She wrinkled her nose at the nickname.

“Would you prefer candy girl?” he asked, chuckling at the blush on her cheeks as he walked away.

* * *

If Faith dated anyone, she would date Jason Dare. She leaned back against the door and sighed like a teenage girl crushing on her first date. My God, that man had an ass to die for.

When she hadn’t been carrying candy baskets upstairs, she’d been ogling his rear end in his suit trousers. She could only imagine him naked, and that was the idea that had her shivering when her thoughts should be on whether her slashed tire was a freak incident as she’d told Jason or a warning sign from the brother she’d run away from.

When they were younger, she’d loved her brother, but as he grew up, Colton developed … issues and that was putting it mildly. Drugs took over his life.

She stepped away from the door, hating that she was going down this train of thought, but she couldn’t help it. The tire had brought up all sorts of fears. And memories.

Colton showing up after her mom died unexpectedly, demanding his share of the estate, only to find out he’d been disinherited. His rage and anger. Though her mom hadn’t been wealthy, she wasn’t poor. She’d had money from her parents, which she’d saved, and she’d taken out a life insurance policy with Faith as the beneficiary.

She double-checked the lock and dead bolt on her door, as the memories continued to flow. As much as Faith would have liked to share the money with her sibling, Faith agreed with her mom. Colton would throw the money away on drugs, so she honored her mother’s wishes and refused him.

She should have known that wouldn’t be the end of it. Colton came by high one night, broke into her apartment, grabbed her around the neck, and threatened to kill her. That was the moment she understood the brother she’d known was lost to her, and fear like she’d never known encompassed her.

Maybe she should have called the police, but she’d been afraid of angering him more. She knew from experience he never stayed behind bars for long, no matter what petty crime they picked him up for. So within three days of his threats, she’d quit her job, packed up the necessities, and left her small Midwestern town, heading to the biggest city she could think of, where she could get lost.

She’d checked into a hotel with cash, then found a lawyer willing to see her that same week, and he filed paperwork to change her name from Faith Holland to Faith Lancaster. Understanding the rush, he’d pulled strings to get her in to see a judge, who he convinced her life was in danger. And as she still had faint bruises on her neck, and photographs she’d taken immediately after, he’d been willing to seal her records.

She’d been in New York for a year and she’d moved fast with everything she’d done. She had a new name, a new life, a shop she’d leased because it already had a commercial kitchen … and as she glanced around her apartment and out the window, she remembered she also had a slashed tire that might or might not present a problem.