Her teeth went to work on her lower lip as she focused on his shirt. “Someone else needed it.”
An elderly gentleman made his way toward them, lifted a bag of pretzels from the rack, and kept going. Alec kept his eyes on her face. This wasn’t the time for this, nor was it any of his business, but hell if he was letting this drop. Call it writer’s curiosity. When they were alone, he’d ask the rest.
He took the bag out of her cart and replaced the chips on the shelf. “You about done?”
“We can check out.”
She spoke so softly that if he hadn’t been watching her mouth, he might not have heard her. That mermaid voice that was doing funny things to him.
While she checked out, he bagged her groceries. They walked to his car, where he put the bags in the trunk. Once they were seated inside, he turned over the ignition, put the car in drive, changed his mind, and shoved the gear back into park.
“Are you dying? Is that it?”
“No.” Just that. No. And an expression that was carefully blank.
He turned, his fingers tightening on the wheel as he stared straight ahead.
“People can live with only one kidney. I just don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
He had no clue why this sickening dread tore at his gut, or why her words made him want to break something. He barely knew her. He shouldn’t be invested in whether she was sick or not. In honesty, she could have four hearts and six lungs, and it shouldn’t matter.
“You’re angry.”
He put the car in drive. “I’m not.”
“You are. I don’t . . .” She reached out for him but quickly drew her hand away.
He pulled into traffic. “You don’t what?” he asked, keeping his voice calm.
Instead of answering, she turned her head away and watched the scenery pass.
chapter
six
Alec strode into Jake and Lacey’s house and called out for Lacey. Jake was working, but Lacey’s car was in the drive. Their housekeeper came into the living room, wiping her hands on a towel.
“She’s upstairs in her studio, sir.”
He nodded his thanks and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Classical music droned from the speakers in the corner and Lacey, her back to him, was standing in front of a canvas.
“Knock, knock.”
She turned but her usual smile was slow in coming. She walked to the iPod station and turned the music down. “Hey. Everything okay?”
No, but it wasn’t her problem he couldn’t shake the shit Faith had said from his mind. “I’m good. I was wondering if you’d be up for getting everyone together for a night out. Dinner, a club, something. Tonight’s probably too late, but next Friday?”
“Do you mean with Cole and Mia?”
“And Faith.”
Now she smiled like she meant it. “Sure. I’ll talk to everyone. It’ll be fun.”
He nodded and turned to go, but her canvas caught his attention. Or rather, what she was painting on the canvas. “What’s that?”
“Oh, come look.” She wiped her hands on a cloth and handed him a printout. “I went over to Faith’s earlier to invite her to join me and Mia at the spa tomorrow. She had this picture on the mantel of her and her sister. I snapped a picture with my phone.”
“I thought it was just her and her folks.” Wasn’t that what she’d said at lunch this week? The photo was obviously taken years ago. Both girls wore big grins and hospital gowns. The other one, Faith’s sister, had no hair.
“Her sister died from cancer. It must’ve been a while ago because that’s the only photo she had out.”
Cancer. That . . . sucked.
They looked like sisters. The facial shape and pouty mouth bore similarities. But where Faith’s eyes were golden brown, her sister’s were hazel. She also seemed to have a good four or five years on Faith.
Faith who ate only insanely healthy food, went to bed at a decent hour, and only had one kidney.
Someone else needed it.
Her sister? Alec didn’t know a lot of the medical aspects of cancer treatment, but would a new kidney be a requirement? Maybe the sister had renal cancer? He shook his head.
“I thought I’d paint the two of them, but I don’t know what her sister’s hair looked like before she lost it all. Do you think she’ll be upset I’m doing this?”
Hell if he knew, but it was a nice thing Lacey was doing. In the painting she’d started, she’d replaced the hospital gowns with regular T-shirts. Also gone was the hospital bed and the tubes and wires protruding from them both. Lacey had painted the ocean behind them instead.
Alec examined the picture more closely, wondering why Faith was connected to the equipment if she was healthy. Maybe this photo was taken when she donated the kidney. It was obviously a hard topic for Faith to discuss, as she’d changed the subject when he’d asked about her habits.
No wonder. He felt like an ass for teasing her.
He handed the printout back to Lacey. “I’m sure she’ll love it. You can always ask her about the hair when you see her.” If Lacey was attempting to replace the negative images by removing the hospital setting, then leaving her sister’s head bald wouldn’t be wise.
“I hope you’re right. I don’t want to upset her. I painted Cole, Dean, and I like this for Cole’s living room. He loved it.”
Dean being their brother who had died ten-plus years ago. It had hit Cole and Lacey very hard. Had hit everyone hard.
Lacey’s painting captured Faith’s smile and eyes in vivid detail. Guess her skills went beyond landscapes. “You’re very good.”
“You think?” She beamed a smile with all the innocence of youth, clearly not seeking compliments. Guess everyone had their insecurities. Even rich princesses.
“I do.” He walked to the door. “Back to the writing cave for me.”
Except when he returned to the guesthouse, intent on pounding out some words if it killed him, images of Faith with IVs and hospital gowns swam before his eyes, blending with images of Laura from years ago. The look on Faith’s face when she’d explained her diet was just as haunting. He forced himself to think of the sweet smile Faith had when he drove with the top down, but that only caused more chaos in his head.
Fuck it. He scrubbed his hands over his face and retrieved a beer from the fridge to sit out on the back deck. But he couldn’t sit either. So he paced.
Eventually, the restlessness eased and he leaned against the railing. Dusk was starting its descent, taking with it some of the heavy humidity from the air. A few sailboats were still in the water off in the distance. Gulls circled overhead. Waves lapped the shore. He took it all in, hoping for a glimpse of inspiration to get words down. Anything he could hold on to with both hands.
Damn, but he couldn’t shake the emptiness inside. Even as a child, he’d had fictional characters and story ideas for company. Losing that was like solitary confinement. Isolation. He was powerless. Useless.
Lost.
Glancing to his left, he caught Faith on the other side of the beach, walking toward the water. Her arms were crossed in front of her and, just as she’d done before, she watched the ocean with still composure. Everything about her resonated serenity. If not for the loneliness and longing in her eyes, he’d swear she had no emotions. He wondered how long it took her to train herself not to desire. To want. Because Faith, for some ungodly reason, appeared satisfied with being invisible. Where others pushed and fought for more—more money, more friends, more status—Faith was content, just as she was, in her little corner of the world.