“Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, his warm gaze running over her face.
“Do you want to know how I plan to decorate?” she asked, suddenly feeling like a kid with a secret she longed to share.
“Of course.”
She swept across the room and gestured over the entire north wall. “I plan to paint a mural here—bright, eye-catching colors, and the cradle will go here, and a set of drawers here, and a baby changing table here,” she explained as she moved around the room. “I’d like to hire someone to come in and do some built-in shelves on this wall—something that’ll last, that can be used even when the baby is in high school. Now that you’ve cleaned out the room for me, I can order a new carpet. I haven’t decided what color to do the walls in. It’ll depend on whether or not I decide to know the sex during the next ultrasound.” She turned toward him and paused. “I mean, what we decide,” she added weakly.
“Sounds like you have big plans,” he said, inspecting the blank wall as if he saw something there she didn’t. “I’ll pay for half of the redecoration.”
“Oh...I didn’t mean...well, I suppose that’d be okay,” she fumbled. He’d said it so unexpectedly, she hadn’t had time to prepare. He was the baby’s father. It was a perfectly reasonable offer.
“Can I build the shelves?”
“Can you do something like that?” Faith asked, eyes wide.
Ryan’s nod was entirely confident. “My father taught me carpentry. We used to take on projects together as a hobby when I was a kid. I did the built-in bookshelves in my condominium in San Francisco. Here,” he paused, digging in his jean pocket and extracting his cell phone. He tapped a few buttons and handed the device to her. “It doesn’t have to look exactly like that. I can design it for whatever you want and need for the baby.”
“Oh, it’s amazing,” Faith exclaimed, staring at a photo of beautifully crafted floor to ceiling maple shelves and cabinets. She glanced at Ryan with amazement. “I can’t believe you built that. Jesse used to say you were the best pilot he’d ever met,” she said quietly. “He said your reaction times were off the charts. And here you could have had a career as a carpenter, as well.”
“Not likely,” Ryan said, grinning and putting away his phone.
“Yeah, I guess you don’t get the adrenaline rush with carpentry that you do with flying.” For some reason a jolt of disappointment and irritation had gone through her when she saw his appealing, but undoubtedly cocky, smile. She was all too familiar with the rootless flyboy type. A man like Ryan would never be satisfied with a career like carpentry, or anything that kept him so grounded.
“My love of flying was never about the adrenaline rush. Or at least not primarily about that.”
“Really?” Faith asked, her eyebrows quirked upward and a small, slightly incredulous smile on her face. She started to walk away, but blinked in surprise when Ryan caught her hand and pulled slightly until she swung to face him.
“Really,” he said emphatically, an odd expression shadowing his visage. His gaze narrowed on her. “Why are yo
u so convinced that I’m an adrenaline junkie, hell-raising pilot?”
“Come on, Ryan,” she said with soft remonstrance. “I was a military wife. Do you think I don’t know the personalities of the majority of Air Force pilots? I know it’s a stereotype, but a pretty well-earned one, at least in my opinion...”
She trailed off, knowing she’d made a mistake when she saw the fire flash in his eyes. “So that’s what I’m up against?” he asked, his voice quiet, but commanding. “Not just Jesse’s bad behaviors, but your stereotype about all pilots being jacked-up jerks always looking for the next high over the horizon, be it with a hot, fast jet or a hot, fast woman. Is that it, Faith?”
She blushed at his graphic description, but bristled at it, as well. “I’m not going to apologize for my experience.”
“Fine,” he replied quickly, pulling her a little closer until the lapels of their shirts brushed together. This close, she could see the inky black color of his lashes and the gleam of the lamplight in his ebony eyes. “Just do me the favor of not judging me by it until you’ve had a chance to broaden your horizons.”
“I suppose you think I need more of the experience that I had with you on Christmas Eve?” she said sarcastically, and immediately regretted it. His nostrils flared at her challenge. His head lowered until their mouths were only inches apart. Against her will, Faith felt herself close the distance between them infinitesimally.
“That wasn’t what I was talking about,” he said quietly, his gaze roaming over her face and landing on her lips. “But honestly? Yeah, I think that’s precisely the kind of experience you need. With me,” he added succinctly, causing the burn in her cheeks to transfer to other parts of her body.
“I’m not about to make that kind of mistake anytime soon,” she whispered shakily. She went still when he suddenly palmed her jaw and spoke so close to her mouth that she felt his warm breath fanning her lips.
“I’ll be ready for you whenever you change your mind.”
Faith blinked, disoriented, when he dropped his hand and walked away.
* * *
Ryan stalked to the kitchen, anger and arousal surging in equal measure through his veins. By the time he’d gathered all his tools, closed his toolbox and retrieved the rented metal truck, regret had joined the potent brew.
He should feel more compassionate toward Faith, given everything she’d been through with Jesse’s faithless ways. He’d never been more infuriated at Jesse for what his friend had done, wounding such a lovely, generous woman.
What if Faith could never trust a man again? The possibility was too terrible to consider for long. Somehow he had to convince her that this strong, powerful attraction they shared for one another wasn’t the sign of a lustful fling, but the stable basis for something real...something lasting.