Sweet Surrender
Page 8

He flipped it open and put it to his ear. “Montgomery here.”
“Hi, Gray. It’s Faith.”
Her soft voice whispered through his veins, and his shoulders relaxed as the tension uncoiled and loosened.
“Hey,” he said, irritated at the catch in his voice.
“I just wanted to check in and see how you were feeling.”
Gray felt a twinge of guilt. He was supposed to be at home sick, and instead, he was working out in a gym in plain sight. Not entirely smart.
He shielded the mouthpiece of the phone as he stepped out of the club and into the parking lot. He hurried over to his truck and got in so Faith wouldn’t hear the noise of the city around him.
“I’m good, thanks to your cooking,” he said.
She laughed softly, the sound sending a little spasm of pleasure through his chest. “I thought I’d stop by a little later and bring you some supper.”
He paused and shook his head at the giddy rush he got over the idea of seeing her again. He was acting like a lovesick fool.
“Unless you’re resting,” she added in a rush. “I don’t want to disturb you.”
“No, not at all,” he hurried to say. “I’ve been up and around all afternoon.”
“Okay then, I’ll come by around five thirty if you’re sure I won’t be a bother.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Gray said truthfully.
He hung up the phone and checked his watch. Plenty of time to get back to the apartment before Faith and the others got home from work.
It was becoming a habit of hers, standing on Gray’s doorstep, nervous about going in. Which was ridiculous when she thought about it. He was just a man. Okay, well maybe not just anything. But still, she could do without the quivery knees every time she came into contact with him.
She knocked and waited, determined to be confident and composed. When he opened the door, she donned her brightest smile and held out the casserole dish to him.
“Sausage and potato casserole. Guaranteed to cure what ails you. It’s great comfort food.”
He smiled and took the still-warm container from her. “Come in, please.”
Their fingers brushed as she relinquished the casserole to him, and she acknowledged the latent pull between them. It was there even when it wasn’t. If that made any sense.
He set the dish down on his bar and walked around to the fridge. “I just made some fresh tea. You want some?”
She nodded and took a seat on a nearby barstool, watching as he collected ice in glasses. He poured the tea, and the ice crackled and popped, clinking against the glass as it moved around.
When he set her glass in front of her, she took a long sip, savoring the sweet flavor on her tongue.
“Any good?” he asked, nodding his head at her glass.
“Mmmm delicious,” she said as she ran her tongue over her lips to collect the droplets.
He grinned. “It’s my grandma’s recipe. Sun tea. When I was a kid, she’d brew a whole gallon on a post in her garden. She’d let it sit out the entire day in the sun. Always swore there wasn’t anything better.”
“I think I agree,” Faith said as she savored another long swallow.
After draining the glass, she set it back down on the bar and let her gaze wander lazily over Gray. “You look like you feel much better,” she observed.
“Yes, much. Thanks to your TLC.”
She blushed and ducked her head, and he chuckled as if he knew it was how she’d respond.
“Will you be back at work tomorrow?” she asked as she peeked back up at him from underneath her lashes.
“Count on it,” he said.
She put her hand down on the bar and pushed herself up off the stool. “Then I’ll see you in the morning.”
He looked vaguely chagrined, as if he had no desire for her to go. His next words confirmed it. “Do you have to go so soon?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I promised Pop I’d be over to eat with him and Connor. It’s lasagna night.”
He circled around the bar and stopped mere inches from her. He was so close his body heat enveloped her. His scent flitted across her nostrils. Clean. He smelled of soap and a fresh shower.
“One of these days, you’re going to quit running every time we get close,” he murmured. “You’re harder to catch and hold onto than a greased pig.”
“Pig?” Her mouth fell open. “Did you just compare me to a pig?”
He laughed, his eyes twinkling as he raked a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Hell, that didn’t come out well. My point is that one of these days, I want you to actually stick around for more than two minutes. You have a habit of hightailing it every time we get together. I might start taking it personally if it doesn’t stop.”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and a tendril of pleasure wrapped around her chest and snaked up her spine.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured.
He seemed to be closer than he was a few minutes ago. She nervously wet her lips and knew that if she didn’t leave, he was going to kiss her. Did she want him to?
Part of her did. Very much. But another part of her loved the anticipation. The subtle cat and mouse game they played. The attraction between them was building, and she knew it was only a matter of time before things erupted between them.
He hovered even closer. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, but instead of kissing her lips, he cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pressed his mouth to her forehead.
Her eyes flew open as he pulled away. She almost grinned. So…he was giving her a dose of her own medicine, was he? She reached up on tiptoe and brushed her lips briefly across his, certainly not hard enough to constitute a full-blown kiss.
Then she smiled as his eyes sparked and his pupils dilated. She settled back on her heels and sashayed toward the door. When she reached it, she turned around and stared at him.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
CHAPTER 9
Faith shoved the coffeepot under the spout just as the first drops of hot liquid seeped through the filter.
Once a week, Pop held a morning meeting to discuss jobs and divide up duties. Mondays would have been logical, but then Pop tended to be rather illogical about the little things. Meetings such as this were called at random and usually precipitated by a 5:30 A.M. phone call from Pop asking everyone to come into the office before seven.
Faith always rushed in ahead of the guys so she could pick up donuts on her way in and make a fresh pot of coffee.
Not surprisingly, Gray was the first to arrive. He glanced appreciatively at the donut box when he walked into her office and took a seat on the other side of her desk.
“Mornin’,” she said cheerfully. “Feeling any better today?”
He grunted in return but reached eagerly for a donut when she shoved the box across the desk at him.
“There’s fresh coffee made,” she said.
“You’re a goddess,” he said as he rose and made for the pot.
He tugged one of the mugs from the neat row she’d arranged them in and poured a steaming cup of the potent brew.
“Want some?” he asked after he’d taken a sip.
She shook her heard. “I don’t drink it.”
He sauntered back over and slouched in the chair. “Not drink it? I’m pretty sure that’s listed as a cardinal sin somewhere in the Bible.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Never could stand the stuff. Once I drove all night from Louisiana to Kansas. Kept drinking coffee to stay awake. By the time I got to where I was going, I puked my guts up. Just the smell of it now makes me queasy.”
“Yet you still make it for us,” he observed.
“I’m a regular saint,” she said with a saucy wink.
His gaze drifted lazily up and down her, and her cheeks warmed under his scrutiny. She positively loved the way he looked at her, like he wanted to undress her, touch her, explore every inch of her.
“I’d give an entire paycheck to know what you’re thinking right now,” he drawled.
She blinked out of her reverie to see him watching her, his blue eyes flickering with undisguised interest. She managed to control her blush—barely.
“A woman has to keep a few secrets,” she said.
He chuckled and took another gulp of his coffee.
Faith’s gaze averted to the door as Micah strolled in, followed closely by Connor.
Micah did a quick survey of the room. “Nathan not make it in yet?”
“Obviously not,” she said dryly.
Micah grinned. She recognized that gleeful gleam for what it was.
“I don’t even want to know what you two have been up to now,” she said with an exasperated sigh.
“Mornin’,” Connor said as he leaned against her desk, coffee mug in hand.
“Morning,” she intoned sweetly.
Connor took a long swallow of his coffee then closed his eyes and sighed. “I swear you make the best coffee, Faith.”
“That ain’t no lie,” Micah said. His back was to them as he poured himself a cup.
“It is damn good,” Gray agreed. “What kind is it? I’d like to get some for the apartment.”
Connor grinned, and Micah let out a hoot of laughter. Gray looked at them both in confusion.
“We’ve asked her to tell us for the last two years,” Connor explained. “She won’t. All we know is that she orders the shit from somewhere.”
Faith chuckled. “If I told you guys, you’d all buy your own coffee, and then you’d never come to my office to get any, which means I’d never see you.”
Micah snorted as he walked over to join the others. “Not see us? Hell, you run this place. Most of the time it’s you telling us when to jump and how high.”
She glared over at him. “You were supposed to say that you couldn’t possibly go a day without seeing me.”
Connor reached over to tousle her hair. “Well, that goes without saying, kiddo.”
A tiny spark of irritation ricocheted up her spine. It wasn’t the first time Connor had ever called her kiddo, but now, in front of Gray, she didn’t want to draw attention to the disparity in their ages. Not that it was huge or anything, but the last thing she wanted him to see her as was a kid. Or even worse, a kid sister.
She glared her annoyance at Connor.
A shuffle at the door directed their attention in that direction, and Faith’s eyebrows lifted as she watched Nathan walk in wearing an Astros baseball cap. Not that the cap was an oddity, he was a big fan after all, but there was no hair sticking out from under it. None!
She let out a gasp at the same time Micah snickered and Connor muttered, “What the hell?” She stood and hurried around her desk, not stopping until she stood directly in front of Nathan. She reached up on tiptoe and yanked the cap off.
She stood there stunned and let the hat fall from her fingertips. It landed with a soft thunk on the floor about the time her mouth did the same.
“What the hell have you done?” she demanded.
Nathan sighed then ran his hand over his head, his very bald head. Micah escalated from snickering to outright howls of laughter. He was soon joined by Connor and finally Gray.
Nathan bent down to retrieve his hat and slapped it back on his head. “Well, hell, Faith, you said I needed a haircut.”
Micah started howling all over again.
“I didn’t mean for you to shave it all off,” she squeaked.
Connor walked up behind Faith and slid a hand over her shoulder. “He’s dicking with you, Faith.”
“Yeah, tell her why you really shaved your head,” Micah said gleefully.
Faith yanked Nathan’s cap off again and took a step back to study him. Now that the initial shock had worn off, she had to admit he didn’t look bad at all. His goatee was freshly trimmed and neatly groomed. Without all the shaggy hair flopping over his ears, he looked damned sexy.
“Shut the hell up, Micah,” Nathan muttered.
Faith whirled around and eyed Micah. “If you know so much, then spill it.”
Micah grinned like a loon. “Oh no. I wouldn’t miss hearing this from Nathan himself for anything.”
She turned back to Nathan, who wore a resigned expression. Gray still sat slouched in his chair, an amused grin on his face.
“Yes, do tell,” Connor said.
“I lost a bet,” Nathan said tightly.
Faith’s mouth sagged opened. “A bet?” Then she rounded on Micah, her finger up and wagging. “Why on earth would you make him shave his head because of a lost bet?”
Micah’s eyes widened innocently. “What makes you think I had anything to do with it?”
She put her hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes. “Oh please. You can’t tell me this isn’t payback for the time he made you go out with the governor’s daughter.”
Connor and Nathan both dissolved into laughter. Connor had to put his cup down on Faith’s desk as he wheezed and his eyes watered. Micah scowled, and Gray’s eyebrows went up in question.