She winced. “No,” she started to say. “It’s only—”
“I can count, too. All the way to one hundred,” he continued, his voice cutting. “I know my letters and everything.”
“Look, we don’t really know each other, do we?” she snapped. “Why shouldn’t I be surprised?” She motioned to the sculpture. “I can’t do anything like this. I don’t know anyone who can. It’s a surprise because it’s incredible. Maybe you shouldn’t be so defensive,” she accused.
His lips pressed into a flat line, apparently digesting this.
“It’s a compliment,” she added. “That’s all I was trying to do. The gracious thing to do is to accept it.”
After a long moment, he nodded. “All right. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He was slow to move, but he finally did, stepping closer to her, a great wall of living heat coming at her. “That doesn’t erase the fact that you trespassed.”
She swallowed. “Er, yes. Sorry.”
“It’s just there’s lots of dangerous equipment in here.” His eyes rested on her face even as he motioned around him with one hand. “And the space is . . . tight. And filthy.”
She stared at his mouth, hearing those last words and suspecting he wasn’t talking about his workshop anymore. He reached a hand between them and touched the thick silk ribbon dangling from the collar of her blouse. Her breath caught at the proximity of his fingers to her breast. “A nice clean thing like you could get dirty.”
She swallowed again. “I won’t come on your property again.”
“Oh, you can come over any time. I just want you to know what you’re getting into when you do.” Okay, he definitely was talking about more than her stepping foot into his shop.
Her face warmed and she remembered his earlier words. He’d charged her with drawing a line in the sand. It was up to her to cross it.
He dropped the ribbon and stepped to the side, suddenly all brisk business as he waved her to pass. “Thanks for closing my gate . . . even though you have yet to do that.”
She sniffed and smoothed a hand down her skirt. “I would have.”
“Right.” He grinned and her stomach did that heady flip-flop.
She stepped past him quickly, making sure they didn’t brush each other. Not touching North would be the smartest thing she had done all day. Far smarter than snooping around his backyard and discovering there was, in fact, much more to North Callaghan than she could ever have imagined.
FIFTEEN
Faith managed to avoid North Callaghan over the next few days. She actually didn’t even have to try very much. They simply didn’t bump into each other. She was starting to wonder if maybe he was avoiding her. For some reason that stung. Was he trying to make a point? Did he really expect her to come after him? To cross that proverbial line in the sand? Not. Happening. She went about her life and tried not to glance next door every time she emerged from her house or pulled into her driveway.
She spent Tuesday and Wednesday conducting interviews around Sweet Hill. She visited the elementary and the middle schools, responding to concerned calls placed by staff members regarding specific students. She completed a few home visits as well. She thought she was done for the day at five but just before leaving the office, she received a call from the local police department requiring a social worker present as they executed an arrest at a home with a child in residence. Faith took the four-year-old and stayed with her in one of the back rooms at the police station. One of the officers ran out and bought the little girl a Happy Meal, which she happily munched on as she and Faith drew together in a Dora the Explorer coloring book until the grandmother was able to come and collect her.
It was after nine by the time she arrived home. North’s bike was missing from the driveway. She told herself she didn’t care as she stumbled through her house to her bathroom. After a quick shower, she made her way down to her kitchen. Opting for easy, she pulled a frozen pizza out of the freezer and stuck it in her oven.
Leaning against her stove, she sighed as she waited, rolling out her neck. Truthfully, it wasn’t the day that had her tense. Her gaze drifted to the kitchen window and the shut blinds. Call it pent-up sexual frustration.
She released a gust of breath. Things were gonna get a whole lot more pent up because trains would not be colliding and she would not be crossing that line in the sand.
When her pizza was ready, she took it upstairs with her diet soda and ate in bed while watching TV. She rarely ate in bed, but she did it now so that she would not hear when North pulled into the driveway. It would keep her from rushing to the blinds to score a glimpse of him. She didn’t need that temptation.