“Let’s move the baskets back to the apartment,” Faith said, breaking the spell that had woven between them as they stared at one another, both clearly struck by something bigger than themselves.

“I’ll take some.” Kelsey walked between them and started to work.

Together they unloaded the candy, which Faith and her assistant brought back upstairs to what he assumed was her apartment while he did something he hadn’t done since college.

It was a miracle he knew how to change a tire.

For sure, his father, Robert Dare, hadn’t taught him, as he’d rarely been around. Maybe he’d taught Jason’s half brothers from a woman nobody knew about how to handle the things a man should know. Shaking off that painful memory, Jason called his cousin Gabe and let him know he would be late before throwing his jacket into the back of his car, rolling up his sleeves, loosening his tie, and getting down to his task.

While he worked, Kelsey called an Uber to take her home and one showed up quickly. Apparently Faith, having taken one of his business cards, had decided he was a legitimate businessman and safe to be alone with.

It didn’t take long to get the tire off the van, and on examination, Jason realized it had been deliberately slashed, and that bothered him.

“How’s it going?” Faith asked him.

“No problems, unless you count the fact that someone deliberately cut your tire.” He glanced over his shoulder.

Faith had frozen in place, her eyes wide, her concerned expression clearly telling him she was upset.

“It’s probably some of the kids in the neighborhood,” she finally said, visibly forcing herself to relax. “They congregate around here late at night, and I haven’t looked at the van since the day before yesterday.”

He wasn’t sure whether or not he believed her, and he tucked her reaction away to dissect another time.

She wrapped her arms around herself, appearing uncertain for the first time since he’d met her. And a fierce feeling of protectiveness rushed over him, one he’d previously experienced only for people he cared about, yet he didn’t know this woman at all.

“So what are you doing with all the candy?” he asked as he worked on the tire, eager to take that stricken look off her face, change the subject, shake off the weird emotions she provoked in him, and maybe get to know her at the same time.

“I own a store called Sweet Treats,” she said. “I want to build my business, so I made baskets of my signature item, and I was going to go around to the local businesses and ask if they’d put the candy and my business card by the register.”

“What makes your candy stand out?” he asked.

“Other than how good it is?” she asked cheekily. “It’s handcrafted and made with love. If I grow enough, I’ll have to bring in outside-made candy to fill the cases, but that’s for another time. Meanwhile, I know I’m a small shop and it’ll be hard to get my name out there, but if I can dominate the area around my store based on the one thing I offer that’s different than anyone else, then maybe word of mouth will work in my favor.”