“And why are you so sure of that?” She was caught between annoyance at his arrogance and amusement at the lengths he was going to gain her attention. “Because I live in the boondocks, you don’t think I can think just as dirty as you?”
His hands halted in the middle of winding a strand. He lifted his brows in a teasing expression, but his pretty eyes took on a little shadow of heat. “Should we compare notes?”
Man, that voice. The smooth, low rumble settled heat low in her gut. But she chirped, “No, thanks.”
And he chuckled, refocusing on the lights. “Hey, I’m really sorry to hear about your dad.”
The warm, authentic tone of his voice drew her head up.
He glanced at her, then back at the lights. “I didn’t know him well, but he was always real nice to me.”
The sadness that always came with the reminder of her father’s death weighed heavy in her heart. “Thanks. He was an amazing man.”
They continued to wind lights in silence for a minute or two, but the time stretched into an eternity while Faith kept trying to figure him out.
When she couldn’t and her frustration won out, Faith tied off another strand and tossed it into the growing pile. “Why are you sitting on the floor winding lights?”
He looked up. “I’m helping.”
She tipped her head and gave him a come-on look.
He grinned, shrugged. “Maybe I’m trying to come up with a way to ask you out that you can’t refuse.” He darted a glance at her from beneath those thick lashes. “Maybe I’m hoping if you get to know me a little, you’ll say yes. Maybe—”
“Maybe you don’t want to go home,” she finished for him.
“Maybe. But those other things are true too.” He tossed another rolled strand into the pile. “I’m dying to know what project you’ve got planned with this mess.”
She sighed—partly because of the mess in front of her and partly because over the last couple of days, she’d grown to like the guy. And she didn’t want to like him. “This isn’t my proj—”
Something clicked in her head. Her hands froze. And she looked at the pile again, but this time she saw something other than a headache. She saw an opportunity.
“What just put that spark in your eye?” Grant asked.
She met his gaze, and when she found true interest there, she explained her thoughts about following Taylor’s example on YouTube. “Taylor makes really good money doing it. Granted, she talks about a totally different topic, and my knowledge may not generate the same interest, but…”
“But you’ve got to try.” He leaned back against a shelf, stretched out his legs, and crossed his feet at
the ankles. Then met her eyes as he tossed more lights into the pile. “Because from what I heard, it sounds like you don’t have much of a choice.”
Her shoulders fell, and she looked away, ashamed to be stuck in this spot. Worse, she hated telling a stranger how desperate she was. Especially a stranger who had more money than he knew what to do with. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I’m sure you will,” he said, his voice confident and sincere. “But you might figure it out faster if you let me help.” When she shot him an exasperated look, he held up both hands. “No ulterior motive. Okay, other than staying as far away from my parents as possible. And, yeah, maybe I’d like to get to know you better. I never got the chance in high school. That Brady kid had you hog-tied.”
“So you’re the Saber who was in my class.”
“Guilty. And I know a little about video. Shooting, cutting, and editing it. Getting it up online. That’s what you want help with, isn’t it?”
“Partly, yes.” Faith wondered when he was going to throw in his professional hockey player status. When he was going to mention how much money he had. When he’d start dropping the names of other famous people he hung with in the big city.
He grabbed another strand of lights and started winding. “And…”
“I knew it,” she said. “Here it comes.”
“I’d also like to do something to cheer up Dwayne.”
Faith frowned. “How’d you know this all came from Dwayne?”
“I saw him leaving. And who else in town has enough equipment for a freaking Christmas in Fantasia?”