She slammed her eyes shut and tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Gus shuddered and, with a groan, rolled onto his side, taking her with him. For the longest time he held her close, but then he did something he hadn’t done since they’d started sleeping together. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and slid from her bed. From her warmth and her arms.
He reached for his jeans and pulled them on while, confused, she watched him in silence.
“I’ve got an early day tomorrow and I need to do some work tonight to prepare so I’m going to head back to my place.”
“Oh.” The word was small, hollow, and try as she might, Faith couldn’t hide her hurt.
Gus pulled on his shirt and kept his voice light. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded. “Are we still going to the music thing at the winery?” She was working a day shift but had the evening off. They’d made plans the week before.
“Absolutely,” he replied with a wink.
He was gone before she could ask him to stay. Something to be grateful for, she supposed. With a sigh, she rolled out of bed and, after taking care of some things in the bathroom, pulled on one of Gus’s T-shirts, which nearly fell to her knees. It smelled like him, and she hugged it to her body and walked to the kitchen. She wasn’t hungry but felt the need for something. She found a half-eaten bag of chips in the cupboard and wandered to the window, Taco at her side, waiting patiently for a treat. She offered him a chip and stared into the night.
Faith wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but it was long enough for her legs to cramp and for cold to take hold. She was about to move away when she saw something below. She pressed her nose against the glass pane and squinted into the shadows. Then, she pulled back quickly when she realized it was Gus, gearing up for a run. When she chanced another peek, he finished stretching and jogged toward the treeline that ate him whole.
She tossed the bag of chips onto the counter and sank onto the sofa. Taco jumped up beside her and placed his head on her lap. Gus had every right to sleep in his own bed if he wanted to. Or go for a run at midnight if he felt the need. She had no right to feel hurt.
And yet, how could she not? She had feelings for the man, and if she didn’t get a handle on them, she didn’t want to think about the consequences. Because he was leaving her. There was no mistaking that.
“I’m so screwed.” Her voice caught as she whispered into the dark.
The trouble with being alone was that there was no one to whisper back.
Chapter Nineteen
Gus stood at the edge of the dock, coffee in hand, as he stared out over the quiet lake. It was cooler this morning, and small patches of mist hung above the water. In the distance, he heard a loon call. The melancholy sound fit his mood.
He’d slept like shit and had been up since four a.m., which was why he was early and had the place to himself. Gus didn’t expect to see Walker or the crew for at least another hour or so. His mind rolled back to the previous night. He knew that he’d confused Faith and hated the way it made him feel. But he had so much crap going on inside him he couldn’t deal. He’d headed out for a run and then found himself at Walker’s. His friend was out — no doubt with some lady — but his sister had been down for a beer and conversation.
“Why are you here and not with your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“No?” Iris laughed. “Fuck buddy then?”
He didn’t like that particular term — not when directed at Faith. “Let’s skip that shit, okay?”
Iris frowned. “What’s wrong?”
He sighed. There was no way around it. “Mom knows something’s up. She’s at my place in DC.”
“Oh.” Iris’s eyes widened. “Shit.” She took a sip from her beer and shook her head. “I’m not surprised. She always likes to mess in our business, you know? Doesn’t matter that none of us are kids anymore.” There was a hint of bitterness in her words, and he knew that his sister was going to hate what was coming next.
“I haven’t told her where I am, but she knows I’m not out of the country and she knows you’re with me.”
“What the fuck, August? You threw me under the bus?”
“No,” he shot back darkly. “The clothes you left all over the floors at my condo told the story. She knows you’re not in Boston. Hell, by now she probably knows you got fired—”
“I quit before they fired me.”
“Doesn’t matter. She knows you’re with me.”
“Is she mad?”
“She’s not happy.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to see her on the weekend. I can’t put it off any longer. She doesn’t deserve to be kept in the dark and I don’t like lying to her.”
