Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(56)

He sighed audibly, but instead of releasing her, he held her closer. Christie rested her head against his shoulder and absorbed the warmth and comfort he offered.

“Allow me to drive you home?”

She nodded. She was in such pain, and she was finished being stupid. She’d been ridiculous to think she could actually walk that distance.

“Good.” He carefully lowered her to the ground.

Holding hands, they walked side by side. Clutching her shoe in her other hand, Christie limped back down the driveway. Once they reached the car, James opened the passenger door for her. This time she didn’t protest.

She was half in the vehicle and half out when he stopped her. Leaning forward, James pressed his mouth to hers. His hand was in her hair, his lips urging, questing, deepening the kiss until she trembled. When he lifted his head, she nearly fell the rest of the way into the car.

She wanted to ask why he’d done that, but found she couldn’t speak. She didn’t say a word during the drive. At her apartment complex, he parked and helped her out.

She couldn’t meet his gaze. “Thank you.”

He nodded formally.

She lingered, hoping he’d kiss her again.

James didn’t disappoint her. He kissed her long and hard. While she was still reeling from his touch, he climbed into the car and drove away.

Twenty

Troy’s daughter had called her at work that morning, and Faith was actually looking forward to seeing her. Poor Megan had sounded hesitant about interrupting her at the clinic, but it was the only number she had, since Faith’s home phone was unlisted.

In the intervening days since she’d seen Troy, Faith had thought almost constantly about his visit. Perhaps she’d been more unyielding than necessary. She also wondered—had to wonder—whether he’d used Megan as an excuse. Megan didn’t seem unreasonable and she clearly loved her father. Faith couldn’t believe she wouldn’t want him to be happy. Perhaps Troy had misread his daughter’s attitude. Or perhaps he was inconsistent about his own feelings for Faith.

“Could we get together?” Megan had asked. “I’m having some problems with the baby blanket. I’d really appreciate if you’d take a look at it for me. I’ll buy your lunch,” she’d added.

“Nonsense. You don’t need to pay for my lunch and I’d be happy to look at the blanket.” They arranged to meet at the deli Tuesday afternoon, during their lunch break.

Afterward Faith reviewed their brief telephone conversation. The two of them had developed a relationship, although Megan didn’t know Faith had been involved with Troy. This lunch would be the perfect opportunity to tell her. Faith had no interest in the kind of secrecy Troy had tried to maintain. She’d noticed early on that he hadn’t wanted his daughter to know they were seeing each other. In any event, it couldn’t possibly matter now.

When she got to the restaurant, Megan was already there, having secured a table by the window. She waved, and Faith walked across the crowded room to join her.

“I came a bit early so I could grab us a table,” Megan explained. She stood, quickly hugging Faith.

Megan looked healthy, Faith observed; her hair shone and her color was good. That cliché about pregnant women glowing was certainly true for her. Knowing how close Troy was to his daughter, she assumed he was thrilled with the news of this pregnancy. If Megan had told him…When the opportunity arose, she’d ask.

The waitress rushed over to their table, menus tucked under her arm and two water glasses in her hands. “The soup of the day is broccoli and cheese, and the special is a crab melt,” she informed them.

Megan and Faith each ordered soup and decided to split the crab melt. They both wanted tea, so the waitress returned minutes later with a large blue teapot and two cups.

Megan brought out her knitting. “I made a mistake way back here,” she said, her brow furrowed as she stared down at the blanket. The pattern was relatively simple but did involve a four-row pattern. Faith knew, at a glance, what Megan had done wrong. She’d repeated the third row twice.

“Does it bother you?” Faith asked, studying the half-completed blanket.

Megan nodded. “At first I didn’t think it would, so I just kept knitting.”

Faith had done that plenty of times herself. “But now, it seems glaring, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does.”

“Then go back and correct it,” Faith advised.

“Really? You’re saying I should tear all this out?” She sighed as if that was exactly what she’d been afraid of hearing.

“I do it quite a lot,” Faith told her. “Sometimes I’ll tear out a section three or four times before I get it right. If the mistake’s really minor, I might leave it in. In those cases I’m usually the only one who knows it’s there.”

“This is a big mistake, though, isn’t it?”

“That depends on how you see it,” Faith said carefully.

“If something like that bothers you, you tear it out?”

“Well, I generally do. I feel better about the project, and it seems that whatever I reknit goes twice as fast.”

“Then I’ll rip away,” Megan said, apparently satisfied with her decision. “By the way, I told my dad and Craig’s parents about the baby.”