“Sunday? Why the hell didn’t you call me?” Guilt for ignoring his gut instinct immediately filled him.

Hadn’t he worried about the slashed tire? Didn’t he know better than to disregard what his instinct told him was important? He tamped down on thoughts of Levi. Faith was here in front of him, safe at least right now, and he intended to make sure she stayed that way.

“Seriously?” She strode out from behind the counter, hands settled on her hips, and glared at him. “I barely know you. Why would I bother you with my problems?”

He stepped closer, placing his hand beneath her chin, their gazes locked in a war of wills. “Because there was a connection between us and you know it. And because I can help you and clearly” – he swept his arm toward the door – “you need that help and support. Where is Kelsey?” he asked more gently, stroking a hand over Faith’s cheek before stepping back and giving her space.

Faith let out a breathy groan. “She’s out with the flu. I’ve been holding things down here alone, but like I said, people aren’t coming in. I think they’re avoiding me because of the graffiti and damage.” She frowned, appearing more angry than scared, for which he was grateful.

He took her soft hand in his and looked her over, inspecting her body, from her feet in pink Chucks, up her legs, past her apron, over her abundant and tempting breasts, to her hair piled on top of her head. “You look fine,” he muttered to himself, relieved.

She blinked in clear disbelief. “Now that’s a good way to turn a lady’s head. You look fine,” she said in a damned good imitation of him.

He shook his head and grinned. “I meant, you appear unharmed and you look fucking fantastic.” And she did. The messy bun and hot pink tee shirt with her store logo hugging her curves suited her.

She laughed. “Now you’re just sugarcoating the truth.”

“And you’re trying to avoid discussing what happened here.” He pulled her over to the nearest table and held out a chair. “Sit and talk to me.”

She narrowed her gaze as she lowered herself into the chair. “I came in early on Sunday and found … this.” She gestured to the window, her expression alternatively sad, then furious.

He slid his chair closer to hers before settling in. “Do you think it’s related to the slashed tire?”

“I have no idea,” she said, as her entire expression suddenly shut down.

It hadn’t been his imagination, either. One minute she’d been engaged in the conversation; the next she’d closed herself off to him.

From the minute he’d laid eyes on her, he’d marked her as special. He still wouldn’t let himself think of her as his. She was right in saying they barely knew each other. But if she thought he was going to let her get away with deflecting about something as important as her safety, she was about to learn that Jason Dare didn’t screw around when it came to people he cared about. And she’d just been added to that short list.