Faith

What the hell was I thinking? I couldn't go to lunch with a stranger. I threw the tenth tank top down on the bed and huffed, fisting my hands into my hips. Not only did I not know him, but I had nothing to wear.

Okay, that was a lie. I had plenty to wear. But what did a slightly too curvy woman wear to lunch with a built, crazy attractive man I didn't know, and his friends? I eyed the colorful array of clothing that adorned my king sized bed. There were tank tops and t-shirts, bikinis and coverups, jeans, cutoffs, and two cute flippy skirts that I was sure Birdie packed. Actually, I'm sure she packed the bikinis too, because they were all too skimpy for me. Conspicuously absent? My sensible one piece suit.

I picked up a cute, hot pink tank top and held it in front of my naked body, trying to ignore the fact that my hips are too wide, and my belly is more than a little soft. I sighed and threw it back on the bed.

Fuck.

Cupid had lured me into this impossible trap by being sexy and cute, and smoldering at me. My ovaries just couldn't take it. Not with such a recent dismissal from the man that was supposed to love me unconditionally. The heat in Cupid's eyes had done wonders to boost my confidence, though. And now I was second - and third and fourth - guessing everything.

I starfished my body on the bed, disturbing mounds of clothing. I lay naked, staring up at the ceiling fan, which looked like it had palm fronds for blades. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't cancel, I didn't have any way of contacting him. And it's super rude to tell someone you aren't coming when they show up at your door. I just needed a little push, a hint that I was supposed to go to lunch with this man who was power to the tenth out of my league, and his probably equally sexy friends.

My phone chirped on the bed next to me, and I picked it up. There was only one person who would text me, since just about everyone else in my life had split the second they heard Gavin and I were separated.

Birdie: I can feel you freaking out from here. *Kiss Emoji*

Faith: I'm not freaking out. *Frowny Face Emoji*

Birdie: I can almost see you laying on your bed, all your clothes in piles around you, and you are in your bra and panties. And those probably don't match. *Grin Emoji*

Faith: No one's going to see my panties to know if they match. *Bikini Emoji*

Birdie: So you're starkers, then. *Smirk Emoji*

Faith: I'm not any good at this. I have never really dated. I met Gavin, and six months later we got married. How do I do this?

Birdie: I thought it was just lunch. *Smirk Emoji* *Kiss Emoji* *Heart Emoji*

Faith: *Frowny Face Emoji* *Expletive Emoji* *Heart Emoji*

Birdie: Wear the red bikini I packed you, and the white cover-up. And those sparkly black flip-flops.

Faith: That's not real clothes. That bikini barely holds my tits, and the cover-up is see-through. *Wide Eye Emoji*

Birdie: I know. *Wink Emoji* *Kiss Emoji*

Faith: I don't need to get laid. I need to heal.

Birdie: You can do both. How much better would it be to heal with a nice gigantic cock in you, making you forget Cheater McCheaterson's face?

Faith: He's like eleven degrees of hot. I'm talking abs for days, tattoos and this dimple on his cheek that I want to bite.

Birdie: Red bikini, white coverup, black sparkly flip-flops. *Tiger Emoji*

Faith: You are exactly no help. *Eye Roll Emoji*

Birdie: You're welcome. *Kissy Face Emoji*

I tossed the phone down on my bed and grabbed the red bikini. Well, when in Rome, right? It wasn't like I would ever see them again after the trip. Who cared if they thought I was just a little too big to look perfect in a bikini? Who cared if my stomach bunched up more than I would like when I sat down?

Pre-divorce me would have cared. She would have freaked out at the idea of putting on a skimpy red two piece and going out in public. Gavin would have had a meltdown, too. But I was a new person now. I was sans douchebag ex-husband who knocked up his secretary while we were still married. And I didn't give two figs what sexy Cupid thought of my thighs.

I nodded my head once and flipped my hair over my shoulder. I caught a glimpse of my phone, which had a thumbs up emoji from Birdie, then I stalked towards the bathroom.

Vix

I watched Cupid run around the cabin we were sharing, like his backside was on fire.

Correction.

I watched Cupid run around the cabin like his backside was on fire, and there was no snow conveniently everywhere to fix the problem. I suppose that he could also put the ocean to use for such a function. But nevermind that, as from my vantage point, it did not look as if his asshole was actually burning.

Our buddy Blitz was a bit of a pyro and had lit all of us on fire at least once at some point or another. Usually without meaning to. He found lighting farts on fire especially entertaining. To say that Cupid had caught his backside on fire more than once would be an understatement.

Today, he merely seemed uncharacteristically panicked.

Cupid didn't panic. He more often than not made an inappropriate pun when faced with stress.

I picked my tablet back up and checked the weather report. Sunny and beautiful. It always was when we came to the resort. Almost like someone made sure of it. Then I flipped back to the mission brief I was trying to memorize before we had to report in on Christmas Eve for final prep. The Team might all think I was a bit of a brown noser, but who did they turn to when things went pear-shaped?

Yeah, me. That's right.

"So, who are we having lunch with again?" I tip the tablet forward against my chin so I can see Cupid exiting his room yet again, in a towel holding two different pairs of swim trunks.

My animal stiffened inside of me when I caught a whiff of something delicious. Cinnamon and vanilla. I wasn't unfamiliar with the scents. I had smelled them many a time together. But this faint hint caused my animal to stir, and the other animal in my shorts to awaken, despite the fact that I was looking at Cupid who was waving swim trunks at me. I love Cupid like a brother, but I had no interest in what he was hiding under that towel.

Side note: I've seen under that towel - which he usually skips - far more often than I would like to admit.

Cupid held up both pairs of trunks. "Which ones?"

"The blue ones," I said without looking, trying instead to identify where that scent was coming from.

"They're both blue, man." Cupid gave me an exasperated and mildly panicked look, which sat oddly on my old friend's face. Cupid was the jovial one. He always had a joke on his tongue, and let any perceived slight roll off his back, like a duck in water. This lunch date was clearly stirring him.

"The bluer blue one, then." I flick my hands at him, done with his shenanigans for the time. I had a mate to find. A mate that needed claiming. That was the scent. My mate.

Cupid dropped both arms to his side and huffed away. "God, you're such an asshole!" The slamming door solidified my concern that something was wrong with Cupid.

"Why is Cupid acting like a sixteen-year-old girl getting ready for her first date?" Dash dropped into the chair next to me, a beer bottle in his hand. I checked my watch, eleven am. Well, it was five o'clock somewhere, I presumed. I shouldn't judge, Dash only ever drank when we were on vacation, unlike some others on our team, who shall remain nameless.

"Apparently we are meeting his friend for lunch and he's in a tizzy because he can't decide which blue pair of swim trunks to wear." I put my tablet down, knowing I wouldn't get any more work done now that Dash was up. I had agreed to "have fun" for the day. This was in exchange for a weekend full of silence from the other two about my study habits.

"Cupid's gone sideways over a girl?" Dash set his bottle down and ran his hands over his face. "Fuck."

"My sentiments exactly."

AUTHORS NOTE: Thank you so much for reading my story! Have a Little Faith is a complete work, which I will be releasing one chapter a week. More next Sunday!