She wondered if “here” could also refer to her apartment, sharing their evening and their stories. Because, for the first time in a long while, Faith was happy, too.
“How’s the apartment coming along?” She wanted to keep the conversation moving, worried that the end of it would signal the end of their time together. For some reason, she just wasn’t ready for him to leave.
“It’s coming, but slowly. I haven’t been home long enough to unpack much. I’ve got another 24-hour shift coming up here, too, so stuff with the apartment is on the backburner for now.”
“You said your lease is for six months?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I figured that would give me enough time to see if this was somewhere I’d want to settle down permanently. Didn’t want to lock myself into something I couldn’t get out of.”
She wondered why that confession made something in the pit of her stomach sink. It shouldn’t matter if this was just a temporary gig for Mitch. She’d only known him a couple of days, after all.
But she liked having a neighbor. She liked havingMitchas a neighbor.
“I really should head back to my place and let you get some rest,” he said again.
Did she look tired? She was, of course, considering the dream that had given her one of her most fitful sleeps in years. Standing from the loveseat, she reached for Mitch’s glass.
“Nope. I’ve got these.” He collected both wineglasses before she had the chance to, threading their stems through his long fingers in one hand so he could gather the wine bottle into his other. “Do you have a recycling bin?” He swung the empty bottle like a pendulum. Faith couldn’t believe they’d actually downed the entire thing.
“Under the sink.”
She followed him the short distance to the kitchen, stepping back when Mitch took the lead to wash their glassware. In all the years she’d been with Kevin, she couldn’t recall a single time he’d done the dishes. Why was the act of watching this particular man rinse the sudsy glasses so attractive?
She swallowed, attempting to reclaim her composure.
He made quick work of the glasses, stacking them on the drying rack next to the sink. Turning so his backside pressed against the counter’s ledge, he coolly crossed his ankles and nudged his chin toward the window with a smirk. “Got a good view, huh?”
To get a better look from his vantage point, Faith joined him at the counter. Her view looked directly into Mitch’s apartment window. “Huh. Never noticed. My last neighbors tended to keep their blinds drawn.”
“Hmm.” He made a noise, shrugging. Then he turned toward her, his physical presence suddenly bursting her bubble of personal space, making her breath quicken. “Goodnight, Faith Porter. It’s been nice, although I do think that bottle of wine might’ve been corked.”
She fought to silence the gasp that slipped between her lips. Sheknewit. “Didn’t seem to stop you from drinking it.”
“I’m a polite guest.” He gave a small yet dramatic bow. “What can I say?”
“You could have said, ‘Faith, I think this bottle is bad.’ Seriously. I can’t believe I served you spoiled wine, and you actually drank it.”
“What?” His chin drew back. “And miss out on spending the evening with you? Not a chance.”
With that, Mitch turned, took the front door handle into his grip, and exited, leaving Faith alone in her apartment with too many racing thoughts, and just as many unanswered questions.
CHAPTER 7
The end of Mitch’s shift couldn’t come fast enough.
It had been a hectic twenty-four hours, filled with emergencies ranging from a small kitchen fire to a pile up of motor vehicles along the congested highway. Mitch and his fellow firefighters had been on their toes, responding to calls, conducting routine equipment checks, and engaging in physical fitness training to stay prepared. And while he didn’t mind bunking at the station, the anticipation of returning to his apartment, and possibly even Faith’s, was at an all-time high.
She had dropped by with a plate of delicious cookies again, and like the last time, he had missed her once again. He shouldn’t have been surprised but this batch was even better than the previous one. Mitch wondered if that was truly the case, or if getting to know the baker behind the confections somehow boosted their appeal.
Troy made more mildly inappropriate comments while the rest of the crew mostly ignored him. He’d also given Mitch his sister’s number, one Mitch only pretended to enter into his phone.
He had no real interest in pursuing anything there. And he was pretty sure that was because his interests lay elsewhere. Meeting Faith had changed his outlook on dating altogether.
In fact, he’d spent the better portion of the previous night staring up at the ceiling, brainstorming the perfect date. By the time his eyes finally shut out of sheer exhaustion, he had a half dozen well-thought-out dates in the roster of his mind. One involved ice skating, something he’d never done but figured Faith was a pro at. She just seemed like the sort to grow up with a frozen pond in her backyard and ice skates hanging by the back door. Another included hot chocolate in mugs they would paint at one of the ceramic shops he’d strolled past on his first day in town. They would go back to his place to put on a romantic comedy of Faith’s choosing, while making indoor s’more’s with a kit he saw once that he could order online.
The last was the most romantic, one he would have to save for later…ifthere even came future dates. He was completely aware he was putting the cart before the horse here.
Even after he’d left the station and had parked his truck in his reserved space just below his apartment, his thoughts were still on Faith. It had been a while since a woman had done this to him—captivated him in such a way that he could scarcely think of anything but her.
