.
“Are you dying? Is that it?”
“No.” Just that. No. And an expression that was carefully blank.
He turned, his fingers tightening on the wheel as he stared straight ahead.
“People can live with only one kidney. I just don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
He had no clue why this sickening dread tore at his gut, or why her words made him want to break something. He barely knew her. He shouldn’t be invested in whether she was sick or not. In honesty, she could have four hearts and six lungs, and it shouldn’t matter.
“You’re angry.”
He put the car in drive. “I’m not.”
“You are. I don’t . . .” She reached out for him but quickly drew her hand away.
He pulled into traffic. “You don’t what?” he asked, keeping his voice calm.
Instead of answering, she turned her head away and watched the scenery pass.
chapter
six
Alec strode into Jake and Lacey’s house and called out for Lacey. Jake was working, but Lacey’s car was in the drive. Their housekeeper came into the living room, wiping her hands on a towel.
“She’s upstairs in her studio, sir.”
He nodded his thanks and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Classical music droned from the speakers in the corner and Lacey, her back to him, was standing in front of a canvas.
“Knock, knock.”
She turned but her usual smile was slow in coming. She walked to the iPod station and turned the music down. “Hey. Everything okay?”
No, but it wasn’t her problem he couldn’t shake the shit Faith had said from his mind. “I’m good. I was wondering if you’d be up for getting everyone together for a night out. Dinner, a club, something. Tonight’s probably too late, but next Friday?”
“Do you mean with Cole and Mia?”
“And Faith.”
Now she smiled like she meant it. “Sure. I’ll talk to everyone. It’ll be fun.”
He nodded and turned to go, but her canvas caught his attention. Or rather, what she was painting on the canvas. “What’s that?”
“Oh, come look.” She wiped her hands on a cloth and handed him a printout. “I went over to Faith’s earlier to invite her to join me and Mia at the spa tomorrow. She had this picture on the mantel of her and her sister. I snapped a picture with my phone.”
“I thought it was just her and her folks.” Wasn’t that what she’d said at lunch this week? The photo was obviously taken years ago. Both girls wore big grins and hospital gowns. The other one, Faith’s sister, had no hair.
“Her sister died from cancer. It must’ve been a while ago because that’s the only photo she had out.”
Cancer. That . . . sucked.
They looked like sisters. The facial shape and pouty mouth bore similarities. But where Faith’s eyes were golden brown, her sister’s were hazel. She also seemed to have a good four or five years on Faith.
Faith who ate only insanely healthy food, went to bed at a decent hour, and only had one kidney.
Someone else needed it.
Her sister? Alec didn’t know a lot of the medical aspects of cancer treatment, but would a new kidney be a requirement? Maybe the sister had renal cancer? He shook his head.
“I thought I’d paint the two of them, but I don’t know what her sister’s hair looked like before she lost it all. Do you think she’ll be upset I’m doing this?”
Hell if he knew, but it was a nice thing Lacey was doing. In the painting she’d started, she’d replaced the hospital gowns with regular T-shirts. Also gone was the hospital bed and the tubes and wires protruding from them both. Lacey had painted the ocean behind them instead.
Alec examined the picture more closely, wondering why Faith was connected to the equipment if she was healthy. Maybe this photo was taken when she donated the kidney. It was obviously a hard topic for Faith to discuss, as she’d changed the subject when he’d asked about her habits.
No wonder. He felt like an ass for teasing her.
He handed the printout back to Lacey. “I’m sure she’ll love it. You can always ask her about the hair when you see her.” If Lacey was attempting to replace the negative images by removing the hospital setting, then leaving her sister’s head bald wouldn’t be wise.
“I hope you’re right. I don’t want to upset her. I painted Cole, Dean, and I like this for Cole’s living room. He loved it.”
Dean being their brother who had died ten-plus years ago. It had hit Cole and Lacey very hard. Had hit everyone hard.
Lacey’s painting captured Faith’s smile and eyes in vivid detail. Guess her skills went beyond landscapes. “You’re very good.”
“You think?” She beamed a smile with all the innocence of youth, clearly not seeking compliments. Guess everyone had their insecurities. Even rich princesses.
“I do.” He walked to the door. “Back to the writing cave for me.”
Except when he returned to the guesthouse, intent on pounding out some words if it killed him, images of Faith with IVs and hospital gowns swam before his eyes, blending with images of Laura from years ago. The look on Faith’s face when she’d explained her diet was just as haunting. He forced himself to think of the sweet smile Faith had when he drove with the top down, but that only caused more chaos in his head.
Fuck it. He scrubbed his hands over his face and retrieved a beer from the fridge to sit out on the back deck. But he couldn’t sit either. So he paced.
Eventually, the restlessness eased and he leaned against the railing. Dusk was starting its descent, taking with it some of the heavy humidity from the air. A few sailboats were still in the water off in the distance. Gulls circled overhead. Waves lapped the shore. He took it all in, hoping for a glimpse of inspiration to get words down. Anything he could hold on to with both hands.
Damn, but he couldn’t shake the emptiness inside. Even as a child, he’d had fictional characters and story ideas for company. Losing that was like solitary confinement. Isolation. He was powerless. Useless.
Lost.
Glancing to his left, he caught Faith on the other side of the beach, walking toward the water. Her arms were crossed in front of her and, just as she’d done before, she watched the ocean with still composure. Everything about her resonated serenity. If not for the loneliness and longing in her eyes, he’d swear she had no emotions. He wondered how long it took her to train herself not to desire. To want. Because Faith, for some ungodly reason, appeared satisfied with being invisible. Where others pushed and fought for more—more money, more friends, more status—Faith was content, just as she was, in her little corner of the world.
Or so it seemed to him. He knew he was right, though. He’d watched people his entire life, could read them.
She pulled a phone from her pocket and stared at the screen. After several long moments, her arms fell to her sides and she plopped her butt on the sand. Still holding the phone, she brought the heels of her palms to her eyes and rocked.
He was halfway down the beach before he realized what he was doing and stopped. She hadn’t come out here for comfort or company. She’d come out to be alone. Obviously something had her in tears. Tears in general he could handle. Faith in tears? Probably not.
And he was the last person who could make someone feel better. He’d proven that over and over again.
Backtracking, although he really wanted to move forward, he made his way to the guesthouse to leave her to it.
* * *
“What can I get you to drink?”
Faith looked at the glasses of champagne Mia and Lacey held, and then up at the spa attendant. Should she ask for water? Would it be rude to refuse a drink? She never indulged in alcohol, not even wine. But as long as she didn’t do it in excess, one glass wouldn’t hurt.
“Whatever they have is fine. Thank you.”
“So.” Lacey leaned back in her pedicure chair. “Alec wants to get everyone together for a night out.”
Mia wiggled her toes in the footbath. “What’s he have in mind?”
“Clubbing or dinner was mentioned. What do you think?”
Faith didn’t realize Lacey was talking to her until no one answered. “Oh. Sure. I can watch Ginny for you while you guys go out.”
Lacey laughed. “We meant for you to join us.”
Her chest swelled a little at the offer, but . . . “Oh, well . . . I’m not sure.”
Alec was a bigwig author from New York, used to brushing elbows with the rich and famous. Clubbing was probably a nightly thing for him. Lacey and Cole were upper-crust elite. Martinis and caviar kind of people. Mia, though from an impoverished childhood, had settled into her new, comfortable life here. But Faith would never fit in.
“Faith’s got a point. We’d have no one to watch Ginny.”
Lacey mulled that over. “Would Bea do it? Ginny knows her.”
Faith didn’t know how long the Covingtons had employed Bea as their housekeeper, but Ginny did seem very comfortable with the young woman. She was also a hard worker and very responsible.
Mia tipped her head to the side. “Perhaps. I’d hate to ask her to stay after she’s worked all day. Plus, if Cole and I are going to take that trip, I don’t want to upset Ginny by leaving her with a sitter, even for just a few hours.”
“I’ll stay with Ginny,” Faith said again, hoping they’d take her up on the offer.
“No, no.” Lacey took a sip of champagne. “You have to come. We’ll just have to do something Ginny can participate in.”
The attendants came back and towel-dried their feet. Awkwardness caused Faith to squirm in her seat. She had never had a pedicure before. Seemed like a waste of money. But then the attendant started rubbing lotion into her feet, massaging her soles, and she had to bite back a moan. Okay, this wasn’t so bad.
“We could do the pier,” Mia suggested.
“Good idea. They have games and the Ferris wheel.” Lacey pulled her phone out of her purse. “What’s your number, Faith?”
Faith rattled it off.
Moments later a text chimed. Faith dug her cell out of her pocket, seeing that Lacey had added her to a chat with Mia, Cole, Jake, and Alec.
Lacey: How’s the pier for next Friday sound? We can bring Ginny.
Jake: Works for me.
Cole: Sure. Mia? This okay?
Mia: Yes. I expect popcorn and prizes.
Jake: lol
Alec: I’m in, too. Faith, you comin’?
She knew she was wearing a stupid grin, but couldn’t help it. They wanted her to join them. Were including her. Alec specifically called her out. Plus, the pier was something she could do without feeling like the oddball. She thumbed out a response.
I’ll be there.
Lacey: Good. It’s settled. 7? Hey, Jake. I’m getting my toenails painted a naughty shade of red.
Alec: And on that note, I’m out. Bye.
Mia laughed from the next seat. “What color are you getting, Faith?”
“I don’t know.” A “naughty shade of red” didn’t suit her personality. Was nail polish supposed to match your personality? She glanced at the selections in the tray. There was a light iridescent blue that drew her. “This one.”
“I like that color.” Mia peeked at Lacey, who was still texting away. Her gaze settled back on Faith. “It took me a while to get used to all this, too,” she whispered. “I grew up wondering what Ginny and I were going to eat from one day to the next. But Cole and Lacey aren’t the flaunt-their-money type. They both donate to charity. And Alec and Jake came from a blue-collar family. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around us.”
These people had barely known her a week and had already accepted her into their group. Meanwhile, her parents hadn’t initiated a conversation once. Faith took a sip of champagne to clear the lump in her throat. The bubbles tickled going down and caused a warmth in her belly.
“Thanks, Mia.”
Her cell chimed. Seeing Alec’s name on her phone shouldn’t make her heart pound and her stomach flutter. Yet it did.
Alec: What color polish are you getting?
She laughed at the absurd question and typed out her response.
Blue.
Alec: Like your ocean. Catch you tomorrow.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Her ocean. What did he mean by that?
“Is there something going on between you and Alec?”
Faith’s head whipped up to find Mia staring at her, amusement crinkling her eyes.
“With Alec? No.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why you’re smiling?”
Was she? Oh boy. “I’ve been trying to help him with his writer’s block. That’s all.”
The acrid scent of polish filled her nose as the attendant began painting her nails. The color was nearly sheer, hinting at a bluish color rather than throwing it in her face. She liked the look it gave her feet when she moved, the way it caught the light.
“You know it would be okay if something was going on with Alec. He’s pretty sexy, if you ask me. A nice guy, too.”
As if Alec Winston, a bestselling author who was too handsome for his own good, would be interested in her. Even if the sky fell and it were to happen, how could that possibly last? He’d be going back to New York in a couple months.
Faith shook her head. Why was she even thinking like this?
Lacey put her phone away and examined her feet. “Cute.” She swiveled to face Faith. “You ready for that haircut?”
By the time Faith settled into bed that night with a book and a cup of steaming chamomile, she had a slightly shorter haircut with layers, toenail polish she couldn’t stop admiring the look of, and five new contacts in her phone.
And plans for Friday night.
chapter
seven
Alec gave it three days, but not one syllable had been added to his book. He was going loonier than the characters he wrote about. Or used to write about. He’d held off visiting Faith so far, not wanting to delve into her being the reason why he got that one and only paragraph out in the first place.
But it was because of her. She’d done . . . something to get the words to click in his brain again, even if for just a short time.
And he liked her. Awkward, reserved, quiet Faith. She wasn’t anything like his typical girlfriends, or anything like anyone he knew. She didn’t swoon over him or demand his time. It was oddly refreshing. Perhaps that explained his interest—his curiosity mixed with the puzzle of her. The creative side of him would be drawn to someone like Faith, if for no other reason than to figure her out.
Maybe she could fix him again. He shut down his laptop and headed out into the heat, not above begging at this point.
A storm was brewing to the west, the air heavy and ominous. Dark clouds split the sky and were heading toward the coastline fast. He’d give it another hour max before it hit.
The housekeeper let him in and ushered him to the living room, where Ginny was reading to Mia. Faith sat in a corner chair, making notes of some kind in a binder. She’d done something different with her hair. Not a drastic change. Subtle. Instead of the soft reddish-brown waves brushing her shoulders, they hovered just above, looking fuller as they framed her face.
Christ. He was noticing her hair now.
Mia glanced up. “Alec, what a great surprise. Right, Ginny?”
Ginny nodded and started jabbering about the book she was reading. Apparently she’d grown an interest in ghost stories since he’d arrived in town. He was so amused by her chatter he almost missed Faith’s attempted exit.
“Where’re you off to?”
She glanced at the binder in her hand. “I was going to go work in the kitchen. You know, let you guys visit.”
It was like she was conditioned to be invisible. That irritated him to no end and made him want to find out why. Instead, he drew in air slowly to ebb the aggravation before speaking. “I came to see you, actually.”
“Oh.”
Her favorite word. Oh. Always surprised by any positive attention. “Writing stuff. I could use your help.”
Why that made her shoulders relax, he didn’t know. “Sure. Ginny and I were just about to start a batch of cookies. Would you like to join us? Is that all right, Mia?”
Mia closed the book and smiled. “Of course it’s okay. You don’t even have to ask.”
Ginny jumped off the sofa and circled Alec. “Yeah. Help us.”
He laughed. “Will I get to eat any of these said cookies?”
“Yesss,” Ginny dragged out her answer with an eye roll for emphasis.
“Well, then. Lead the way.”
Mia gave Faith a knowing look. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
Left in the doorway alone for a second, he turned to Faith. “What was that look about?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Come on. Let’s load you up on sugar.” She headed down the hallway.
“Fine, distract me with cookies, but you’ll only make me more curious. You women have this ESP communication thing that could bury NASA in research for—”
She sighed and halted. “Mia thinks something’s going on between us.” She paused, then added, “NASA doesn’t need to be informed.”
Ha. Humor. He liked that. First, time to backtrack. “What does she think is going on?” Apparently he wasn’t above playing coy either.
One eyebrow lifted as her lips twisted in the cutest Oh, please expression. “You’re a writer. Figure it out.”
“I’m not a romance writer.”
They neared the end of the hallway. “Yet you managed to catch on, all on your own.”
She had spunk buried under all that stoicism. The first stirrings of attraction started to pull in his gut. Okay, maybe not the first. “Why does this upset you?” He followed her into the kitchen.
She stuck her head in the fridge. “Because nothing is going on.”
He should really, really just let this go. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this. “Why does it bother you if people think there is?”
She went oddly quiet, setting two sticks of butter and a carton of eggs on the island.
“You’re not going to answer me, Faith?” The tone of his voice held a challenge, but damn, his temple was starting to throb in frustration.
What was wrong with the possibility of something brewing between them? Sure, they were a bizarre mix, and it wasn’t likely they’d immediately shift into romance mode. Tearing off clothes and panting . . .
And yet, stranger things had happened.
He drew in a breath. Gave himself a mental slap. He couldn’t have her. Faith was more than a one-night gal, and he couldn’t have anyone for longer than that.
Because he was already taken.
“I—” Faith’s gaze darted to the corner and widened. “Ginny, you ready to make cookies?”
Alec hadn’t seen Ginny at the table when they entered, being too engrossed in sparring with Faith. Ginny was watching them with round eyes but looked no worse for wear.
Faith pulled out a cookbook and paged through it as if the conversation never existed. “Read the ingredients and tell me what we need,” she said with utmost patience to Ginny. She leveled her golden eyes on him. “You said you needed help with your writing. What can I do?”
Was he insane for thinking he’d rather find out why the thought of being with him put her in a funk?
He cleared his throat. “You did some kind of juju to help me write last time. I need you to do it again. I haven’t gotten past the first paragraph.”
Slowly, she nodded. Something close to disappointment filled her eyes before she blinked it away. She directed Ginny to the pantry to gather items and set a notebook in front of him. “Write down every move Ginny and I make.”
The idea was as stupid as copying the contents from the brownie box, but he pulled up a stool and grabbed a pen. Outside, the storm had hit their area. Rain splattered the windows and thunder rolled in the distance. He loved the smell of rain.
As if he wasn’t there, Faith patiently directed Ginny through the steps of making chocolate chip cookies. He absorbed her lilting mermaid voice, let it wash over him, until his strained muscles relaxed and his head cleared. The pen scratched the paper as he wrote their procedures, throwing in a random thought here and there to make things more interesting.
By the time they’d put the first batch in the oven, he didn’t know how much time had passed or what he’d even written.
Faith leaned over the island to glance at his notebook. “Looks like you’re doing just fine to me.”
He focused on the paper instead of her sugary scent. There were three pages of scribbles. Scribbles that had nothing to do with Ginny or cookies or the Covington kitchen. Instead, scattered fragments of sentences penned the page.
The air seeped from his lungs. Without thinking, he stood, leaned over the island, cupped Faith’s cheeks, and smacked a big one right on her mouth. He barely registered her wide eyes. Grabbing the notebook, he ran to the door.
“I owe you, Faith!”
He was off the back deck and jogging toward the dunes when her voice drifted to him. “But it’s raining.”
* * *
Ginny was having a difficult time concentrating on her math equations. Faith had tried redirecting her and making it fun, but it was useless. The teenager’s gaze kept wandering around the kitchen. Ginny didn’t have the best attention span, but it was typically better than this.
“What’s wrong, Ginny?”
Ginny shrugged.
Faith took a page out of Mia’s book and said, “Talk to me.”
Ginny let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alec didn’t like my cookies.”
Faith drew in a deep breath and tried to figure out how to explain the thought process of authors when she didn’t have a clue herself. Alec had run out into the rain yesterday after some kind of epiphany.
And he had kissed her.
It was gratitude, nothing more. A spur of the moment, entirely unsexual . . . kiss.
So why couldn’t she quit thinking about it?
Ginny rocked in her chair, a comfort measure Faith had seen before. Poor Ginny thought her cookies tasted bad and took Alec’s sudden exit as a direct hit.
“I think he was in a hurry to get home before it rained and he forgot. Would it make you feel better if we took some over to him?”
“Yeah!”
Faith patted her hand. “Okay, but we have to finish your math when we get back.”
Ginny arranged some cookies on a paper plate and Faith covered it with plastic wrap. They went out the front door so they didn’t drag any sand in with them upon returning and made the trek through the grove.
Nerves fluttered in Faith’s belly at the thought of seeing him again. It was silly. Childish. Their conversation yesterday ran through her head, including his confusion about why she was upset over Mia’s theory of something going on between them.
Faith wasn’t immune to passion. She wasn’t a virgin, either, but she didn’t have the experience that Alec would no doubt be used to in women. Her only true familiarity with actual sex had been with a classmate in college. They’d been in the same study group and he’d asked her out during one late-night session. After a month, she’d just wanted the deed over with, and had let him do his thing. It had hurt. A lot. They’d done it a handful of times after that, but the guy had been unnerved by taking her virginity and broken up with her a few weeks later. At the time, she’d been too relieved to care. Not knowing what to do with her hands or how to turn him on had caused her brain to go into overload and prevented her from enjoying the act. She’d had a few boyfriends since, a few close calls and heavy petting. Nothing long term, and nothing that lit a fire deep within.
Nothing like what Alec Winston was beginning to make her feel. Just thinking about him made her face heat and her stomach clench with want. He was so, so far out of her league. If they were to cross that line as more than acquaintances, he’d be disappointed in her lack of skill, perhaps even pity her. Just like all the others. She’d gone her whole twenty-seven years without a broken heart. No sense in opening herself to one now.
Nothing would happen between them. It was dangerous to think like this. She knew better than to even daydream. Almost from birth she’d known her place in life. She didn’t invoke fire and passion and fantasies. She didn’t even invoke much interest as a friend. Or daughter.
Ginny knocked on Alec’s door and Faith took an uneven breath to calm down, pulling herself from her dreary thoughts.
The door swung wide to show Alec standing before her in a fitted black tee and plaid boxer shorts. His black hair stood up at odd angles, as if he’d fisted his hands in the strands. Redness rimmed his eyes, indicating he hadn’t slept. Confusion marred his brow until he lifted a finger and pointed at Faith. “You!” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her inside. “Take a look at this.”
He dragged her over to the coffee table and pressed on her shoulder until she dropped on the couch. Gesturing to the laptop, he said, “Eighty-five pages. That’s roughly twenty-two thousand words. All thanks to you.”
He’d started writing again. Her heartbeat tripped behind her ribs. Congratulations was on the tip of her tongue, but Ginny made a noise from the doorway and distracted her.
Ginny’s round eyes looked back and forth between them. Finally, her gaze landed on Alec. “Are you mad?”
“No.” His gentle voice contradicted the energy emanating off him. “No, Ginny. I’m not mad at all. I’m just a little excited. I’m—are those cookies?”
Ginny seemed hesitant, but passed him the plate. “You didn’t get any.”
“You are my favorite person.” He made a show of biting into a cookie and moaning. “Best cookies I ever had.”
Ginny beamed and clapped her hands. “Yay. Faith! Faith! He likes them.”
In the span of five seconds, Alec had Faith’s utmost respect and deep appreciation. Tears welled in her eyes. How a person treated the mentally handicapped, animals, and elderly said a lot about their character. Alec not only soothed Ginny, he complimented her and distracted her from why she’d grown upset. Above all, it clearly came naturally to him.
Faith bit her tongue and blinked rapidly so she didn’t embarrass herself. “I told you he’d like them.”
“I don’t like them. I love them.”
Oh boy. Time to go before she melted into a puddle at his feet. “Come on, Ginny. Back to math.”
Ginny pouted and waved good-bye.
Alec’s gaze followed Faith, his mouth twisting mid-chew. “Thanks, Faith. I mean it.”
She nodded because she didn’t think she could talk.
When they made their way back into the Covington house, Cole was leaning against the kitchen counter, reading a stack of papers and eating a cookie. “Don’t tell Mia.” He saluted them with the last bite and shoved it in his mouth.
