mouth. They lingered on the breeze and—much like the nicotine in the drifting smoke—Miles loved the buzz they gave him. “And I’m here to offer her any emotional support she needs.”
“She can get that from us now.”
“I know.” He kept his tone conciliatory. Wanting her to understand that he wasn’t here to tread on toes or run interference between Charity and her family. “Charity and I are very aware that our relationship will end after I leave. We’ll both go home to our families and our lives will continue on without each other. And we’ll be the better for having had this beautiful thing between us.”
“I’m so angry with her,” Faith unexpectedly admitted, from between clenched teeth, taking another drag before tossing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath her heel. “And I feel like I can’t tell her that because she’s already been through so much.”
“You’re her older sister. I reckon you’re entitled to speak your mind.”
“How can I?”
“Trust me, Charity is not a fragile flower. Fuck…despite everything she survived with that bastard—no, likely because of it—she’s one of the strongest people I know.”
“I feel like I don’t even know her anymore. Three years she was in that marriage, and then another three years after that, hiding out there in the middle of nowhere. And she never told us. We never had an inkling. Meanwhile we ate with those horrid people, cried with them, laughed with them. We fucking loved them and they broke our girl.”
She covered her face with her hands, sobs shuddering through her slender frame and Miles, after a brief hesitation, enfolded her in his arms. She was similar in height to Charity, but softer, rounder.
He preferred Charity’s leaner, sleekly muscled body. A fact which constantly surprised him, since he had always enjoyed soft, rounded curves before.
“They didn’t break her. She’s in that restaurant, fiercely unbroken, and ready to share her war stories with you. It may have taken longer than you feel it should have…but it’s happening right now. And I think you should be in there. To hear what she has to say.”
“God.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “Your family must find you insufferable. You’re such a fucking know it all.”
“Yes,” he agreed somberly. “And, worse, I’m right all the time.”
She made a sound, something between a sob and laugh and moved out of his arms.
He plucked his handkerchief from the front pocket of the dinner jacket she still had draped over her shoulders and offered it to her. She took it with a soft murmur of thanks and used it to dab at her cheeks and vigorously blow her nose.
“Hope you weren’t expecting this back?” she asked tartly, taking one last swipe at her nose, and he chuckled.
“You and Charity are very much alike, you know?” he pointed out, with a wry shake of his head.
“I used to think so,” Faith said with a heavy sigh.
“Come on. Let’s get in out of the cold.”
“Today was weird.” Charity shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the back of the plush sofa in their quaint cottage. Because of her earlier tension and dread, she hadn’t paid much attention to the accommodation Miles had arranged for them. This place was simply fantastic. Beautifully furnished, comfortable, and luxurious.
She sank onto the large sofa and absently rubbed the back of her neck, wincing at the knots she found there. Miles was in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards. He paused in his search for whatever to stare at her assessingly.
“Tea?”
Charity snorted in amusement at the prosaic question. It was so typical of Miles.
“You do know that’s your go-to remedy for everything, right? Last year, when your sister fell and twisted her ankle? You immediately called for tea. When your brother’s boyfriend dumped him the year before? Extra sugar in the tea.”
“It does cure all ills,” he murmured sagely, and filled the kettle.
“I don’t need tea, Miles.”
He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and lifted his head to look at her. God, he was so wildly beautiful. It was unfathomable to her that she had once found him anything less than gorgeous. Jaw dark with day old stubble, hair shaggy and in disarray thanks to the wind. His white dress shirt was open at the collar and rolled up to his elbows. The expensive fabric strained at the muscular shoulders, proof of how much he had bulked up since his illness.
He was amazing, caring, concerned…and so damned present.
What the hell was she