Page 25 of Blame it on the Mistletoe
“Not suspicious, cautious,” she said.
“Cautious isn’t a bad thing.”
She rolled her eyes, but it didn’t counteract the way she’d been blushing the entire time he was talking. “How about the crazy lady part? I can’t believe that you’d even want to help me tonight, especially after the way I came at you at the diner.”
“Angel, you can come at me however you want, and I’d still show up on your doorstep with flowers in hand,” he said as if he were the kind of guy to bring flowers. But for her, he might give it a shot. “You were protecting your brother. I can’t fault you for that.”
Noah peeked in the fridge, found what he was looking for. On his way back to the table, he passed by her and whispered, “Besides, you’re cute as all get-out when you’re crazy.”
“Who told you he’s my brother?” Her voice was uncertain.
Noah blinked. “What?”
She gave him a small shove back, which was cute considering he was twice her size and could bench her with one arm tied behind his back. But the hurt-filled expression gutted him.
“Uh, you said, ‘You and your brother,’ when talking about getting a Christmas tree.” He quickly thought back, trying to remember exactly how she’d phrased it. His recall was near-perfect, had to be in order to do his job well. But he was uncharacteristically nervous around her—lucky if he remembered his own name.
“No, I didn’t.” Her face drained of color. “Did you investigate me, Texas Ranger Noah Tucker? Do you have a file in your ‘not-a-patrol car’ listing my family’s criminal history and every mistake I’ve ever made?”
“I did not. And I do not.” And thank Christ for that. He’d been tempted, oh how he’d been tempted, but his instincts had been spot-on when it came to Faith and her privacy. And here Cody had thought himself to be the reigning expert on all things female in Sweet.
She opened her mouth and closed it, looking surprised by his answer. Her arms hugged her middle, a textbook sign of uncertainty. Silently, she studied him for a long, pressure-filled moment. Noah—to his shame—softened the muscles around his eyes and relaxed his body with his palms open by his sides. All tricks he’d learned at the academy to appear trustworthy and put the other person at ease.
But he didn’t want to interrogate Faith. He just wanted her. Unfiltered and real. So it was his turn to be surprised when instead of screaming,“Get out of my house!”she quietly asked, “Then how did you find out?”
His opinion of her clearly mattered, which meant that hiscautiousangel was nervous about what was happening between them. And nervous meant interested—at least on some level. She wanted to trust him but didn’t know how. The way she kept averting her gaze told him she was expecting him to let her down, but for now she was open to the idea that maybe he was a stand-up guy.
He had a little over a week to prove her right before he’d be heading back to Austin, so he had to tread carefully.
“Maybe I figured it out myself. Did you ever think of that?” he asked.
“Impossible. Once people create a narrative that fits their expectations, it’s nearly impossible for them to reframe it.”
Impressive.
It had taken him a few years on the force to learn that incredible accurate tidbit. On some level he’d known it his whole life, since he had to fight against public opinion stemming from his father’s legacy.
It took active military service to rescue his reputation, then relocating to a different city when his tour was up—but it had been worth it. From what little he’d learned about Faith’s past, it was a wonder she hadn’t changed her name and moved to Alaska. He’d been dismayed by the fervor of the women at the market the other day.
That she’d chosen to stay in Sweet and put down roots was a testament to how committed she was when it came to her loved ones. Noah wondered how different he and his brothers’ lives would have been, had Silas approached single parenthood with the same selfless devotion as Faith.
“And in this narrative you’ve constructed about me, I’m the kind of cop to abuse my power and spy on innocent women? Can you imagine my dates if I took that approach? The woman swipes right and walks into the bar knowing that I like cats, line dancing, and mixed martial arts. While I show up knowing her last boyfriend is in jail for a DUI, her mom is suing her dad, and she has some sordid past with a local pot dealer named Seth.”
“When you say it that way . . .” She cringed. “I’m guilty of behaving exactly the way other people behave toward me. I have no good excuse. I’m not used to people being straightforward with me. People usually make their minds up before I even show up, if that makes sense. It’s like living in a book about me, where everyone knows the endingbutme.”
“That would make it hard to build trust with others,” he said, getting a better understanding of how she ticked, and why she ticked the way she did.
Even though he hated talking about himself, had over a decade’s worth of training that went against sharing personal details, Faith was opening up—and he could tell it was a big deal for her to do so. If he wanted to keep this back-and-forth going, he needed to be forthcoming himself.
“A lot of my work is on a ‘need to know’ basis, where I’m the one who ‘needs to know.’ It can be rough to make connections when I can’t talk openly about my day or what’s going on at the place I devote eighty-plus hours a week to. But with everything else, you can trust that I’m a straightforward guy. What you see is what you get. And if you’re not getting what you need, all you have to do is ask.”
“That’s refreshing.”
“Better than annoying,” he teased. “That’s how I found out that Pax is your brother. The old-fashioned way. Asking my brother what he knows about this pretty girl in town who won’t give me the time of day.”
She splayed her hands out. “You’re in my kitchen, aren’t you?”
Huh, it appeared that his“I don’t date”angel was flirting with him. He’d have to be annoying more often.
