“I have an Uber,” she said. “The driver’s trying to find a towel.”
“A towel?”
“He doesn’t want my muddy ass on his seat.” Faith broke down again, shoulders shaking, her blond hair blowing around her shoulders. Then shook her head defiantly. “No. Never mind. Not going to freak out. I’m fine.” But the tears started again and she gestured furiously at her muddy, bandaged leg. “How did this happen? I came here for personal growth. Does this look like personal growth to you? My entire trip is ruined.”
“How long are you here for?”
“Three weeks.”
“That’s not so bad—”
“I got here yesterday.”
“Oh.”
“What is so bad about shopping anyway?” she cried. “What’s so terrible about sleeping in and cocktail parties and meaningless sex?”
“Nothing,” I said, grinning despite myself. This woman…
“This was stupid. I should have stayed at home.” Faith huffed a steadying breath.
“Feel better?”
“No.” She wiped her eyes, then glared at me. “Asher, right? Once again, why are you here?”
I started to answer, but then she winced as a flash of pain came over her. She didn’t need to be standing on a curb. She needed to get cleaned up, elevate her leg, get some ice on that ankle.
She needs someone to take care of her.
“Fuck the Uber,” I said, moving toward her. “I’ll take you.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
“You want to wait for Towel Boy and then try to cram into the back of his car? Come on.”
She grimaced and I could see her struggle to keep the pain off of her face.
“Hurts, right?”
She nodded. “I thought you didn’t like me.”
“Maybe you’re growing on me.”
“I don’t need any help.”
“I strongly disagree.”
The Uber driver rushed over, waving a white towel. “Got it.” He beamed. “Ready, ma’am?”
“Ma’am?” Faith muttered. “I’m twenty-nine, for God’s sake.” She looked between me and Towel Boy, hesitating.
I took a step closer to her so that we were face to face. “I’ll get you home safe,” I said. “It’s what I do.”
Her green eyes—stunning and clear—widened. “Do you practice lines like that in the mirror?” she asked, though the breath in her voice betrayed her brassy words.
I didn’t answer but slipped my arm around her slender waist. Her lips parted, eyes locked on mine. I took the crutches out of her hands and thrust them at the Uber driver.
“Carry these,” I said, and then gently lifted Faith and strode toward my Jeep.
“My hero,” Faith said, trying to maintain her sarcasm, but I felt her melt into my arms with relief.
And my arms answered by holding her tighter. She tucked her head against my shoulder. Her hair was soft as it brushed my chin, and the scents of her flowery shampoo wafted to me. Carefully, I maneuvered her into the front seat, stowed her crutches in the back, and sent Towel Boy on his way.
“Where are you staying?”
“Pono Kai condos.” She watched me throw the car in drive and take off, wincing as I hit the gas. “You don’t need GPS?”
“I’ve lived here for five years,” I said. “And this island isn’t exactly huge.”
“True. Where are you from?”
“New York City.”
“Were you a fireman in New York too?”
“Nope. Hedge fund investment manager.”
Her eyes widened. “Wall Street?”
I nodded.
“You traded all that for island life? Permanently?”
“Never looked back.”
She whistled. “I could never. Especially since Kauai doesn’t seem to like me very much.” She winced as the Jeep jounced on a turn. “Easy, Mario Andretti.”
“Sorry.”
Faith yawned. “I want to know how a Wall Street hedge fund manager becomes a firefighter on a tiny little island half a planet away, but I’ve had a day. I’m going to take a little nap. If that’s possible with your stellar driving.”
I grinned. “That bad, eh?”
She settled herself against the window and closed her eyes. “The helicopter was less traumatic.”
I scoffed but couldn’t wipe that stupid grin off my face, while wondering what the hell it was about Faith Benson that was making me upend the rest of my day to put up with her. I’d made it a personal rule to never get involved with tourists for more than a night or two, but sex wasn’t on my mind.
Okay fine, it was lurking somewhere in the deepest recesses of my brain because she was a stunningly beautiful woman and I was a red-blooded male.
But she was injured, alone, and needed help. And I liked her. I liked her fire and her wit.
My gaze darted to Faith, where her face was relaxed and free of pain and worry for the first time since I’d met her.