something he hadn’t even realized he wanted until Faith’s soft brown eyes hardened around the edges?
Chapter Five
By Thursday afternoon, Faith had almost cancelled her date with Mick ten times.
But every time she started to text him, she hesitated. And then hesitation turned to indecision and sooner or later she ended up calling herself a wimp for even thinking about chickening out and shoved the entire Mick situation from her mind.
He was just a guy, and Faith didn’t get stressed out about guys, especially guys who weren’t boyfriend material. It didn’t matter that Mick’s touch made her insides melt; she’d laid down ground rules and she and Mick were both going to abide by them. They would hang out, have fun until something or someone better came along, and part ways without either of them having to step foot out of their comfort zone.
It was going to be fine. Just fine.
Still, by the time six o’clock Thursday night rolled around, Faith was pacing the floor in front of her apartment door, wondering what the hell she was getting herself into.
“It’s not a big deal,” she muttered to her cat, Captain Snugglepants. “I mean, I’m all about self control. Just because a guy gets under my skin doesn’t mean I’m turning into Mom. And even if I were, I would check myself into rehab before I’d hand my life over to some loser. I have nothing to worry about. At all.”
Captain Snugglepants watched her pace from his perch atop the couch, a judgmental look in his green eyes that seemed to accuse her of protesting too much.
“Whatever.” Faith wrinkled her nose in the cat’s direction. It wasn’t a big deal. She would go out with Mick, enjoy herself, and then head for home. Alone. The way she liked it.
She wasn’t lying when she’d told Mick things were moving too fast. She should be grateful he wanted a casual relationship and was willing to be honest with her about it. Most guys would have tried to get in her pants first and let her know they didn’t want to get emotionally involved after they’d rounded as many bases as she was willing to allow.
With most of the guys she’d dated, that wouldn’t have been many. Faith had never had any trouble calling a stop to things in the bedroom. She’d assumed she simply had more self-control than most women, but ever since Mick’s lips had touched hers in the gazebo at the Fireman’s Ball, she had begun to suspect she simply hadn’t met the right guy.
The kind of guy who made her body hunger for his touch, who made her dream of his hands sliding over her skin and his mouth trailing hot kisses down her neck while his—
The dong of the doorbell made Faith jump, jarring her from her heated thoughts and sending Captain Snugglepants leaping from the back of the couch in a flurry of white fur.
“It’s going to be fine, fine, fine,” Faith chanted softly.
She took a deep breath, blew it out, and reached for the doorknob, determined not to let Mick see how off-kilter she felt.
“Hey.” He grinned as she opened the door.
“Hey,” she said, taking in his black jeans and blue sweater with what she hoped was a neutral expression.
He looked amazing—good enough to go back for seconds and dip the crust in gravy—but he probably already knew that. Knew that sweater made his blue eyes pop like the first stars sparkling in the night sky, and that the black curls falling messily over his forehead only made him more impossibly handsome.
“Wow.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You look…”
“Ready for target practice?” Faith propped a hand on her hip, glad she’d decided not to get dressed up. Jeans, her black shit-kicker boots, and a long-sleeved black thermal were plenty fancy for a low-key dinner and some quality time with a gun. And her outfit would make it clear she intended to keep things casual.
“I was going to say sexy as hell,” Mick said with a nervous-sounding laugh. “But then I thought that might be
Chapter Five
By Thursday afternoon, Faith had almost cancelled her date with Mick ten times.
But every time she started to text him, she hesitated. And then hesitation turned to indecision and sooner or later she ended up calling herself a wimp for even thinking about chickening out and shoved the entire Mick situation from her mind.
He was just a guy, and Faith didn’t get stressed out about guys, especially guys who weren’t boyfriend material. It didn’t matter that Mick’s touch made her insides melt; she’d laid down ground rules and she and Mick were both going to abide by them. They would hang out, have fun until something or someone better came along, and part ways without either of them having to step foot out of their comfort zone.
It was going to be fine. Just fine.
Still, by the time six o’clock Thursday night rolled around, Faith was pacing the floor in front of her apartment door, wondering what the hell she was getting herself into.
“It’s not a big deal,” she muttered to her cat, Captain Snugglepants. “I mean, I’m all about self control. Just because a guy gets under my skin doesn’t mean I’m turning into Mom. And even if I were, I would check myself into rehab before I’d hand my life over to some loser. I have nothing to worry about. At all.”
Captain Snugglepants watched her pace from his perch atop the couch, a judgmental look in his green eyes that seemed to accuse her of protesting too much.
“Whatever.” Faith wrinkled her nose in the cat’s direction. It wasn’t a big deal. She would go out with Mick, enjoy herself, and then head for home. Alone. The way she liked it.
She wasn’t lying when she’d told Mick things were moving too fast. She should be grateful he wanted a casual relationship and was willing to be honest with her about it. Most guys would have tried to get in her pants first and let her know they didn’t want to get emotionally involved after they’d rounded as many bases as she was willing to allow.
With most of the guys she’d dated, that wouldn’t have been many. Faith had never had any trouble calling a stop to things in the bedroom. She’d assumed she simply had more self-control than most women, but ever since Mick’s lips had touched hers in the gazebo at the Fireman’s Ball, she had begun to suspect she simply hadn’t met the right guy.
The kind of guy who made her body hunger for his touch, who made her dream of his hands sliding over her skin and his mouth trailing hot kisses down her neck while his—
The dong of the doorbell made Faith jump, jarring her from her heated thoughts and sending Captain Snugglepants leaping from the back of the couch in a flurry of white fur.
“It’s going to be fine, fine, fine,” Faith chanted softly.
She took a deep breath, blew it out, and reached for the doorknob, determined not to let Mick see how off-kilter she felt.
“Hey.” He grinned as she opened the door.
“Hey,” she said, taking in his black jeans and blue sweater with what she hoped was a neutral expression.
He looked amazing—good enough to go back for seconds and dip the crust in gravy—but he probably already knew that. Knew that sweater made his blue eyes pop like the first stars sparkling in the night sky, and that the black curls falling messily over his forehead only made him more impossibly handsome.
“Wow.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You look…”
“Ready for target practice?” Faith propped a hand on her hip, glad she’d decided not to get dressed up. Jeans, her black shit-kicker boots, and a long-sleeved black thermal were plenty fancy for a low-key dinner and some quality time with a gun. And her outfit would make it clear she intended to keep things casual.
“I was going to say sexy as hell,” Mick said with a nervous-sounding laugh. “But then I thought that might be
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