She nodded, a grin on her face. “It’s like a taste of home,” she said softly.

Sensing this meant something to her, he wanted to know more. “How so?”

She sighed. “My mom and I used to make candy all the time when I was growing up. She always wanted to open a store in our small town, but she didn’t have the ability. Things were … out of her control. And she needed to work to take care of me and my brother. But this was her favorite recipe and it reminds me of her.”

“What happened?” he asked. “If you want to talk about it.”

“She died recently.” Faith blinked and looked away.

Recognizing raw pain, he changed the subject. “Well, your candy is delicious and I hope you succeed,” he said, treating her to a warm smile, realizing their time together was coming to an end.

“I have a meeting I need to get to,” he said. But he wasn’t ready to leave.

“Oh, right.” She rushed over to the kitchen and returned with a basket in her hand. “Take this. As a thank you. You’re a Good Samaritan, Jason Dare.”

He accepted her gift, their skin brushing as it exchanged hands. A shot of electricity jolted up his arm and went straight to his cock. Something about this woman got to him, from her gorgeous face and curvaceous body to her strength and the hint of occasional fragility beneath. He knew with everything in him he ought to stay away. From the fact that her tire might have been slashed to the fact that she didn’t radiate one-night-stand type of woman to him, he should say goodbye and walk out the door.

“Have dinner with me.” He blurted out the words before he could think them through.

She stared at him in surprise, those pretty lips pursing in thought, green eyes huge. “Umm … I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I have too much going on right now and I don’t date and … well, we shouldn’t.” She sounded sad, as if she didn’t want to say no.

He rolled his shoulders, deciding it was for the best even if he didn’t like being turned down by her. “I understand.”

She stared at him for a heartbeat. “Well, thanks again.”

He inclined his head. “You can thank me by locking your door and being careful out there.” Her slashed tire stayed with him, bothered him, even.

Sure, this was New York City and not the best neighborhood, so it really could have been done by someone who considered vandalism a good time. He’d probably have gone with that theory, too, if not for her slightly panicked reaction she’d tried to hide.

“Don’t worry. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself,” she said, striding toward the door. “But I’ll take your advice.”

He stepped out the door she’d opened for him. “Bye, sweetness,” he said. “It was nice meeting you, Faith Lancaster.”