“Well. We used to. I mean . . . not anymore. No. We don’t.” Her voice faded away. She sighed. In her attempt to not reveal anything about her relationship, or lack thereof, with North, she had probably already revealed too much. Clearly they weren’t just neighbors. They were more complicated than that.
Knox’s expression turned from knowing to sympathetic. He stared at her so long she shifted awkwardly on her feet. “You seem like a nice girl,” he finally said. “Whether he realizes it or not, my brother deserves a nice girl in his life.”
She swallowed against the sudden lump that had formed in her throat. She nodded, unable to pretend she didn’t know what he meant. “Yes. I happen to agree with you.” As conflicted as her feelings were for North, she couldn’t disagree that he deserved love and forgiveness in his life.
Knox stared at her long and hard. “My brother is a good man. Not perfect, but a good man. He might doubt that, but I never have.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Knox smiled slowly. “I like you, Faith Walters.”
She gave a rusty laugh. “You don’t know me.”
“I’d like to. My wife and I would like to get to know you. Hopefully, North will bring you around.”
Her smile slipped away. “Yeah, sorry, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
She sobered. There would be no getting to know each other because she was moving and even if she wasn’t North wasn’t about to bring her around his brother and sister-in-law.
All this talk about North being a good man didn’t amount to anything if he didn’t believe it himself. And there was the not-so-minor point that he didn’t love her back. He wasn’t capable of either of those things—loving himself or her.
“I think I’m going to have to cut you off.”
North looked up at Piper standing over him, one hand propped on her hip. He glanced down at the single beer in his hand. “Little zealous, aren’t you? This is my first.”
“Yeah, but you’re swapping eyes with Bambi after just one beer and that is not a good idea. I’m seriously questioning your judgment. You don’t need more alcohol to muddle your head.” She wrinkled her nose. “Trust me, my friend, even you don’t want to go there with Bambi.”
He looked over at the purple-haired dancer. She lifted her chin in his direction, the invitation clear. He’d come here tonight looking to escape—and because staying at his house meant he was only feet from her door. That didn’t seem like a good idea. His resolve, when it came to Faith, had already been tested and failed.
Piper followed his gaze. “She’s a nightmare you don’t want in your life.”
He lifted his beer and took a slow sip as the dancer squeezed her breasts and blew a kiss at him. “Funny. She doesn’t look like a nightmare.” Even as he uttered this, he felt nothing. Not the faintest stirring. Not the slightest temptation. The sight of the half-naked woman did nothing for him, which was a shame. He’d told himself the best way to get over Faith was to get another woman under him. When he left his house that had seemed like a fine idea. Unfortunately, that was no longer appealing. Staring at Bambi only made him feel empty inside.
“I thought you were seeing someone anyway.”
He looked at her sharply. “What gave you that idea?”
She shrugged. “Just a feeling. You’re not seeing Serena anymore.”
He took another pull from his beer. “I’m not seeing anyone.” Even as he uttered the words, the image of Faith filled his mind.
“Please. You got that look.”
“What look?”
“The I’m-hung-up-on-someone look. What’s her name?”
He shrugged. She nudged at his shoulder. “What’s her name? C’mon.”
“Faith Walters.”
“Walters. Huh, like that jackass Sheriff Walters.”
“Yep. That would be her brother.”
Piper stared. “You’re kidding. You’re dating the Sheriff’s sister?”
“We’re not dating,” he snapped, too quickly.
“Ohh.” She rocked back on her heels. “You’re in love with her.”
“What? How do you get that? I told you we aren’t dating.”
“Riiiight. That’s why you’re sitting here looking at the dancers like you’re suffering through a plate of liver and onions.” She motioned to the men around them. “Do you see any of these other guys looking like they’re in that kind of anguish? No. That would just be you.”
He grunted a response.
She moved past him, patting him on the shoulder. “Dreams come here to die. Trust me. Forget about this place. Go home to your girl, North.”
He sat alone for several more minutes, trying to convince himself that Piper was wrong, that if he stayed here long enough he would be able to forget about Faith—that he could lose himself in someone else and not want her anymore.
The purple-haired dancer stopped before his table. She twirled a bright lock of hair between her fingers and looked him over coyly. “Hey, there. I’m Bambi. Want to get out of here?”
He stood up from the table and dropped a few bills on the table for Piper. “Yeah. I do.” Without another glance, he turned and left the club. Alone.
North pulled onto his street and stopped hard, his foot digging into the brake pedal as his gaze locked onto the For Sale sign in Faith’s yard. She didn’t . . .
She couldn’t . . .