Chapter Twenty-Three

Kyle

When Kyle came in from the garage, Grandpa was waiting for him at the kitchen table, the remnants of a piece of chocolate cake on a plate in front of him. He had on plaid PJs and a ratty robe Grandma had bought for him fifteen years ago.

“Is there more of that?” he asked, and Grandpa pointed to the counter. Rosanna must’ve baked them one before leaving. He cut himself a slice, grimacing when his hands shook on the knife.

“How’d it go, kid?”

Right to the heart of things. That was the old man’s style. “Well. She liked the flowers.”

“And?”

He rolled his eyes. “I kissed her.”

“Yeah, you did!” Grandpa grinned, slapping a wrinkled hand against the tabletop. “Get over here and sit so I can grill you.”

Kyle told the story as simply as he could, trying to stay calm about it. Faith treated him so differently than other girls. She was funny and quick, and didn’t seem to care about any of the stories. Instead, she looked right through him, like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Like she knew exactly who he was.

“She sounds like a lovely girl.” Grandpa wiped chocolate from his mouth with a napkin. “I’m proud of you, boy. You seeing her again?”

“Tomorrow.”

“That sounds good. Did the trick about getting her to talk about the musical work?”

Kyle nodded, and the muscles in his arms tensed, almost like he was about to lift her again. “She appreciated that. I have the feeling her d-bag ex never talked about anything but himself.”

“Great.” Grandpa stood. “I’m off to bed. Keep it up, Kyle. Be yourself, and everything will work out.”

Be himself. It sounded so easy, except he wasn’t sure who he was. Faith had already seen more of the “real” him than anyone. But would she continue to like what she saw? “I’ll try.”

Grandpa shuffled out of the kitchen, leaving Kyle to pick at his cake. That roiling mix of emotions from earlier hadn’t subsided much. The more he saw of Faith, the more he wanted their time together to be real, and not part of “the plan.” She seemed interested, so maybe he should keep going in this direction, see how it went.

A tiny voice in the back of his head whispered awful things, how he wasn’t good enough. How he was a fraud and a liar. How a girl like Faith could never like a guy like him. Those thoughts had pelted him the whole way home, guilt for letting his need to kiss her outweigh the need to keep her at arm’s length so she wouldn’t be hurt. When she’d asked if he was okay, he’d almost snapped before realizing it.

He stood suddenly, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor, cake forgotten. He wasn’t going to listen to that doubting voice, not tonight. No matter what fears he had, no matter what humiliations lurked in his past, he was going to try with this girl. And to hell with anyone—or any voice—who told him otherwise.

Because if he knew anything at all, the way Faith looked at him tonight was enough to chase away doubt.

The next morning, after stopping by the nursery for sod, Kyle prodded the Toyota over to the Gladwells’. Faith’s Bug was in the driveway, but the other cars were gone. So she was here alone. He bit back a smile. Maybe it was time to test his resolve—and hers.

He glanced at the sod in the bed of the truck. It was already humid and unseasonably warm out again today. Whistling like everything was normal, just in case Faith was watching him from the house, he unloaded the sod and carted it to the backyard. A flicker of movement in the blinds upstairs caught his eye. Good, he was hoping for an audience.

Kyle made a big show of wiping his forehead and pulled his T-shirt over his head. After tossing it onto the porch steps, he stretched his arms high over his head. Something thumped against the window upstairs, and he choked on a laugh as he squatted to pick up a roll of sod, making sure to use every muscle in his arms, back, and shoulders to do the job.

The door from the house to the porch creaked open, but he pretended he hadn’t heard it. Still whistling, he went about laying out rolls of new grass onto the plot under the large oak tree. He bent and flexed every chance he had, methodically working as if the girl he was hoping to drive crazy wasn’t sneaking a very long peek, hiding behind the sofa on the porch.

He whistled louder. His cheeks were starting to hurt, but he wanted to make sure she heard him. Still nothing except his knowledge she was watching. He just had to try harder, then.

He stood, went to his water thermos, and steeled himself before dumping some water over his head so that it ran down his back and chest. A little squeak, then a sound like hands being clapped over a mouth, came from the porch.

Okay, game over. He walked into a patch of sunlight and stared straight at her hiding place, knowing full well water was dripping down his torso. He whistled his tune one more time.

This time, Faith’s head popped up over the back of the couch, eyes gleaming. “That was some show. Have you seen Oklahoma!?”

He whistled the chorus to “People Will Say We’re in Love” again. “I heard a girl I like is playing Laurey. I wanted to check it out.”

Even from here, even with him in sun, and her in shadow, he could tell her cheeks were turning pink. “That was nice of you,” she said. “Are you planning to be shirtless all day today? Because if you are, I thought I’d invite Vi over for some popcorn and to watch you work.”

He laughed. “If Violet comes over, I’m afraid I’ll have to put it back on. I prefer to show off in private.”

“Do you now.” Faith came to the door leading outside, but didn’t open it. She raised an arm over her head and leaned against the doorjamb, her long, lean body on full display in a pair of athletic shorts, a tank, and a hoodie.

Now who was playing whom?

He took a few steps toward the porch, a pull dragging him closer to her. “I’m thoughtful like that.”

Her smile turned slightly teasing, and his pulse kicked up. “Do you give private audiences to all your girls?”

The truth almost strangled him, but he shoved it away. Confidence. That was today’s word. “Just one.”

He watched as the smile fell from her face, replaced by something cute, embarrassed, shy. She dropped the sultry pose and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Oh. Um, then I suppose I should say thank you for giving me the exclusive performance?”

He climbed the porch steps and stood in front of her, the screen door the only thing between them. He pressed a hand against the screen. “Or you could say you enjoyed it.”

She started to cover her mouth, laughing, but pulled it away. “Oh, I think that’s a given.” She rested her hand against his, warm despite the screen. “How much work do you need to do today?”

He glanced over his shoulder. The truth was he only had a few more hours now that everything was in place. He thought about dragging it out so he could come back tomorrow, but maybe he would need that excuse to see her. “I’m almost done, but I have practice at two, so I’ll have to finish tomorrow.”

“But you don’t have to leave until, what, one thirty?” When he nodded, she smiled and backed away from the door. “Then I’ll see you at noon for lunch. Shirt optional.”

It took a lot of effort not to pump a fist to the sky once she disappeared into the house. He raced into the yard and hurried to finish laying the sod. Whatever she had planned, there was no way he’d make her wait.

Nerves be damned.