He smiled as he took the bag. Then he stepped back. “Come in, please.”
She hesitated for a minute then followed him inside.
“This was sweet of you. You shouldn’t have come all the way over here. I’m feeling much better now.”
He set the bag down on the bar separating the small kitchen from the living room then looked back at her again. “Just let me grab a shirt, and I’ll be right back.”
She fidgeted as he walked down the hallway to his bedroom, and when he disappeared she let out a long breath. She turned her attention to the bag on the bar and removed the plastic container holding the chicken and dumplings.
Not wanting to stand there like an idiot, she walked around the bar into the kitchen and set about looking for a bowl. When she found one, she hastily transferred the contents of the plastic container to it and thrust it into the microwave.
She set it for two minutes then rummaged around for a spoon. Just as the timer went off on the microwave, Gray sauntered back in, this time wearing a T-shirt. It was all she could do not to sigh in disappointment.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he protested as she gestured for him to sit down.
“Sit,” she directed. “It’s all done anyway.”
She removed the bowl and stirred the dumplings before plopping the bowl in front of him. “Do you want something to drink?”
He put his hand on her arm. “Faith, sit down. You don’t have to wait on me.”
“I should probably be going,” she hedged.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked as he stared intently at her.
“W-why would you ask that?”
“Because you’re making a habit out of running away from me,” he said.
She sank onto the barstool across from him like a deflated balloon. “Oh, no, I mean, well, yes, you make me nervous.”
Her hand came up to her mouth in mortification. Had she just said that?
He chuckled. “At least you’re honest.”
“I’ve made a pact with myself to start being more direct,” she explained. God, Faith, shut up!
His eyes twinkled, and he grinned. “Then maybe you’ll tell me why I make you nervous.”
“Not that direct,” she muttered.
He laughed and picked up his spoon. “Mmm, this is really good. Not only are you beautiful—and adorable—but you’re an excellent cook as well. I’m dying to know why you’re still single.”
She glared at the mischief in his eyes. He was totally yanking her chain.
“Maybe I haven’t found a man worthy of my beauty or culinary skills,” she said airily.
He raised his spoon in salute. “Touché.”
“I really should be going. My lunch hour is almost over, and I have a lot of paperwork to do this afternoon.”
“Have you eaten anything?” he asked.
“I’ll get something when I get back to the office. I just wanted to see how you were feeling.”
His gaze caressed her face, his expression intense. “I appreciate it.”
She stood awkwardly, smoothing down nonexistent wrinkles in her jeans. She reached into her pocket for her keys and headed around the bar. As she passed him, he reached for her wrist.
A surge of warmth raced up her arm as his fingers pressed into her skin.
“Thank you,” he said huskily.
For a minute, she thought he’d kiss her, just as she’d thought he would last night. But again, she was disappointed as he let his fingers slide off her wrist.
“I’ll see you later,” she said as she started for the door once more.
CHAPTER 7
Faith got out of her car and headed back into the office building. When she rounded the corner into her office, she was surprised to see Connor and Pop sitting in chairs eating pizza.
“Hey,” she said in delight. “I thought you guys were eating out today.”
“Well, we came by to eat with you,” Connor said. “But you weren’t exactly here.”
Her cheeks prickled, and she fought to maintain a neutral expression. “I took some chicken and dumplings over to Gray. I wanted to see if he was feeling any better.”
“That was nice,” Pop said with an approving nod. “How was he?”
Faith walked over to the open pizza box and took out a slice. She picked up a napkin and took her chair behind the desk. “He seemed to be feeling better. I think he must have been in bed when I knocked because he looked like he’d been asleep.”
“Have things been okay with you, Faith?” Connor asked bluntly.
She blinked in surprise, the pizza stopping its rise halfway to her mouth. She set the slice back down and looked over at her brother.
“Things are fine. Why on earth do you ask?”
“Pop and I have been worried,” Connor said. “You just seem distant lately.”
A momentary rush of panic swelled in her throat. Had her mom called when she wasn’t in the office? Did they already know that Celia was in dire straits again?
She hated these situations. She never wanted Pop or Connor to regret inviting her into their lives. No way would she burden them with issues involving her deadbeat mother. They’d done more than their fair share of dealing with Celia.
“Faith?” Pop’s gravelly voice interrupted her dire thoughts. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. You two worry too much.” She smiled reassuringly at them both.
Connor grunted. “Worrying is what we do best.”
Faith concentrated on her piece of pizza, chewing and swallowing mechanically. What would she do if her mom called when Faith was out of the office? What if Pop or Connor answered? Would her mom hang up or lay out her sob story regardless of who was on the other end?
Embarrassment, hot and raw, crawled up her spine and wrapped around her neck like a vise grip. Why now? Why after all this time did her mother have to worm her way—or try to worm her way—back into Faith’s life? Because if Faith had her way, Celia would stay the hell away.
“What do you think of Gray?” Pop spoke up.
Faith looked up in surprise. “Huh?”
“Seems like a good fellow,” Pop continued. “Too bad about his partner. I bet Gray made a damn fine cop.”
“Is he quitting?” Faith asked curiously. Had Gray decided to take a permanent position with Pop?
Pop shook his head. “No, not that I know of. Far as I know, he’s just taking a break.”
“Ah, you made it sound like he wasn’t going back or something.”