Between Hello and Goodbye(11)

“My hero,” Faith said.

She was valiantly trying to maintain her sarcasm, but I felt her melt against me. Carefully, I maneuvered her into the front seat, stowed her crutches in the back, and sent the Uber driver on his way.

“Where are you staying?”

“Pono Kai condos.” Faith watched me throw the car in drive and take off, wincing as I hit the gas. “You don’t need GPS?”

“I’ve lived here for four years,” I said. “And this island isn’t exactly huge. Why aren’t you at one of the big resorts in Poipu or Princeville?”

“Because if I stayed there, I’d stay there. At the pool bar, specifically. No personal growth, remember?”

“I remember,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road.

“But that’s over.” Faith sighed. Not a dramatic one, but a real letting go of something she wanted. Or needed.

I wanted to tell her it didn’t have to be over, but that was bullshit. Everything would be a struggle because she had no one to help her through the first, hardest days.

I could practically see Morgan’s annoying, expectant smirk and promptly ignored it.

“I’ve had a day.” Faith yawned and leaned her head against the glass. “I’m going to take a little nap, if that’s possible with your stellar driving.”

“That bad, eh?”

“The helicopter was less traumatic.”

I scoffed but had to hold back a stupid grin, still wondering what the hell it was about Faith Benson that was making me sacrifice the rest of my day to put up with her. I was supposed to be in Hanalei in a few hours. Not to mention, I’d made it a personal rule to never get involved with tourists for more than one night in the sack. Two, tops. But sex wasn’t on my mind.

That’s a goddamn lie.

Okay, fine. Faith was a stunningly beautiful woman, and I was a red-blooded male. But she was injured, alone, and needed help—not to be taken advantage of. I was many things, but a lowlife wasn’t one of them.

I stole a glance at Faith, her head pillowed against the window, eyes closed. Her face was relaxed and free of pain and worry for the first time since I’d met her. I liked that I’d done that for her. I liked her. She was a pain in the ass, but I liked her fire and her wit…

My brother’s knowing smirk returned. That’s a lot of liking.

“Shut up,” I muttered.

“Hmm?” Faith murmured.

“Nothing.”

Ten minutes later, I pulled into the Pono Kai parking lot. The condo complex wasn’t a resort, but not a dump either—a midrise of condos, most of which were now likely vacation rentals. I woke Faith up and carried her past a koi pond to her condo’s front door. She keyed the door and I kicked it open.

“Ooh, that felt very firefighter-y,” she said.

She was smiling up at me, and it took all I had to keep my gaze on her clear green eyes and not let it drop to her mouth. But staring into her eyes was just as bad. Rimmed with long dark lashes, they glinted with humor and more than a little heat, too.

I tore my gaze away. “Where?”

“Couch.”

The condo wasn’t huge but modern, with all the usual Airbnb-approved-ocean-themed crap on the walls. The setting sun’s soft orange light streamed in from large windows, and the beach was a short walk from her lanai, for all the good it would do her now. I pulled the coffee table closer to the couch so she could rest her foot on it.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You need ice.” I went to the freezer in her chrome and marble kitchen.

“They just wrapped up my foot…”

“I can rewrap,” I said, putting ice cubes in a Ziploc. “Besides, don’t you want to get cleaned up?”

Faith arched a perfect eyebrow. “Are you heroically offering to bathe me?”

I brought the kitchen mallet hard on a bag of ice cubes and coughed. “I’m a professional. I cut clothes off people every day.”

“I’ll bet you do,” she purred.

Christ…

“I’ll call a nurse friend.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Asher…?”

“Mackey.” I came around to sit on the coffee table. Carefully, I removed the boot and bandages from Faith’s ankle. Gripping the delicate muscle in her calf, I set a dish towel over her swollen foot and a bag of crushed ice over that.

“Hurts,” she whispered.

“Already looks better than earlier.”

Her gaze darted to me hopefully. “You think so?”

“Definitely. I bet you’ll be walking by the end of the week.”

She shook her head. “I’m not staying a week. I’m done.”

“Giving up already? I thought you were here for a reset?”

“Did I say that?”

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Well, whatever I came to do isn’t happening. It’s back to Seattle for me.” She watched me gently settle the ice so that it stayed put. “Where are you from?”

“New York City.”

“Were you a fireman there too?”

“Nope.”

She raised her brow, waiting for me to elaborate, but my business was my own and it was going to stay that way.