If this conversation has proven anything, it’s that I want more than peace between Jake and me. I want to care about him. I want my friend back. I want to make him laugh the way I used to, to help him lighten up and remember to make time to play.
As I watch him walk back to the firehouse with solid, dutiful steps, I vow to make it happen. By the end of our month of dates, I’ll bring some fun into Jake’s life, or die trying. And then maybe, just maybe, he’ll see I’m not such a bad friend to have around, after all.
The thought makes me smile until Faith turns and says, “Who the hell do you think you are?”
I clear my throat. “Excuse me?” I ask innocently, though I heard her loud and clear. But in years of working with often-volatile personalities in the entertainment industry, I’ve learned most people won’t repeat an antagonistic remark twice.
Given the chance to back down, most will.
“I said, who the hell do you think you are?” Faith repeats slowly, proving she isn’t most people, and that Jake hasn’t cornered the market on loathing me.
“Do you know what he’s been through?” she continues, propping her hands on her hips. “Do you have any freaking idea?”
“I do, and that’s why I came over to speak with him,” I say in my most placating tone. I don’t want to start feuding with anyone in Bliss River, especially not someone Jake cares about. After seeing them together today, I don’t think Faith and Jake are romantically involved, but they’re obviously close. “I learned what happened to his wife after the auction last night,” I continue softly, not wanting the words to carry. “I realized it was getting close to the day he lost her and felt terrible that I might be putting stress on him at such a difficult time. I told him it was fine if he wanted to forget the dates, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I’m sure you know how stubborn he is.”
Faith frowns, but when she speaks her voice is less venomous. “You really said that?”
“I did. And I meant it. I don’t want to hurt Jake, I promise. I just want to be a friend to him. If he’ll let me.”
Faith’s pale brows shoot up. “Are you serious? You think you and Jake are going to be friends?”
“I hope so.” I smile, hoping it looks more confident than I feel. “Jake means a lot to me, and I’ll be a good friend to him if he’ll let me.”
She gives an amused snort. “Lady, I get that you’re trying to be cool, and I appreciate it and all, but you obviously don’t know Jake.”
“Oh, I know him,” I say wryly. “But you don’t know me.”
“No, seriously,” she says, a hint of pity in her tone. “If you betray Jake’s trust once—that’s it, no second chances. He’s like the Old Testament God, the one who turned people into pillars of salt for looking back when he told them not to, and stuff. I mean, I love him like a brother, don’t get me wrong, but forgiveness isn’t his strong suit.”
“I know. That’s why I bid on him last night,” I say, deciding I like this girl. Anyone who cares this much about Jake is good people in my book. “I knew the only way to get him to stick around long enough to even think about accepting my apology is if he feels obligated to remain in my presence.”
“That’s pretty hardcore.”
“I’m pretty hardcore,” I admit with a shrug. “But I promise I’m not going to do anything to hurt Jake. That’s not on my agenda.”
Faith nibbles her bottom lip, seemingly debating whether or not to accept my claims at face value. Finally, she sighs and lifts her hands in grudging surrender. “Okay. We’re cool. For now. But I’ve got my eye on you,” she warns, narrowing her gaze as she steps past me onto the sidewalk.
I nod. “Noted.”
“I’m going to get burritos,” she adds as she backs away, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. “You want one?”
“Really?” I ask, touched by the unexpected offer.
Faith shrugs. “Yeah, well, I know you guys bought the place across the street. I’m torn between being a friendly neighbor and giving you the cold shoulder out of respect for Jake. Right now, I’m leaning more toward friendly neighbor. But I could switch to cold shoulder at any moment,” she adds quickly, obviously wanting to make it clear that a welcome-to-the-neighborhood-burrito doesn’t mean I’m home free with her.
I nod again, fighting a smile. Her bluntness is refreshing and the more she talks the more I like her.
“Understood,” I say. “I’ll skip the burrito. And go ahead and give me the cold shoulder for now if you want. I think Jake would appreciate that.”