92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [44]
The coffee gurgled behind her, and the slow dripping sound came to an end.
“It’s none of my business who you have dinner with.”
“True, but I felt you should know.”
He nodded as though acknowledging the information. That was encouraging.
“Are you sure I can’t talk you into having coffee with me? It’s almost four, and there probably isn’t enough time to go back to sleep.”
He hovered uncertainly in the kitchen doorway.
“Why is that such a difficult decision?” Faith asked, half joking.
“I should go.”
It was hard to hide her disappointment. “I understand.” Thankful for an excuse to turn away, she filled her mug and added cream. When she turned back, she discovered that Troy had taken a few steps into the kitchen.
“Before I do, I want you to tell me again what happened tonight. Start with the fact that someone was at your bedroom window.”
She sipped her coffee, letting the warmth seep through her. “Yes. I heard the footsteps.”
“You heard noise out by the garage on another occasion.”
“Yes, there was that spray-painting incident.”
“Has there been anything since?” he asked. “Before tonight?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Well, you should be aware,” he said in a brusque voice.
Faith exhaled slowly, unaccustomed to dealing with Troy when he was angry. This was a side of him she wasn’t familiar with. Troy Davis had never revealed a temper in her presence, not in the past and not recently. Until tonight.
His mouth tightened.
“I…I probably should keep closer tabs on the garage and the house, too,” she said.
“Yes, you should.”
“You’re making me feel foolish.”
Troy ignored the comment. “Have the interior security system installed, and ask Grace and Cliff to place a motion light above the garage.”
“I’ll do that at the first opportunity.”
“Don’t put it off,” Troy warned.
“I won’t. I promise.”
He nodded, but didn’t meet her eyes.
“Good night, Troy,” she said softly.
For a long moment he didn’t say anything. “I appreciate knowing you’re not involved with Will Jefferson.”
“Why’s that?” she asked.
Troy looked down at the floor. “He’s not a good match for you, Faith.”
“So who do you think is a good match for me?” she pressed.
This time Troy Davis didn’t hesitate. His eyes met hers. “We both know the answer to that.”
She leaned forward expectantly.
“It’s me, Faith. It’s always been me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Will Jefferson glanced at his watch. It was Saturday night, and he’d made reservations at D.D.’s on the Cove. The restaurant was one of the nicest in town and he intended to impress Shirley Bliss.
They’d seen each other twice now. Once for coffee at Mocha Mama’s, when she’d brought her daughter. The meeting hadn’t gone badly. With Tanni there, Shirley had been relaxed and easygoing. Shaw and Tanni had bantered back and forth, and they’d all laughed. He’d enjoyed it, somewhat to his surprise, and he could tell that Shirley had, too.
Their second date wasn’t technically a date, either. They’d met by accident late one Sunday afternoon outside the mall. Will had been at loose ends and apparently she had, too. He’d invited her to the movies. The day was dreary and cold, and it’d been an offhand suggestion. He’d been delighted—and astonished—when she agreed.
He ate popcorn. She didn’t. As the credits started to roll he offered to take her to dinner. He was eager to discuss the movie, which was a complicated drama about the meaning of identity, real and fake. However, as soon as they left the theater, Shirley seemed to find it essential to get home. He let her go but spent the next few days wondering how to proceed with her. It might have worked out better if Tanni had been with her that night, too. One thing was apparent—at least to him. Shirley was frightened to death of falling in love again. Will hoped he’d be the man to allay her fears.
If he wanted a relationship with Shirley, he’d need to be patient, gentle, persistent. Her nervousness around him had puzzled him at first—but it meant she was aware of him. That gratified Will because he was certainly aware of her.