AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” He must be worrying over his sister. She could only imagine. If it was one of her brothers that had been hurt . . .
Then you’d be here and they’d be home. It’s not like you could get to them quickly.
Ouch.
“Fly here and be with me.”
She froze.
Did he . . . did he need her?
Why the hell had she let her fear get the best of her? She should have gone with him.
“Do you need me? I can try and book a ticket for tonight,” she said, already bringing up the search engine on her computer. Her hands were shaking as she tried to type one-handed.
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
“Sir? Reuben?” she asked.
“I thought you were scared of flying,” he said in a low voice.
She frowned, remembering the honesty rule. “I am.” Did he think she was lying?
“But you just offered to fly out here.”
“I . . . you said you weren’t sleeping and that you needed me.” She didn’t understand why he sounded so strange.
“I do need you. I can’t sleep because I’m worrying about you. About Juliet. Fuck. She was my only real vulnerable spot. Until you.”
Why did she feel like she should apologize?
And yet, at the same time, she felt almost elated.
Faith was worried that she wouldn’t live up to his expectations. That she wouldn’t cope with his desires. Reuben Jones was a man who knew what he wanted. And had high standards. She was certain that she’d never meet them.
But if he actually needed her . . . if he truly cared about her . . .
That made a big difference. It made her feel special. Wanted.
Like this could actually work.
“I, uh . . . I am?”
“You are,” he grumbled. “I’m not happy about it.”
And just like that, her mood plummeted. He wasn’t happy that he cared about her?
That. Sucked.
“You’re not? Why? Is it something I did?”
“Why would you immediately assume it was something you did, baby?” he asked in a low voice.
Because she was a fuckup. It was a well-known fact in Public, Missouri.
Faith Blossom was a huge fuckup who’d had to run away from home to get away from the shame . . .
“I just . . . I guess I assumed it was my fault you were unhappy.”
