Authors: Trisha Grace
Mrs. Seymour wriggled her brows and nudged her hair with her hand.
“Mr. Seymour.”
Mr. Seymour stepped toward Justin and gave him a hug. “Hi Justin, should’ve told us you were coming. Come in.”
“Yes, come in, come in. Look at both of you. I’ll get you two some towels.” Mrs. Seymour headed into the house and disappeared up the stairs.
“I’m really sorry about the car, Justin.”
Mr. Seymour laughed throatily when Paige said that. Justin turned to Mr. Seymour with a raised brow.
Clearing his throat, Mr. Seymour explained, “She’s no confidence about driving up and down the slope without destroying something. Besides, it’s my fault. I was the one who put the car there after helping her unload her things. Forgive an old man, will you?”
No confidence?
She didn’t look old, but she must be at least 25. “A little rain won’t kill me.”
Mr. Seymour then asked about Travis, and he dutifully repeated the story.
“How are you doing?” Mr. Seymour asked.
“Good,” he answered while his eyes swept the room.
The sienna wooden panels on the floor were the same except that more of the corners were chipped away. The same burgundy leather couch sat in the living room, and the same antique TV was still on the old cabinet in front of the couch.
Everything was exactly how he’d remembered.
At least that was true for the things he noticed. His eyes didn’t complete the scanning of the room.
Once his eyes fell on Paige, he stopped looking anywhere else.
Paige stood with her hands in the back pockets. Her dark chocolate hair, wet from the rain, blended into black at the ends around her shoulders. Even after having her hair whipped by the wind and rain, she still looked stunning.
There was a glow about her. Maybe it was her fair skin that was creating the effect, but she wasn’t that pale.
She rubbed her hands together and smiled when she saw him looking at her. Again, she didn’t seem concerned by his presence. That, somehow, made him uneasy.
“Here you go.”
Reluctantly, he moved his eyes from Paige and turned to take the towel that Mrs. Seymour handed him. “Thanks.”
He didn’t understand what it was about Paige. Maybe it was her eyes, or the way she was smiling so warmly at everyone. No matter what it was, it attracted his attention.
Over the next few minutes, as Justin answered all the questions that Mr. and Mrs. Seymour had for him, his eyes continued to flicker toward Paige.
At the back of his mind, he couldn’t help wondering why a woman like her would move into a house with such a story behind it. The moment he had the chance to slip in a question, he immediately turned to Paige and asked, “So, what brought you to Pine and to the haunted house?”
She chuckled softly. “Is that what everyone calls it?”
“Yeah. It’s the town’s famous, or infamous, haunted house. You do know about the suicide.”
“Justin.” Mrs. Seymour shot him a warning glare.
Paige’s lips curled further. “Yes. I figured something was wrong when the owners were letting it go at such a low price. I asked and they told me.”
“And still you bought it.”
“I didn’t kill her, there’s no reason for her to hurt me.”
“So you think she’s still in the house.”
“Justin.” Mrs. Seymour narrowed her eyes and held his gaze.
“It’s all right,” she said to Mrs. Seymour, half chuckling. “I don’t believe she’s still in the house. I’m just saying that even if she is, there’s no reason for me to be afraid.”
He nodded, satisfied with the answer. “And what’s wrong with your driving skills?”
“I’m just used to taking the subway or taxi.”
He glanced over at Mrs. Seymour as he felt her staring at him, but he merely turned back to Paige and continued with his questions. “You’re from New York?”
Paige opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to get choked in her throat.
He frowned at her reaction. It wasn’t a personal detail that people would mind speaking of.
“She doesn’t like to talk about her past,” Mr. Seymour explained.
Justin returned his gaze to Paige.
Despite the small smile she kept displayed, her fingers played around with the ring on her right index finger.
He should let it go. He hardly knew her. He would only be taking a look around her house to see what she needed done, then pass the information back to Travis. He probably wouldn’t be seeing her after tonight anyway.
But his eyes remained fixated on Paige. He observe her while his mind mused over all the reasons that could’ve brought her here.
“Enough talking, eat. I’ll pack some for you kids to bring home, you bring some back to Travis, too.”
“Oh, Mrs. Seymour, there’s no need.”
“She’s not going to take no for an answer,” Justin said.
Paige pursed her lips, but nodded after a moment. “Okay, sure.”
Mr. Seymour moved over to the couch and switched on the TV. “Maybe the two of you should stay here for a while. The rain doesn’t look like it’s letting up.”
He didn’t really care. He wasn’t going to melt from the rain anyway.
Looking over at Paige, he found her staring ruefully at the TV screen, completely unaware of Mr. Seymour’s suggestion.
Curious, he turned back to the TV. Mr. Seymour had flipped to some Christian channel and there was some pastor preaching away. He didn’t bother to listen to what the preacher was saying.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re not going to hell.”
“Hmm?” Paige took her attention off the TV and onto him.
“These preachers are always telling people that everyone will be going to hell. Don’t need to take it personally.”
She broke into a grin. “You completely tuned out the pastor, didn’t you? He wasn’t talking about hell.”
“Here you go.” Mrs. Seymour came back out from the kitchen. “These two are the same, you two choose either one,” she said to Paige. “This is for Travis, there’s more for Amy.” Then, she handed all three bags over to him. “Do you kids want to stay here for a while longer? The rain is so heavy.”
“It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon,” Paige commented as she stared out at the rain.
His thoughts exactly. The sound of thunder was rolling by every couple of minutes, and the rain only seemed to get heavier as the clock ticked.
But women tended to hate getting caught in the rain.
Paige swiveled back toward him. “I’m fine with it if you are.”
Justin’s brows flickered up before he shrugged. “Let’s go then.”
Paige stepped into the house and turned back to face Justin as he closed the umbrella and propped it against the wall. She saw how wet he was as he casually brushed the water from his arm and ran his hand through his hair.
Only his hair seemed to have escaped the rain, and under the lights, she could see the auburn in his medium brown hair. His eyes shared the same shade of brown. The combination of both giving him a rough, masculine edge.
She had been nervous about the sudden change of person helping her with the house, but the Seymours clearly knew Justin well. Once she had hung up the phone, Mrs. Seymour picked up one of the photo frames near the dining table and pointed to the young boy in the picture; the same boy in so many of their photos.
“Why did you leave your lights on when you’re not home?”
“I don’t like coming back to a dark house,” she answered without turning to him.
“I thought you’re not afraid of ghosts.”
“I’m not. I just don’t like the darkness.”
“There must be something in the dark that you’re afraid of. Kids have their boogeyman. What’s yours?”
“Do you like to psycho-analyze everyone you meet?”
“Do you evade every question people ask?”
She narrowed her eyes at him and retorted, “Are you trying to pick a fight with me so that you can get out of fixing this house?”
Justin grinned, looking around. “I’ve been inside here so many times, no more than fifteen minutes each time, I’m sure. Travis and I used to dare each other to come in here. Many kids do that, too. Nothing much to do in a small town.”
“So the graffitis were done by the kids, too? I was worried there would be squatters or homeless people coming by.”
“Have you fixed the locks to your doors and windows?”
“Yeah, fixed it up yesterday.”
“Where do you want this?” Justin asked, waving the bag of muffins. “You just got here?”
She took the bag from him and headed into the kitchen, placing the muffins into the fridge. “Been here a couple of times to view the house, settle the paperwork and all,” she said, returning to the living room.
She found Justin down on one knee, his eyes studying the floorings.
“But I just moved in today, was staying at a hotel in Cheyenne.”
He nodded and stood, brushing off the dust on his jeans. “When is your furniture getting here?”
“I’ll be getting new ones, when the renovation is done.”
“Okay,” he said. “You should still get an alarm. If squatters or homeless people came by before, there’s a chance they’ll come back.”
“Perfect,” she mumbled.
“But you’ve already repainted the exterior, I’m sure they’ll know someone is living in the house now.”
She smiled, grateful he was trying to make her feel better.
“Why don’t you stay with the Seymours’ first? I can get the security system up for you tomorrow.”
“I thought you’re only here to see what I needed done and then get back to Travis. Don’t you need to ask him first?”
A drop of water fell from his hair, landing onto the floor.
“I should get you a towel.” She jogged up the stairs, got a clean towel from her luggage, and headed back down. “Here you go.”
“I’m sure Travis will want to stay with Amy for a few days, I can get some work started and let him takeover when he’s ready.”
“Yeah, that’ll be great.
But
I do need a quotation first, I have a budget.”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I’ll take a look around and give you the quotation. Travis won’t mind.”
“All right. Where should we start? Kitchen? Bathroom?”
“Security system first, bathroom, then bedroom. That way, you’ll have a proper place to rest and you can start unpacking.”
“I’ll show you the bathroom,” she said, going back up the stairs. “The security system, we don’t have to get top of the line thing, right?” She still remembered how much she paid for her security system back in New York.
Money that was well wasted.
“We’ll get those DIY ones, won’t cost too much.”
“Great.”
“Why are you getting new furniture if you’re on a budget? What’s wrong with your current ones?”
She turned her face away from him as her fingers curled into a loose fist, allowing her thumb to play with the ring on her index finger. “I can’t bring them over.”
“Why not? You need someone to help you move? I know a guy.”
“No, it isn’t that.” She sighed and shook her head. “Forget it. They are as good as gone.”
“Ex-boyfriend? I’ve got a guy for that, too.”
She grinned and said, “I’ll remember that.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. She used to get frustrated whenever people spoke to her that way. Now, such comments never failed to bring up a fond memory.
Justin hung the towel over his shoulders and grinned at her lighthearted chuckle. “What’s so funny?” he asked, taking a scan of the two bedrooms as they went past them.
He blinked when he saw the sole luggage lying open in the bigger bedroom. There were black colored bags of various sizes within the luggage, each placed neatly, with the zips all facing one direction. There wasn’t a single piece of loose clothing tucked in a corner or anything strewn over it.
Bags within a bag.
He thought he was neat, but she’d probably beat him hands down.
But that, to him, wasn’t the strangest part of the picture.
“Is this all you brought?” He never had a relationship that lasted long enough for him to bring a woman along to a new place where he would work for months, but he knew women usually travel with more than one luggage, especially if they were intending to stay for a while.
“Yeah,” she said, widening her strides as she moved further down toward another door.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was trying to deter any further questions regarding the subject.
She truly didn’t like to speak about her past.
Usually, he would shrug and move on. But with her, it fueled his interest. Any questions regarding her past got her nervous. She seemed bent on keeping it a secret.
Justin gave her another scan. She looked like the prim and proper sort of woman who never did anything wrong in her life.
What could’ve made her leave everything behind and come all the way out to Pine?
“The bathroom.” Paige pushed open the new copper colored wood stained door and stepped aside.
His eyes widened.
The pink tiles had faded to a pale light shade. The previous owners had cleaned up the house, but the sink, the bathtub, and the toilet were still coated with a layer of grim. Cracks, both fine and deep black lines, could be seen in the bathtub as well.
“How do you want to fix the bathroom?”
“Complete revamp. I want to change the tiles, dark gray for the floors, and I think I’ll repaint the walls white. The sink and all have to be changed.”
Justin nodded. “I suggest you tile the walls around the bathtub, at least the bottom half. It’ll last longer than paint would with all the water.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“White tiles?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“It’ll probably take a week, and it’ll be rather dusty. I’ll remove the tiles and waterproof it before retiling.”
“It’s all right, I’ll stay in the next room until you’re done.”
“Why not stay with the Seymours for a few days? I know they won’t mind.”