“Hey, Grant?”
He recognized Faith’s voice immediately, which threw him completely off axis. “Faith?”
She huffed a tired laugh. “Who were you expecting? How many women do you have calling you at this hour?” He grinned at her quick sarcasm, but she didn’t sound quite right. “Hold on. Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
“Are you out of breath? Or just tipsy?” Lowering his voice, he teased, “Did you get into the Jangle Punch again?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” There was definitely something off in her voice. “If you get here soon, I might still have some to share with you.”
He didn’t get a chance to ask if she was serious, because the line went dead. Grant pulled his phone from his ear and stared at it. Then shrugged. Jangle Punch or no Jangle Punch, there was nowhere he’d rather be than with Faith. Annoyed or not.
He reached for the bathroom door.
A knock came from the entry to the guesthouse, followed by, “Grant?”
He cringed at the sound of his mother’s voice and leaned on the door handle. “Yeah, Mom. Taking a shower.”
“Sorry, honey. I wanted to tell you that Patrick came in early. And Shawn’s going to be delayed. Do you think you could come up to the house for a drink before you turn in? Patrick’s interested in the landscaping barrier you put in the planting beds out front. Says he’d like to use it at his house and had some questions.”
“Shit,” he whispered, then said, “Actually, I promised Dwayne I’d meet him to talk about some team strategy tonight. Can you tell Patrick I’ll catch him tomorrow?”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, and Grant braced for her incensed anger. “All right.”
When she didn’t say more, Grant said, “Thanks.”
“Sure.” Pause. “Honey, I just wanted to tell you that your dad and I really appreciate all you’ve done around the house this past week, and despite our rough start, it’s been so nice having you home.”
He rubbed his face, so not in the mood to deal with this. Nor did he know what to say. Based on years of experience, he wasn’t ready to jump into expectations. “Thanks, Mom. I’m glad.”
“Tomorrow maybe we can sit down with your schedule and see when we can all make it to one of your games.”
He dropped his hand, lifted his head, and stared at the door. “Really?”
Okay, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say out loud, but…really?
“Yes, really. You know, your dad’s been under a lot of stress at work. Normally he’s not so…angry.” She paused. “Well, say hello to Dwayne for us. We’ll talk to you in the morning.”
When the door closed, Grant shook his head and muttered, “Who was that, and what did she do with my mother?”
But he wondered only for a second, because he had someone very special waiting for him.
Grant splashed on a little cologne and dressed in jeans and a tee, and was out the door in two minutes flat. He shrugged into his parka on the jog to his SUV sitting in the drive and headed toward town.
With edgy alternative rock shaking the car and his mind spiraling through what-ifs over Faith’s phone call—specifically, what if she’d called to tell him she wanted him and just couldn’t find the words?—Grant was primed and pumped when he took the steps to the store two at a time and found the front door open. He stepped into the darkened store to the familiar tinkle of a bell and the rasp of his own quick breath.
He was just about to call for her when Faith’s voice floated up from the basement. “I’m down here.”
Grant frowned. “And…what are you doing down there?”
At the bottom of the stairs, he found three feet o
f water covering the concrete floor and Faith dressed in the same clothes she’d been wearing at the rink—only now she was soaking wet.
She reached high to add a box to the top of a shelving unit and glanced over her shoulder. “Well, hello, Mr. Saber.”
All his excitement evaporated, and his shoulders sank. He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and tilted his head. A pipe had obviously broken, and it hadn’t happened in the last fifteen minutes.
“I’m guessing this means there’s no Jangle Punch awaiting me,” he said.