She stared down at their joined hands, where he rubbed small circles over the soft skin of her inner wrist. “My parents took her death very hard.”

Were there no friends? Other family? Certainly she had other people in her life. Then again, no one had dropped by since she’d moved, nor had she left to visit anyone.

“I’m not terribly close with my parents. Around the time Hope died, I went to college nearby, but didn’t live in the dorms. After I graduated, I stayed at home, thinking they needed me.”

He felt a but in there somewhere. What kind of parents didn’t want their kid around? Especially after losing another so young. No way was Faith a problem child or a black sheep. If anything, she was the over-accommodating type. “Tell me about your sister. What was she like?”

The smile that split her face was genuine and hit him right in the center of his chest.

Removing her hand from his, she rested her chin in her palm and stared over his shoulder. “Everyone loved Hope. She was the life of any get-together. She was always smiling, making friends. It was hard not to love her. Even when she was sick, she’d find the strength to ask me about school or what happened in my day.” She sighed. “I miss that most. Someone asking how my day went.”

A hollow pang smacked his ribs and he stilled. Did she have no one? At all? He thought back to their scattered conversations and came up blank. No mention of anyone. Her sometimes socially awkward behavior and the shock whenever someone included her was starting to make sense. Faith wasn’t particularly shy or reserved or traditional. She wasn’t uncomfortable with attention. She’d just never had any. She sought acceptance.

Dear Christ. What the hell was he supposed to do with her? With this knowledge?

“How was your day?” he rasped.

Slowly, her gaze slid over to his, and damn if the sentiment in her eyes didn’t undo him. “It was pretty great, actually. Thank you.”

He nodded. Swallowed hard.

They sat in silence until the waiter brought their food. She ordered grilled salmon and steamed vegetables over brown rice. He looked down at his crab cakes and asparagus spears drowning in sauce.

She took a bite of her fish. “What about you? You don’t seem close with your parents, based on what you said the other day.”

“I’m very close with my mother and Jake. Dad’s just . . .” He fumbled for the right word. “Weird, I guess. I get the feeling he’s disappointed in me. Regardless, I love them to death.”

The fork paused halfway to her mouth. “After all your success? I find it hard to believe he’s disappointed.”

He shrugged. “I made a lot of bad choices along the way. He built his landscaping business from nothing. Blue collar through and through. I don’t think he knew what to do with me, being the creative type.”

She pushed the food around her plate, avoiding eye contact. Once again, he was floored by her lack of inquisition. She didn’t ask, though he could tell she wanted to. For the first time in . . . well, ever, he wanted to talk. To have someone know what his life entailed and share his mistakes. Someone like Faith would understand, not judge.

“I can hear your unasked questions from over here.”

Her eyes smiled even though her mouth didn’t. “I wasn’t going to ask you anything. I was just thinking that you’re human. People make bad decisions all the time.”

Maybe she did get it, more than he would’ve guessed. “Why aren’t you asking me what mistakes I made?”

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip. She took a sip of wine before answering, choosing her words carefully. “A few days ago, you said you couldn’t do commitment. I’m assuming that hasn’t changed.” Her eyes lifted to his. “I figure you’ll tell me when and if you’re ready.”

“That’s it?”

She nodded, closed her eyes, then shook her head. “What are we doing here, Alec?”

“Eating. Some of us more than others.” He nodded to her plate, of which she had yet to take more than a few bites.

“Kissing me was a mistake. Your words, not mine.”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and crowding her. “I make my living by words, Faith. I repeat, it wasn’t a mistake. I said kissing you made me feel like shit. Because of those choices mentioned earlier. But for the life of me, I can’t seem to stay away from you. Regardless of how bad an idea this is, and regardless of why I know I can’t.”

She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. I don’t want you to read too much into it or ask any questions.”

Her pleading gaze pinned him to his seat. Right then, he would’ve done whatever she asked. “I promise.”

“I’ve spent the majority of my life feeling unwanted. I made a promise to myself when I moved here that I would start over. If you can’t or won’t be honest with what you want, you should leave me alone. I’m out of my element as it is, Alec.”

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? The air in his lungs thinned as he stared at her, making breathing difficult. A thousand questions and arguments rolled through his head, but a promise was a promise. The blatant urge to protect her, to slay her dragons and lay claim, rose again. What kind of fucking monster had made her think she wasn’t wanted?

He should leave her alone, like she asked.

“Considering I’m a writer, you leave me strangely bereft of words.”

The waiter came and cleared their plates. They refused dessert. Alec paid the tab and offered her a walk down the tourist strip, more for his sake than hers—he needed to clear his head. She nodded her approval. They’d been walking for twenty minutes past the independent storefronts when she finally addressed him.

“Do you find me attractive?”

He stopped and turned to face her. This had to be a trick question. Some female ploy they all knew to confound men. “Yes.”

Even though it was dark, he could see the pink tingeing her cheeks. “And it’s not just because I’m helping you through your writer’s block?”

That was asinine. For her benefit, he thought it through. “No.”

She continued the walk as if she’d never spoken. He let her go a few steps before his brain caught up.

“Hold up.” Gently, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her flush against an ice-cream parlor to get out of the way of tourists. “What game are you playing?” Christ, she smelled better than the shop behind them.

“I don’t play games. I needed to know if your attraction had anything to do with me or if it was based on gratitude.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “They just don’t make them like you.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He opened his eyes and forced his gaze off her mouth and on her eyes. “Why did you need to know?”

She drew a breath, and the action caused her breasts to brush his chest. “I’ve never been in a serious relationship. I don’t know if I’m even capable. You’re guarded and hesitant to enter one. Let’s just see where this thing goes. No pressure. No guilt.”

Just when he thought she couldn’t throw him any more surprises, she blindsided him with a left hook. “You don’t seem the type for flings or one-night stands, Faith.” And really, that’s all he could offer.

“What about a summer romance? You’re going back to New York. I’m staying here. The relationship has an end date. You get your out clause and I get my adventure.”

“Adventure.” Is that what she wanted? Could it be as easy as that? It didn’t feel right. Deep in his gut, he knew Faith didn’t take relationships of any kind lightly.

Still, he wanted her.

“Fine,” he said with a nod. “Come on. I should get you home.”

Before his car turned back into a pumpkin.

chapter