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But because she was Faith, her inner light came back to full intensity a moment later. “Your precious nephew was talking up Waimea Canyon the other day. I was thinking of heading there tomorrow. Do you think I can cut it, or is that too advanced for me?”

“You could do it,” I said. “But I have other plans.”

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting you had to take me—”

“I have other plans for you.”

Faith froze for a moment, then tried to flash me a coy smile, but there was a tremble in her voice that went straight down my spine. To my crotch, specifically.

“You have plans for me?”

“For us.”

“Us.”

“Snorkeling,” I said, my voice thick now too. I coughed. “You can’t come to Hawaii and not snorkel. It’s a law somewhere.”

“So it’s more of a necessity for me than something you want to do.”

“I want to. I haven’t been in a while.” God knew I was fucking dying to see this woman in a bathing suit, but that was beside the point. “A buddy of mine takes small charters out to a wreck off the south shore. I was thinking we could tag along with him tomorrow morning.”

Faith took a sip of lemonade, then ran her finger along the lip of the glass. “My ankle is just starting to feel better. Putting fins on seems like a bad idea.”

“No fins.”

“Then how?”

“Leave it to me. I got you.”

If I could’ve snatched those words back, I would’ve. Too late, they hung between us, and I watched Faith take them in.

“By the way,” she said softly. “When I said that I wasn’t suggesting you take me to the Canyon, that was a lie. I was one hundred percent hoping you’d take me.”

“I know,” I said in a low voice.

She toyed with her fork as her eyes rose to meet mine. “Are we in trouble, firefighter?”

I understood her meaning. Because I could read her, and she could read me, and neither one of us wanted to do much else besides figure each other out.

“Not yet,” I said quietly. “But we’re getting there.”

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