For some reason it bothered him that she thought he was in here banging a drunk woman. And that was senseless. Stupid even. Why should he care what she thought of him?
Whatever the case, it didn’t stop him from thinking about her. From wondering. Did she go back to bed? Did she sleep in that green mask? Did she fuck wearing it, too? Shaking his head, he released a little laugh.
He didn’t think she was married. There hadn’t been any evidence of a husband or live-in boyfriend. She appeared to live alone. Meaning she wasn’t getting any. At least not recently.
Well, maybe she should. Maybe that would help loosen that stick up her ass. Maybe then she wouldn’t care about what sounds she heard coming from his house at night. He took a pull of beer and wondered why he was suddenly so interested in Faith Walters’s sex life.
He let another ten minutes pass before he headed back upstairs. As suspected, Serena was asleep, sprawled across his bed, fresh drool falling. Grabbing the top blanket on the bed, he gave it a yank and took it with him as he headed back downstairs. He didn’t feel like sharing a bed tonight.
He dropped down on the couch, rested an arm over his forehead and pulled the blanket up to his waist. Rolling his head sideways, he stared at the wall until he fell asleep.
SEVEN
Faith woke the next morning feeling resolved, if not rested.
A sudden shout from outside and the slam of a door didn’t even faze her.
Of course. Why wouldn’t last night’s drama carry over into the morning?
Bowl of cereal in hand, Faith moved to her kitchen window and watched the redhead storm out and jump in her car. Serena took off with tires squealing. Apparently last night’s fun didn’t extend into the morning hours. Shrugging, Faith moved back into the kitchen. She rinsed off her bowl, spoon, and set them inside the dishwasher.
She was done. She would leave no more notes asking North Callaghan for anything. She was a Walters. That meant she had resources. Normally, she didn’t like to pull strings, but it was time. Time to cast her principles aside for a greater purpose.
The next time she wanted to communicate with North Callaghan, she would not rely on notes. She would not beat on walls. She would not knock on his door just to have it go unanswered.
She would be heard. She’d pick up the phone and call him directly.
So if her resources happened to involve calling Doris, her brother’s dispatcher, on her way to work, no one needed to know. She would be happy to help Faith. Doris had been sneaking her candy from her desk drawer ever since Faith was three years old and Doris worked dispatch for her father.
When her cell phone rang midmorning as she was coming out of a meeting, she identified Doris’s name as the caller. She reached for the pen on her desk, ready to copy down North’s phone number. “Hey, Doris,” she greeted. “Were you able to get me that—”
Doris cut right to the chase. “Why do you want this guy’s number?”
“Uhh . . .” She hadn’t bothered to explain why to Doris. They’d both been in a hurry this morning and it just hadn’t seemed necessary. Asking Doris to keep it under wraps and not mention the request to her brother hadn’t seemed a big deal either. Doris understood Hale’s tendency to interfere and she was totally in Faith’s corner.
“Tell me you’re not dating this guy, Faith.”
“No!”
“Whew. That’s a relief. Your brother wouldn’t like that.”
“Why, Doris? What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s got a record, Faith. His rap sheet is ugly. This isn’t the kind of person you need to be around. Who is he to you, Faith?”
North Callaghan was a criminal? Hadn’t she thought that beautiful body a weapon? The type honed not in a gym but rather on a battlefield?
“Um.” Now probably wasn’t the time to tell her they were neighbors. “No one, Doris. I just wanted his number.”
Doris sighed, accepting that Faith wasn’t going to give her the full story. “Okay. Just be careful, Faith.”
Faith nodded, jotting down the numbers Doris recited and vowing not to ask Doris the particulars of North’s record. It conveyed a level of interest she did not want to project. From here on out, she would do her own digging.
And it was time she learned everything she could about North Callaghan.
All day Faith stared at those digits scrawled on the slip of paper on her desk, not getting nearly enough work done. She finally caved and typed them into her phone for safekeeping. Under contacts, she hesitated and then typed in Asshole Neighbor.
She giggled, pleased with herself. That kept things in perspective.
Okay. So she lived next door to a felon, but he’d served his time. She had no reason to be scared of him. He’d roused several emotions in her since she moved in, but fear wasn’t one of them.
He’d been out for two years and he had lived a clean, crime-free life since his release. It wasn’t as though he was a pedophile or rapist.