Free The American Lover by G E Griffin

gym.  I could have headed out to a club or bar and sought out some female company.
    But for some reason, I felt drawn to Faith.
    I don't know what it was about her, but she seemed to have gotten under my skin. As far as looks went, she wasn't immediately striking, and in all honesty, I probably wouldn’t have noticed her, or even given her a second glance under normal circumstances, and yet while we were working together, I kept finding myself stealing glances at her, because she had this subtle, understated kind of beauty about her.
    WYSIWYG. A what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of girl. Natural and unspoilt.
    Although I knew it would be far simpler for me not to get involved in any way, I didn't seem able to prevent myself from wanting to look out for her. Undoubtedly, part of why we’d hit it off so well was because we had a similar sense of humor, along with a propensity for saying what we thought.  We’d made a good team working together, both good with numbers, our brains wired in the same way.
    But I think what really drew me to her was the underlying vulnerability that she worked so hard to cover up.  I felt this strange affinity with her, a desire to protect her, shield her, wrap her up and make her feel better. I could see that she was struggling to claw her way out of the pit of despair she’d fallen into after her husband had been killed. Maybe I was someone who could throw her a lifeline to help drag her out. I thought I’d had a tough ride, but she made me realize it’d been a walk in the park compared to what she’d been through. She deserved to feel happy and start enjoying life again, but I’d been horrified when I’d overheard Faith apparently arranging a hook up with a couple of guys for what sounded like some kind of a kinky sex session.
    No one knew better than me that folks sometimes do the weirdest, out of character things, to help them forget their pain for just a while. Having never once strayed, having been completely faithful to my wife the entire time we’d been married, once the divorce came through, I set myself the goal of fucking a different woman every day for a month, just because I could. I didn’t actually achieve it, and it didn’t really make me feel any better, but I guess you could say it was an interesting experience.
    Thankfully with Faith it hadn't been what it seemed, because when I tried to warn her not to let anyone take advantage of her, she’d blurted out that she hadn't had sex with anyone since her husband had died. It made me realize that it really didn't sit well with me to think of someone using her, trampling all over her feelings, ending up with her being in an even worse place, just as she was beginning to recover and find her feet.
    Maybe all this explained why I was so intent on persuading her to come and have a drink with me after work, and see if I couldn’t get her to open up to me.
    I can be very persuasive when I choose to be, and I was pleased to discover I hadn't lost my touch when I got Faith to agree.
     
    ***
     
    We found a quiet table in the corner of the hotel bar, where I nursed a cold Bud, while Faith sipped just a plain soda, as she’d be driving home after.
    “So, do you have any brothers or sisters?” I inquired, wondering what kind of a support network she had. My family had always been there for me, and they’d really helped me get through my divorce. Turned out none of them had ever really liked Cassie, but they’d all made an effort to get along with her for my sake. Another thing I hadn’t really picked up on at the time. I seemed to have been walking around with my eyes closed a hell of a lot of the time.
    “Two sisters. Both older. No brothers. I think Mum and Dad gave up on the idea of having a boy after producing three daughters, thinking that was more than enough for them to contend with,” she smiled. So it seemed she had some close family.  Good.
    “Yeah, it was the same for my parents. Much as Mom would’ve loved