Free Tempting Faith (Indigo Love Spectrum) by Crystal Hubbard

certainly easier to read. He had to angle the numberless face of the watch just so to catch enough light to read the time.
    It was 9:55, and knowing that Faith would soon walk through the door sent a surge of anxiety through him. He didn’t want to watch the door, but he found himself staring at it, his eyes fixed immovably on it.
    His palms began to sweat, so he wiped them on the legs of his jeans. Afraid to blink and miss the moment she came into view, his eyes went dry. Without realizing it, he clamped his jaw hard enough to compromise the integrity of the smile Olivia had bought for him. Even though he had later reimbursed her for every penny she’d spent on his transformation, she still referred to his smile as hers.
    The tense agony of waiting left him rigid enough to snap, but then the glass door swung open, and Faith entered the deli.
    Zander sat up straighter.
    She seemed to move in slow motion, which gave him the time to take in everything about her.
    She looked taller, but that might have been a trick of her shoes, black pumps with ankle straps that drew his eye immediately to her legs. A slim-fitting black skirt hugged her hips and complemented her white blouse, which was buttoned low enough to instantly make his mouth water. She removed her black sunglasses, a pair of sensible plain RayBans, and slipped them into her oversized handbag. With a flip of her shoulder-length hair, which she now wore straight, she zeroed in on him, her dark eyes narrowing.
    Zander’s heart pulsed in one hard, painful beat, and a low moan escaped him. Meeting her at Krasco’s was agony enough without seeing that the pretty cheerleader he couldn’t forget had grown into an impossibly beautiful woman.
    She slowed a step when he stood. He opened his mouth to greet her, but no sound came out. “Hello” didn’t seem to be adequate, not after ten years, and certainly not considering the conditions under which they had separated.
    Faith took the initiative. “Mr. Baron ,” she said pointedly.
    She plopped her bag on the booth seat and slid in beside it. After placing a slim, stylish microcassette recorder on the table, she laced her fingers and studied Zander.
    Her knuckles whitened under the effort it took to keep her hands from trembling. She fought the urge to chew a corner of her lower lip, one of her most obvious signs of nerves. She had so many things to say to him, but she dared not open her mouth until she was sure she could do so without screaming, crying or kissing him.
    “Can I get you something to drink, or—”
    The appearance of the waitress startled both Zander and Faith, and their sudden jumps in turn alarmed the waitress, who leaned heavily against the table behind her, clutching her order pad to her chest.
    “I’m sorry,” she laughed nervously. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
    “You should be scared,” Faith said, keeping her eyes fixed on Zander. “It’s not every day you get to serve a dead person.”
    “Uh, could I get a fresh pot of coffee, black,” Zander requested hastily. “And a three-egg white omelet, no salt, no oil, with spinach. Fresh spinach, not frozen.” He turned back to Faith. “Would you like something?”
    “No,” Faith said, the lone syllable as friendly and warm as the snap of a crocodile’s jaws.
    Zander swallowed hard. “Thanks,” he said to the waitress. “I think we’re set.”
    “I’ll be back in a few with your order,” she said brightly.
    She started off, but turned back twice to peer at Zander before disappearing behind the swinging door to the kitchen.
    “I think she recognized me,” Zander said quietly.
    “That makes two of us then,” Faith responded. “Egg white omelets? No salt or oil? You’re all kinds of California now, aren’t you? It couldn’t have been easy giving up Red Irv’s ‘psghetti and patabas.’”
    He loudly cleared his throat. “The coffee’s good here. You—”
    “The coffee at Red Irv’s was good, too,” Faith said