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“You’re in a good mood.”
“Are you seeing this?” Faith held up the book. “I found it on a shelf in the bedroom and I’m actually reading it. Worse, I’m enjoying it.”
“Worse?”
“I’m a Twitter kind of gal,” she said. “I usually take my words in short, digestible paragraphs, but I’m discovering I have an attention span when I’m not on my phone twenty-four-seven. But that’s not all.”
Faith got to her feet without her crutches and then took a step toward me, putting weight on her bum ankle. Then another step, then another, until she was right in front of me. Close enough I could smell her flowery perfume, the warmth of her skin; could feel her breath waft through her parted lips.
She gazed up at me. “Miracles do happen, I’m living proof.”
It would take the slightest movement—an inclination of my head—and I could capture her mouth with mine…
“That’s great,” I said too loudly, turning for the kitchen. “How’s the pain?”
“Not bad. I’m not ready for heels, but it’s a start. We should celebrate. I’m dying to get out of this condo.”
Over the last four days, we’d made small excursions in the evening after my shifts, but for the most part, she rested and gave her ankle a chance to heal.
“Sure,” I said. “Dinner? I know a place.”
“I would hope so.” She laughed. “And yes, I’d love to.”
Great,I thought with no small pang in my chest.It’s a date.
Ten minutes later, we pulled into the gravel driveway ofReggie’s. The pink restaurant with blue trim sat tucked into the greenery, off the main road. A huge wooden patio curved around from the side, where most of the dining took place. Faith crutched along with me up the front steps, gingerly putting weight on her foot, wincing now and then but never complaining. A rooster perched on a bench out front heralded our arrival.
“This island and its chickens.” She laughed.
“No chickens served here,” I said as we made our way inside. “This place is vegan.”
She looked dubious. “I’ll try anything once.Once.”
I chuckled. “It’s good, I promise.”
“Not grass burgers and kale?”
“Grass burgers are my specialty,” said a voice, and Kyoji Hayashi approached us with a grin. “Ash! Good to see you, man.” He extended a heavily tatted arm, and we shook hands.
“Reggie, I presume?” Faith said with a warm smile. “Faith Benson.”
“Aloha, Faith. I’m Kyoji. Reggie was my dog. I named this place in honor of him.”
“That’s sweet.”
“He was a good boy,” he said, leading us through his restaurant to the back patio. “How’ve you been, Mackey? Long time, no see.”
“Been busy.”
Kyoji’s eyes darted to Faith and back. “I guess so.”
He set us up with some menus, then left to get our drinks.
“You really know the entire population, don’t you?” Faith asked over her menu. “Seems like you’d have no privacy on this island. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
I shrugged. “No different than a small town on the mainland.”
“Which is why I live in a huge city,” she said, perusing the options. “I prefer my sins to go unnoticed.”
