“I’m pretty sure it means I’ll be working next Saturday and Sunday.”
Ford was dressed casually in a navy T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts and sneakers. He wore an old Mets ball cap, one that looked as if it was well-used. His thick hair waved around his ears and neck, and his handsome face sported a couple of days’ worth of stubble. A group of teenagers, all girls, approached them, and Faith hid a smile when she saw their interest. She got it. He was striking. Model material, really.
“Why did you name him Taco?” Benjamin got to his feet, though his hands never left the scruff of the dog’s neck.
“I love Mexican food, and tacos are my favorite thing ever.” Her gaze dropped to the dog. “He was given to me by an old . . . boyfriend.”
She was getting good at the lying thing because Taco had been a present just the year before from her fiancé.
Ex-fiancé.
“Dad, can we get a puppy? Robbie has a big gray one with one white eye and he’s so cool, and Dean has this little poofy dog that licks my face, and he got his tongue in my mouth, but I didn’t care.” The boy shrugged. “It wasn’t that gross.”
“I don’t know if we have time for a dog, Benjamin. They’re a lot of work.”
“But I promise I’ll walk him, and I’ll even pick up its poop.”
“We can think about it when we go back to the city.”
Instantly the boy’s face fell, along with his voice. He kicked at the ground. “I don’t want to go back. I like it here.”
“How about an ice cream?” Ford asked instead.
“Are you coming with us?” Benjamin turned to Faith. “Can I walk Taco?”
His little face was so earnest she couldn’t refuse. “Here. Take his leash.”
Ford put his hand on Benjamin’s shoulder. “Buddy, I’m sure Faith has better things to do.”
“It’s okay,” she replied with a smile. “I don’t mind.”
A lazy smile crept over his face, and there it was again. That feeling like she’d met this man before. Like she somehow knew him. Which was crazy. She was surprised he’d even remembered her name.
“Let’s go.” Ford pointed down the street and chuckled when Benjamin took off with the dog at the kind of pace that meant he’d get to the ice cream truck ahead of the two of them. “Wait at the stoplight,” he yelled after the boy.
“I will,” Benjamin shouted back.
“He’s seems like such a great kid,” Faith said as she fell in step beside the man.
“He’s everything.” The words were quiet. They were heavy.
For the first time she wondered about Benjamin’s mother. Ford wore a wedding band but where was the woman?
They continued down the street. Ford kept an eye on his son, and they had the kind of conversation near-strangers generally had, which was surface level. They talked about the weather. The Mets. The last action movie Tom Cruise starred in. The Independence Day activities (of which Ford echoed Tully’s earlier statement and encouraged her to attend). Eventually, the conversation eased, and by the time they reached the intersection at Main and Front Street, Faith’s eyes filled with tears, and her belly ached because she was laughing so hard. His knock-knock jokes were dirty. And funny and witty and just what she needed.
“It’s bad luck to laugh so much,” she said, swiping at her eyes.
“Well then, that’s the kind of bad luck I don’t mind.”
It felt good to laugh. To be this light. To forget. Faith tucked a piece of hair behind her ears and turned when she heard Benjamin talking excitedly. The young boy stood with Taco at his side, chatting with two men.
Both of them were dark. Tall. Tattooed.Dangerous.
The man on the right looked her way with interest. His hair was long, touching the tops of his shoulders. He wore floral board shorts, a baby-blue sleeveless T-shirt, a beige bucket hat, and sandals. On most men, it was a casual outfit. But the light summer wear did nothing to hide this guy’s muscular build, wide shoulders, and the air of danger that fell across him like an old friend. It was in the way he held his body. He flashed a smile at Faith, but it was the other man who grabbed her attention.
He was just as handsome, just as dangerous as his companion, but he was alsomore. He wore jeans, work boots, and a white T-shirt with the Foo Fighters logo. When he lookedup their eyes locked. The expression on his face was dark and intense and . . . hungry.
Her heart skipped a beat. She clamped her mouth shut because it hung open like she was a flycatcher. Never had she had such a visceral reaction to a male. Not even with her fiancé. This was on an entirely different level, and it left Faith confused. Was it just chemistry? A physical reaction to a handsome man?
