Page 29 of Crazy in Love

Contacting her birth father could go on a back burner until she was sure it wouldn’t upset her dad. Plus, she had enough on her plate already.

There were a million things to think about, but it was Nick Walker’s face that floated through her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER TEN

Nick sat at the Rise and Grind, sipping his coffee and reading his book. Or trying to. Images of Faith doing yoga in the park kept creeping into his mind. Long legs, slender waist, nice round…He shook his head to derail his thoughts from heading somewhere they shouldn’t.

Her daddy issues had been a welcome distraction from his problems. Earlier in the day, Tess had taken him to the doctor, where the quack had casually informed Nick he’d never run again.

No way he was accepting that prognosis. He’d already called around and found another doctor in another town to get a second opinion. He had an appointment for the following Tuesday.

If none of these Podunk docs could give him an answer he liked, he’d go back to Boston for a third or fourth opinion. Never running again was not an option. Because that would mean Nick’s career was over. And since his job was his life…

Meanwhile, his first physical therapy appointment was in a few hours. Hopefully, that would ramp up the healing process and get him off the cane train.

He’d just refocused on the story and come to the book’s climax when the coffee shop doors burst open, and Faith rushed in.

She didn’t notice him, and he watched as she smoothed her hair and applied fresh lip gloss. Not that she needed makeup. She had a natural beauty most women would probably kill for. Peaches and cream skin, long eyelashes—perfect for batting, aninfectious smile, and sleek silky hair a man could lose his hands in. He squeezed his eyes shut. Man, she had a weird effect on him. Could she be a witch? And she’d cast some sort of spell on him?

It wasn’t that hecouldn’tthink of her that way. She was no longer his little sister’s sixteen-year-old friend. It was that heshouldn’t. He was only here for a while, and getting involved with a woman, even temporarily, in such a small town was a bad idea.

She caught him staring and came over to where he sat. “Hey, Nick. How’s it going?”

“All right, I guess,” he said. Things sucked, but he didn’t want to get into it.

“Your face says different.” She glanced at the door between every other word.

“You waiting for someone?”

“Oh. Yeah. Blind date.” Just as she said it, a man walked in.

Nick was trained to identify and size up people in an instant. He needed only a fraction of that to know this was not the guy for Faith. He was short—five-five at most—and looked to be in his mid-forties. A spare thirty pounds hung over his cargo shorts. And he wore red socks with Birkenstock knockoffs.

“Oh my.” Faith slid seamlessly into the seat across from Nick and pulled her hair around her face. “Please tell me that’s not him.” She’d put her back to the door, and as she snuck a glance over her shoulder, the man took off his hat, revealing a balding head.

Faith whimpered.

“Faith?” the man called out to no one in particular. There were only three women in the coffee shop, so his choices were limited.When no one answered, he went to the front counter and asked Hope if she knew where he could find Faith Sullivan.

Faith jumped up and made a slicing motion over her neck. The man’s back was to Faith, so he couldn’t see her, but Hope could. A wicked smile spread across her lips.

“Faith Sullivan you say?” Hope dragged out.

Faith was pretending to turn a steering wheel and honk a horn, obviously telling Hope she’d take her driving in exchange for silence.

Hope tapped her head to stall, then very subtly rubbed her fingers together in the universal sign of “money.” Faith scrambled into the biggest purse Nick had ever seen, dug out her wallet, and opened it while nodding frantically.

“So sorry,” Hope said. “Don’t know anyone by that name.”

Faith plopped back down quickly and hid her face again as the man turned around. One by one, he approached the other women, presumably to ask if they were Faith. Nick watched as one woman shrugged and pointed to the table where they sat.

“Someone just gave you up,” he muttered. “Incoming.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Faith practically yelled. “You shouldn’t have.” She leaned over and, with no warning whatsoever, kissed him. Right on the mouth. His heart stopped for a minute, and the only thing he could think was,this can’t be good for my chest wound. He’d barely had time to kiss her back—it took him a second to register that hehadkissed her back—before she pulled away. He was sure he had the dumbfound-est look of all time on his face.

Nick and the man had both gone stock-still. The stranger found his voice first. “Faith Sullivan?”

Faith smiled brightly. “Oh, no. I’m FaithMulligan,” she lied smoothly.

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