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1
Faith St. Johnstared at the incoming call on her mobile phone with trepidation. The caller ID read Molly & Arthur Weasley—the codename she’d assigned her parents. Faith’s mum and dad never rang after 9:00 p.m. unless something was wrong, and she had a bad feeling about this.
She glanced at Dylan, the eleven-year-old she was babysitting, who lay sprawled on the couch beside her, having fallen asleep while waiting for his dad to get home. She stood and took herself to a different room so she wouldn’t wake him up.
She slowly raised the phone to her ear. “Mum? Dad?”
“Faith!” her mother, Katherine, exclaimed.
She yanked the phone away, wincing. Her mother had one volume. Loud. A trait Faith had inherited.
“Hey there,” she said, switching the phone to speaker so she could talk without risking her eardrums. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We’re here!”
Faith’s eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t follow. What do you mean?”
“Well....” Katherine dragged the word out, clearly wanting to deliver her news with a punch, as per usual. “You’ll never guess, but we came to town a week early to spend time with you. We drove up after work. Surprise!”
“Oh, my gosh.” Faith smiled. Her parents may be full-on and meddlesome, but she rarely saw them since they’d moved to Wellington, and she missed them. Her cousin Erica’s wedding was next Saturday, but she hadn’t expected them to be in town until then.
“I know. Isn’t it exciting?” Katherine’s voice sped up, and Faith imagined her father, Darren, was hurrying her along. “We were supposed to be up earlier but got stuck in rush hour traffic, and you know how long the drive is at the best of times. Anyway, we’ve arrived now, and we’re parked outside your house. Where are you?”
“I’m babysitting Dylan and Hunter. Shane Walker’s boys. Feel free to come over. Shane should be home before long.”
It was nearly midnight, and Shane typically returned from playing poker with his friends just after twelve on Fridays because he took four-year-old Hunter on daddy-son DIY dates the next morning and didn’t want to risk oversleeping. First and foremost, Shane was an awesome dad. That was one of the reasons Faith adored him. Well, that and he looked like a young Mark Ruffalo playing the role of hot professor. Yum. Unfortunately, he’d never seen her as anything other than a friend who sometimes watched his kids. Probably just as well. She wasn’t exactly stepmum material.
“Remind me what his address is,” Katherine said.
"10 Guinness Street.”
“We’ll be there soon. And darling, we have another surprise for you too.”
Faith didn’t ask what the other surprise was. She found it best to take things as they came. “Bye, Mum.”
Ending the call, she made her way back to Dylan, who thankfully hadn’t awoken. In fact, she was pretty sure he’d leave an imprint on the couch at this stage. She settled beside him. When she’d first started babysitting the Walker boys, Faith had tried to get Dylan into bed earlier, but she’d given up long ago. Perhaps it was something to do with his mother walking out on them, but he couldn’t sleep until he knew the whole family was where they were supposed to be.
The tabby cat, Tinkerbell, butted her head against Faith’s shin and she bent to pat her. “Who’s a pretty girl?”
Faith opened her magazine and picked up where she’d left off, reading an article about the latest celebrity scandal. She knew most of the stories were patently false, but they entertained her, and she enjoyed seeing who was wearing what. Of course, she had to skim every magazine before taking it to the Walker residence in case it contained a photograph of, or story about, Diana Monroe—Shane’s ex-wife who’d walked out on her family to become a Hollywood starlet. Prior to leaving New Zealand, she’d had a few guest roles on soap operas but hadn’t achieved the level of success she’d craved. These days, she wasn’t an A-lister, but was on her way up.
A while later, there was a soft knock at the front door. Faith closed the living room door behind her to muffle any noise so they wouldn’t wake Dylan and trekked down the hallway to the front entrance. She opened it to let her parents in, but then stopped, her mouth forming an O of surprise because they weren’t alone. They were accompanied by a cute guy about her age, with an easy smile and messy blond hair.
“Hello,” she said, scanning their expressions, which ranged from guilty (Darren) to eager (Katherine) to nervous (the stranger). “And who might this be?”
“Darling.” Katherine reached for Faith’s hand, but she backed up, eyes narrowed. Something was going on here, and she didn’t think she was going to like it. “Can we at least come in before the interrogation begins?”
Faith sighed. “I suppose so.”
Standing aside, she let them in. They filed past one by one, and she didn’t care for the way the stranger’s gaze lingered on her cleavage. She had a damn good set of boobs and didn’t mind them being ogled, but not when she had a sinking sensation about the reason for his presence. She led them to the spare bedroom, not wanting to disturb Dylan.
Hands on hips, she stared at her mother, then her father. “Explain.”
The stranger offered a hand. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Leon.”
Faith eyed the proffered hand the same way she might a rattlesnake. “Nice to meet you, Leon.” She studied him. He was a Niall Horan, she decided. Cute in a boyish way. “What brings you to the bay?”
He smiled, blue eyes twinkling. “You.”
