Jamie by Lori Foster Page B

you want to explain. Otherwise, it’s for me.” And just to be despicable, she was sure, he took a savoring sip of the coffee.
    â€œDirty pool, Jamie.”
    â€œSo sue me.” He set the mug of coffee out of her reach, then dabbed the cloth in the moonshine and settled close to her on the couch. “This is going to hurt like hell.”
    â€œAnd won’t that just make your day?”
    He stroked his thumb over her jaw. Staring first at her mouth, then into her eyes, he said, “I don’t want you here, Faith, and if I could send you away right now, believe me, I would. But I’ve never taken pleasure in someone else’s pain.”
    His justified censure made her feel like a heel, and she winced. “I know that. I’m sorry.”
    Jamie’s touch lingered a second more before he gave his attention back to her leg. “The scratch isn’t deep.”
    â€œThen ...”
    â€œThere’s no reason to take chances, Faith. Especially high up on this mountain.”
    Darn. “Okay. Covering her face with her hands, Faith held her breath... and still she gasped in pain when the alcohol hit her abraded skin. It burned like fire, kept on burning and burning, even as Jamie blew against the scratch in an effort to ease the sting.
    â€œQuit complaining,” he finally said, surprising her with the grumpy words when his touch was so tender. He put a clean cloth over her leg before again easing the ice pack into place. “You brought it on yourself, and I’ll be damned if I want your leg to get infected and fall off.”
    â€œGee, your concern warms me.”
    Jamie glanced up. “I’ll never get rid of you if that happens.”
    If he meant to help her forget the sting, his tactic worked. Faith smacked his shoulder. “Don’t exaggerate. It’s not that bad.”
    He settled into the couch with his coffee—the brat—and shrugged. “You never know.” As he again sipped, he took in the sight of her scrunched-up face. “It’s still burning?”
    â€œYeah, and if you won’t give me coffee, at least distract me.” She flapped a hand to hurry him. “Tell me about your friends.”
    â€œNot much to tell. Joe moved here with Luna and took over running the lake. He’s an original badass, complete with earring and tattoo and enough muscle to put off most grown men. He’d never planned to be a husband or father, but inheriting Willow and Austin proved he could do both as good as he does everything else.”
    â€œI take it Willow and Austin are the kids?”
    â€œYeah.” He looked off in the distance at nothing in particular. Almost to himself, he said, “Amazing how resilient kids are.” He shook his head. “They had it rough for a while there, but now they’re happy. And secure.”
    Faith knew just how important feeling safe and secure could be. She felt both with Jamie. “You like Joe?”
    â€œI respect him. He’s an odd family guy, big and mean, with a visage that usually guarantees compliance with any orders he might give. But once you get to know him—”
    â€œThe way you’ve gotten to know him?”
    Jamie ran a hand through his hair. Instead of answering, he went on with his recount of Visitation’s citizens. “Bryan tailed Joe here. Back then, Bryan was a bounty hunter after the man who was after Joe.”
    â€œOkay.” Faith thought her eyes might cross trying to follow that one.
    With no consideration to her confusion, Jamie said, “Bryan married Shay and came back to settle here, and then his twin, Bruce, who’s a preacher, also moved here.” He paused, his eyes lighting as he added softly, “Bruce fell head over heels in love with Cyn, and now they’re married, too.”
    Faith eased closer to Jamie. “You’re smiling.”
    At her gently spoken words, Jamie’s eyes widened in incredulity,