Faith had fallen outside that circle. Crashed out of it, really.
Was the amazing man she once knew still inside? Faith’s heart ached to see that side of him again.
Just for a moment. Just a glint in his eyes to show her she’d not destroyed his sweet center.
Curious to see if her mascara had held up, she pulled the visor down to peek at the mirror.
Several photographs fell onto her head and cascaded down into her lap. Her heart pounded against her ribs as her shaking hands scooped them up fearing she’d see Greg happy with another girl.
She swallowed, checking them out, one by one. Greg looked happy in these all right. But she was the girl. They were the same photographs he’d kept tucked in that visor before she left. Running off had trapped Greg Mallory in time.
From her passenger mirror, she caught him heading back toward the truck. She collected all the photos and put them back in the visor, never having checked her appearance.
When Greg got in and closed the door, the familiar smell of his musky cologne surrounded her, closing her in. It slammed her with memories of this man holding her, kissing her, being on top of her, giving her the most intense orgasms.
He twisted around to back out of the spot. From over his shoulder, his gaze settled on her with questioning eyes. She considered being cute and telling Greg where she lived. Except it was the house she’d grown up in. The house they’d had sex in the first time. The same house he’d been watching these past months. Without saying a word, she let him find his own way there.
His shoulders tensed up as he drove through the spidery maze of streets in the rural part of Darling Cove. He’d made these turns so often that each one had to have held a buried memory for Greg.
The darkness behind the curtains of her house meant her parents might have gone to sleep. Or they were watching television in bed, her frail father lying next to her mom. Greg’s earlier comment about her dad had hit a nerve. He’d stopped driving last year, not because of his age, because he’d been suffering severe memory loss, including not recognizing her these past several months.
Greg stopped and wrenched the gear shift into park.
A lump settled in Faith’s throat. A benign drop-off would include a stop, a ‘thanks’, and a bolt out of the seat. Greg’s jaw seemed tight, and instead of looking at her, he stared at the house. Spying on her from down the street, apparently didn’t have the same memory-provoking reaction as staring at it head-on from the driveway.
“Thank you,” she said undoing her seatbelt.
He turned sharply toward her. “No problem.”
Gah! He was so handsome. Greg had propelled her to do the most ridiculous things in her youth just so he’d notice her.
“Good night,” Faith whispered even though she didn’t want to get out of his truck.
Greg looked down at her lap and the camera in its case. He exhaled and said, “Do you want a ride tomorrow morning to get your car towed?”
Yes, slammed into her brain. But she closed her eyes and said, “You don’t have to help me like this.”
“I’m a cop. It’s my job to help people.”
“You’re not on duty now.” She opened her eyes took him in again.
“I’m always on duty, Faith.” His words were only half true, though.
Greg patrolled in the town where he lived. He had to be someone else on the streets of Darling Cove. Not a happy chuckling fool. After being wound so tight for eight hours, Greg had greeted her with the most passionate kisses, holding her for a few minutes each night while the harsh marble setting needed to do his job melted away and he turned into something more human.
Her eyes drifted to the garment bag hanging against the window behind him, his police uniform presumably inside since he was still wearing that amazing suit.
“Okay,” she said catching his eyes again, looking for the slightest hint of what he was thinking.
He stared back. “Eight?”
“Eh, that’s kind of early for a Sunday.”
Greg smiled for the first time. His strong lips stretched showing off straight white teeth.
All the years she’d spent running her tongue along those lips...
“Ten?” he proposed instead.
“Better.” She nodded and opened her door. “Thank you, Gregory.”
Using his full name changed his demeanor, since only people like his dad called him that. In the past, Faith had only used it in the throes of deep passion. Now, it just...slipped.
“You’re welcome, Faith.”
“See you tomorrow.” She got out and hurried to her front door, grateful it was still unlocked, so she didn’t have to fumble with keys— it is Darling Cove.
Taking one last look at the driveway, she noticed Greg kept his eyes on her. After a wave, she stepped inside.
Leaning against the closed door, Faith felt unable to move for a few moments while she collected her thoughts. Her entire body screamed with all kinds of needs. After all these years, it came roaring back at her. So fast. So fierce.
This was bad. Very bad. She wanted to confess, apologize, and move on. Go to London and that would be it. No way, was there any hope of a...she swallowed...of a reconciliation.
She touched her face...hot. Her body raged with heat under the wool coat. She pulled it off and gasped at what she saw in the mirror by the door. Face flushed, and her nipples were hard and erect bursting through her dress. Yes, this was bad. Very, very bad.
She ran up the stairs to jump into a cold shower, hoping the sting would get all these heated thoughts of Greg Mallory out of her head.
GREG ARRIVED AT FAITH’S house a few minutes before ten a.m. the next morning.
Holding a walker with shaky hands, her father wobbled out of the front door with her mother trailing behind. Greg picked up his pace and waved his hands as Ronald Copeland attempted to walk down the wooden steps. Even with his wife’s help, they were going to get a visit from the Darling Cove ambulance company.
He couldn’t imagine if the break-up had been the other way around. If he’d left Faith two days before their wedding. She’d shown a shit load of courage facing his family the night before. Despite being the injured party, Greg wasn’t sure what kind of reception he’d get from Faith’s parents.
Here goes.
“Hey, Mr. Copeland, let me help you there.” He reached for the man’s hand.
For years he’d been Captain Copeland, then Ron. Those days were long gone though. The same went for Faith’s mom.
“Who are you?” The former police captain’s quiver of anxiety struck an unexpected nerve.
What the heck?
Faith’s mother caught her breath looking at him. Smiling softly, she patted her husband’s shoulder lovingly. “It’s Gregory, Ronald.”
Thanks to plenty of practice helping other elderly Darling Cove residents up and down steps, Greg knew just where to put his hands. Mr. Copeland responded immediately and leaned against him.
Mrs. Copeland took the walker and had it ready when Ronald reached the bottom.
“Thank you, son. Rose, who is this?” Mr. Copeland asked.
Greg’s eyes skidded to Faith’s mother, whose name was Madeline, but said to the old man, “I’m a friend of your daughter, Mr. Copeland. I’m here to take Faith to get her car fixed.”