Just a Kiss (16 page)

R
iley tried to take a little nap. Who knew how long it would be before Zac got freed up. Besides, sleep beat the heck out of dwelling on Paige and where she might be right now. What she might be doing.

He beat his head against the headrest. Once. Twice. The image of her at the Sea Room wouldn't dislodge. Of Dylan's hand on hers. Of the two of them leaning toward each other.

The rain grew louder, beating the truck for all it was worth. Lightning flashed over the bay, followed by a rumble of thunder. He closed his eyes again and resolutely kicked Dylan out of his head, replacing the image of them at the table with one of him and Paige. Out on the community center deck, a sultry country tune playing in the background. Her eyes, lost and lonely, searching his like he was her last hope.

Her small hand sliding up his arm as he kissed her, the sensation of her response. Yes, her response. She'd kissed him back. He couldn't let that little detail get lost in the mire of disillusionment. Maybe she'd been lonely. Maybe her desperation made her a little vulnerable, but she'd responded to him.

The thought warmed him from the inside out. Made his skin
tingle with awareness. Maybe it was hopeless, maybe he was only tormenting himself. But it was his memory. The only one he had, and he was going to cling to it as if it were a life preserver.

A pounding on the window made him jump. He hadn't even heard Zac pull up.

Riley flung open his door. But it wasn't Zac standing in the pouring rain. It was Paige.

“What are you doing here?” He pulled her in out of the rain, grabbing the door and pulling it shut as he scrambled toward the passenger seat. His leg failed to cooperate, and he landed on his elbow.

Paige fell against him, breathing hard, her wet hair dripping onto his chest and shoulder. “Lucy called.”

“She was supposed to send Zac.”

His upper body had made the journey to the passenger seat, his lower body, not so much. He grew aware of the way she was pressed up against the length of his side. Her slight weight, the delicious warmth of her.

Her sweet, flowery smell wove around him like a spell.

As if becoming aware of their intimate position, she stilled.

The rain drummed steadily on the roof, and a crash of thunder sounded nearby. He cursed the darkness, which left her thoughts a mystery. What he'd give to read those blue eyes right now. See if a frown puckered her brow or if her chin dimpled in thought.

“Well . . .” Her voice was soft and thready. “It's me.”

She didn't seem in a big hurry to put space between them. Right then a shiver passed through her. The coolness?

He tried to tell himself it meant nothing. But he'd wanted her for so long, and here she was, like a Christmas morning wish. So close. So warm. So real. Her lips were mere inches from his. Their
warm breaths fogged together, and he got lost in the want swirling inside of him.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “It's you.”
Always you.

He leaned in until their lips touched. The briefest of kisses. A test. His heart sang when she responded. It kicked against his ribs, urging him on. He went back for another taste. Her lips were so soft. Pliant. Delicious. He palmed her face, still damp from the rain, and deepened the kiss.

Her hand slid to the back of his neck, cool against the heat pooling there. Her fingers brushed through the hair at his nape, awakening every cell. She turned into him, resting her weight more firmly against his side.

The feel of her against him kindled a fire inside. A feeling that sent a pleasant jolt of electricity to his brain.

She's kissing you. She wants you.

Was he really going to do this? What about all his noble reasons? What about her deserving someone better? Someone whole? Even now, his leg was trapped under her. Useless.

He was useless.

But the arguments seemed futile in the wake of her ready response. He was heady with it. The pull of want was like a riptide, towing, tugging at him, until he was helpless against it.

He got lost in her for a long, blissful minute. The rest of the world faded to black. Just the two of them in this cozy, perfect moment.

But this was Paige, his mind argued. What was he doing, rushing headlong into this like a fool? He couldn't do that. Not with Paige. There was too much at stake. Years of friendship. And then there was Dylan. She was with him only a while ago, looking pretty caught up. Maybe kissing him.

He had to think. He had to—

“Wait . . . ,” he said against her lips. One more brush. And one more to go, just a little more . . .

Callahan.

He gathered the fortitude to break the kiss. “Wait.” His breath was ragged. “Wait. Slow down. Let's slow down.”

He fell back against the seat, taking her with him. Holding her head tight to his chest where his heart was setting new records for speed. Man, what she did to him. He took a deep breath, two. Felt her catching her breath as well. He threaded his fingers into her hair, cupping her head, unwilling to let her go. Did he mean that physically and literally? He couldn't think past the storm of emotions surging in him.

The rain had lessened in strength. The delicate pattering joined the seductive symphony of their breaths, their heartbeats. Beautiful, wonderful music. He could stay like this forever.

She wiggled, finding a more comfortable fit.

“You're killing me, woman,” he grated out. He held her tight, his breaths gradually quieting. His heart rate slowing.

His good leg had fallen asleep. He was pretty sure he couldn't move even if he tried. And he had no interest in trying at the moment.

What was he going to do? They'd crossed a line. They'd taken a huge leap to the other side. And he liked it here. It was perfect. Like a dream. How could he give her up after having her in his arms? After she'd kissed him like that? He dug his fingers into her hair, tightening his hold on her.
Mine.

“Riley?”

Her unsteady whisper awoke all his protective instincts. “Yeah, honey.”

She paused for a long moment. Her fingers clenching and unclenching at the sides of his shirt. “Don't you dare say that was just a kiss.”

The unexpectedness of her comment, the tenacity in her voice, caught him off guard. A chuckle rose in his chest before he could squash it.

She lifted her head, and he didn't have to see her to know she was glaring at him in the darkness. “It's not funny.”

He found the curve of her cheek, hoping she couldn't see the smile he couldn't seem to extinguish. “I know it's not.”

“So what . . . ?” She sat up more, an elbow digging into his ribs. “What are we going to do? What about Roxy?”

“What about her?”

“Do you like her?”

“I don't give a fig about Roxy Franke. But what about you? What about Dylan?”

“Dylan? We're just friends. I only bid on him to rescue him from Millie.”

Her words flooded him with relief.

“So . . . what do you want to do?” she asked. “About this, about us?”

He heard a whisper of fear in the bold question. Was she afraid of moving forward? Or afraid they couldn't go back?

“I mean, we just
kissed
, Riley.
Really
kissed.”

For some reason her tone, so sober, tickled him. “I'm aware.”

She stiffened, edging away. “Well, I'm glad you find all this so amusing.”

He tightened his hold, preventing her escape. “Hey . . . I'm not amused. I'm . . .” There was only one word for it, and it came out on a contented sigh. “Happy.”

A long moment passed. “You are?” she asked finally. “Really?”

What the heck. He'd gone this far, might as well go for broke. He slid his fingers along the curve of her cheek, relishing the softness of her skin.

“I haven't felt so happy in . . . I can't even remember.”

She took a moment, as if digesting this bit of information. “So . . . this isn't weird for you?”

“Is it weird for you?”

“It should be, I guess. But it isn't. Not at all.”

He smiled. “Same here.”

“So . . . what do you want to do?”

He didn't even have to think about it. “Kiss you again.”

There were no arguments as he leaned forward and captured her lips. He came up on his elbow, cradling her face with his other hand. He couldn't believe this was happening. It was surreal. Paige wanted him the way he wanted her. The way he'd dreamed about for years.

Her arms roped around his waist, her fingers moving up the planes of his back. Her mouth parted on a breath, and he took full advantage. He'd lost control of his heart rate again, and he was going to lose control of other things, too, if he wasn't careful. And he needed to be careful.

He needed to cool things off. Move slowly.

Reluctantly he eased from the deeper kiss with a few light, slow brushes on her delectable lips. Then he put a few inches of space between them.

“I have a confession to make,” she whispered into the gap. “I-I've been wanting this for a while. Like, before the wedding. For weeks.”

Weeks?
Try years. Another chuckle caught in his chest.

“Are you laughing at me again?” She shifted.

Pain shot down his stump into a calf that wasn't even there. Stupid phantom pain. “Let's save that for later,” he squeezed out.

“Your leg. I'm hurting you.” She wiggled upright, scooching off him, against the door.

He used his arms to pull himself upright, gritting his teeth against the pain. It hurt, but it couldn't come close to dulling the joy in his heart. Paige wanted him. He wasn't going to second-guess himself this time or play the martyr. He couldn't bring himself to be that noble in the face of her confession.

“What's wrong? Are you okay?”

“Nothing. My calf's just hurting a little, that's all.”

“Let me rub it.”

“No, you can't—”

“Stop being so stubborn.” She reached down and massaged the only calf he had. “Here? Is that the right spot?”

He gritted his teeth. “Wrong leg, Paige.”

Her fingers stilled. He felt her eyes burning into his as the meaning settled over her. She settled slowly back against the door. “Oh.”

The quiet tone of her voice, so solemn, struck his funny bone, and he chuckled. Didn't even bother to hold it back this time. He didn't know what was wrong with him tonight, but he didn't want to fix it.

“Stop laughing,” she said, but this time he heard the smile in her voice.

“I can't help it. You sound so tragic.” Saying it out loud only made him laugh harder. And it felt so good.
He
felt so good.

She elbowed him in the gut. “Riley Callahan, it's not funny.” But she was laughing too.

He pulled her into a hug and let the laughter settle around them like a warm blanket. He buried his nose in the fragrant dampness of her hair. She smelled so good. So Paige.

And a wave of pure gratitude filled him. He closed his eyes and said a prayer that went
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You . . .

“So . . . ,” she said a while later. “What are we going to do?” Her words were muffled against his chest. “Are we going to do this? Are we going to see where it goes?”

Even though he heard the sweet longing in her voice, he hadn't forgotten all the reasons this was a bad idea. He'd been engraving them on his heart for three months. He knew he should say no. Knew it was the right thing to do. The right thing for Paige.

She looked up at him in the quiet, eyes searching. “Riley?” Her voice quavered.

And God help him, he couldn't do it. Not when she wanted him. Not when he'd dreamed of this moment for years. He wasn't that strong.

He kissed the top of her head, taking an extra moment to breathe her in. “Let's go home.”

She leaned back but didn't release him. “What does that mean? You're supposed to leave in two weeks and—”

The patter of rain filled the silence. Lightning flashed in the sky, giving him a brief glimpse of her face, her eyes. A flicker of fear, a dash of hope. And then all was dark again as thunder rumbled in the distance.

“And what?” he asked.

“I don't want you to go,” she whispered.

He cupped her face. He wasn't leaving her now. No way. Nohow.

He whispered into the dark, “I'm not going anywhere, Warren.”

T
he tantalizing smells of garlic and oregano floated through the Callahan kitchen, making Paige's mouth water. She'd skipped breakfast this morning. Had overslept, actually, after lying awake half the night with a giddy smile on her face.

The guys had driven out to Shadow Bay after church to jump the truck and bring it back. Micah had gone home from church with his grandpa. That left the girls in the kitchen, getting the food on the table.

There was a tug on her hand, and then she was being dragged from the kitchen by Lucy. Around the corner and into the deserted hallway they went.

“Okay, okay,” Paige said, forcefully reclaiming her hand. “I think you dislocated my arm.”

“Sorry.” Lucy turned at the dead end by the bathroom. “All right now, talk.”

“What do you mean?” She couldn't help but have a little fun. Lucy was too easy.

The woman gawked at her. “What do you mean, what do I
mean?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He was holding your hand in church.”

Paige tried for innocence. “Who?”

Lucy gave her a look.

Paige gave up, her ever-present smile giving way. “All right. We talked last night when I went to pick him up.”

Lucy gave a little golf clap. “It worked!”

“Don't get all smug,” Paige conceded with a shrug. “But thank you.”

“Tell me everything. What happened, what did he say, what did you say?”

She lifted a brow at Lucy's enthusiasm. “Hmm. There wasn't a whole lot of talking actually.”

Lucy's eyes widened as she waited expectantly. “And . . .”

Paige let her hang a minute. “And . . . that's all I'm going to say about that.”

Lucy made a face. “Cruel, cruel girl.”

Twenty minutes later they were seated around the big table, Riley at her side. Their new relationship was the elephant in the room. As if by agreement nobody mentioned the bachelor dates of the night before, and surely no one brought up Sheriff Colton and his Friday night date with Margaret LeFebvre. Charlotte Dupree had spotted them at a window table at The Wharf. And there were rumors that the two had gone bird-watching—one of Margaret's hobbies—on Saturday at Otter Cove.

Paige tried to follow the small talk through dinner and afterward as everyone still sat around the table, full and content. The Roadhouse's new microphone system, the upcoming fall season for the farm, a grade school Thanksgiving program Eden had agreed to head up at church.

Riley set his arm around Paige's chair, and she lost track of the conversation altogether. His warm hand rested on her shoulder. And he began tracing little circles on her bare arm.

“So when's the big move?” Beau's question caught her attention.

Riley's eyes met hers, then he looked away. “Ah, looks like I'm not moving after all. I was going to let you know. I just . . . recently changed my mind.”

There were murmurs of relief all around the table. Secret little smiles that told Paige they weren't fooling anyone. Not that they were trying to. There was something to be said for easing into this. They were already close. It seemed unnatural to make some kind of grand announcement.

Miss Trudy cleared her throat. “In that case, young man, I think it might be time you found a place of your own.”

Riley's lips twitched. “Yes, ma'am.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Lucy jumped up. “I'll get it.”

Paige's eyes slid to Riley's, and they shared a private smile that warmed her skin. His eyes lingered on hers even as the conversation carried on.

A moment later there was a shuffling behind them.

Sheriff Colton stood on the threshold of the dining room, hat in his hands. “Trudy, might I have a word?”

Miss Trudy's spine lengthened a full two inches. “We're in the middle of dinner. I'm afraid it'll have to wait.”

His eyes shifted over the table, filled with empty plates and wadded napkins. “All due respect, ma'am, looks like you might be finished.”

She drilled him with a look. “All due respect, you were not invited over here, Danny Colton.”

“Oh boy,” Zac muttered.

The sheriff twisted the brim of his hat. “Well, you wouldn't talk to me at church, and you won't answer your phone.”

“A man might take that as a hint.”

The sheriff's face grew pink, and his poor hat was about crushed. “I aim to say my piece, Trudy. If you want me to say it in front of your family, that's what I'll do.”

“An ultimatum? That's a fine way to treat a lady.”

“You don't give me much choice.”

They stared each other down for ten long, painful seconds.

Finally Miss Trudy's chair squawked as she pushed it back. “Fine. I'll give you three minutes.”

“You'll give me as long as it takes to say what I've come to say.” The sheriff pressed his lips together, making his red mustache twitch. The red flush suffused his face.

The table was midnight quiet as Miss Trudy rounded it, making a wide berth around the sheriff in the doorway. The front screen door squeaked open, and a moment later the front door closed.

Their voices could be heard, but they were too quiet to make out anything other than a word here and there.

The family sat around the table, their gazes flickering off one another's.

Eden drained the last of her lemonade. “We shouldn't eavesdrop.”

“Definitely not,” Lucy said.

But nobody got up to clear the table. Nobody started a conversation.

Paige listened discreetly as she wiped her mouth and shifted closer to Riley. She made out a few innocuous phrases, all spoken by Miss Trudy.

It doesn't matter.

Well, really.

Sure it was.

“She's pretty steamed about his date with Ms. LeFebvre,” Eden said quietly. “Not that she'd ever admit it.”

“She was steamed way before that,” Riley said.

“With good reason,” Paige added.

“What do you mean?” Eden asked.

Paige bit her lip. She'd forgotten for a second that the newlyweds didn't know what the rest of them had overheard at the reception. They'd been busy being bride and groom, then gone on their honeymoon.

“I guess we never told you guys,” Zac said.

“Told us what?” Beau asked.

Riley filled them in on the argument between the sheriff and Miss Trudy. “And then she let the big one fly—turns out she was pregnant when Danny left her for the NBA.”

Eden gaped.

“She was pregnant with Danny's baby when she married Uncle Tom?” Beau asked.

“Got married
because
she was pregnant,” Zac said.

“And she never told Danny?” Eden asked.

“Apparently not,” Lucy said. “I talked to her after she ran off at the reception. She didn't say why she never told him. Just that she lost the baby.”

“How terribly sad,” Eden said. “No wonder she's been so angry with him.”

Beau shifted in his seat. “How do you think Danny feels about now, knowing she kept that from him?”

“That's a lot of water under the bridge,” Eden said.

“I did not go bird-watching with that woman!” The sheriff's voice carried through the walls.

“Says you!”

“Well,
I'm
not the one keeping secrets, now, am I!”

A long moment of silence followed, into which Zac again muttered, “Oh boy.”

Beau sat back in his chair. “Here we go again.”

“It's like the Fourth of July with those two.”

“Shhhh!” Eden and Lucy said.

Paige listened intently, but there was no more talking. A moment later the front door opened. Slammed shut. Miss Trudy's footsteps thudded across the living room and up the steps. Down the hall. Another door slammed.

Outside, the sheriff's car started up, and the hum of its engine faded as it went down the long drive.

“Well,” Lucy said. “I guess that didn't go so well.”

Riley and Paige spent a quiet Sunday afternoon at home. After the late dinner they weren't hungry enough for supper, so they headed to the ice cream shop instead. It was near closing time, and they had the patio all to themselves.

Paige was lured into a waffle cone by the sweet, delicious aroma that flooded the shop. She'd taken down half the cone by the time the sun had sunk over the hills.

They talked about Miss Trudy and the sheriff, about the church service this morning, and about Riley's upcoming appointment with his prosthetist. He needed another adjustment.

Riley shoved the last bit of his cone into his mouth and settled
back in the wrought iron chair, his shoulder brushing hers. “I think my aunt's right about me moving out.”

Hearing the serious tone of his voice, she met his gaze.

“I don't want to mess this up by moving too quickly. I want to date you properly, and I can't do that from under the same roof.”

Something inside Paige went all warm and fuzzy. It wasn't like they needed to get to know each other. But they did need to find their footing in this new relationship. Ease into it.

“I agree. Let's do this right.”

Riley had a lot to think about. A lot of decisions to make. He needed a place to stay and another job. She didn't want to press him on that subject though. His former occupation was a sore spot, and she didn't want to bring him down.

She took a little bite of her cone, chewing thoughtfully. “We should scour the paper when we get home. Find you an apartment close by.”

“And a job. I heard there was an opening at the lobster co-op. I think I'll apply, since you won't need me at the shelter much longer.”

“That's great.”

“It might take a while to find an apartment, though. I think I might ask Beau about moving into the farmhouse temporarily.” His eyes flickered to hers. “Like tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

“Don't take it the wrong way. I just—” He gave her a long look that heated up with each passing second. “I'm only a man, Paige, and having you nearby is”—his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed—“difficult.”

She followed the long stubbly column up to his sharp jawline and farther to his lowered eyes. His long lashes were a fringe
against his skin. When he lifted them, the longing there made her insides melt. Not physical longing. At least, not
just
that.

“This is too important to rush,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “I don't want to do anything to ruin what we have.”

“I get it. We shouldn't rush things. This is new.”

His chest expanded on a long inhale, then he blew out his breath. “You said last night you've been feeling this way for weeks.”

She was relieved to have it out on the table, but her cheeks still flushed. “I have. It seems like longer though. It's been hard. I was afraid you'd think I'd lost my marbles. Shoot,
I
was afraid I'd lost my marbles.”

“The thing is, Paige . . . it's been longer than weeks for me.” His eyes pierced hers. His look was intense. “Longer than months.”

Paige's heart beat up into her throat. “How—how long? Like since you've been home?”

He smirked. “Remember that summer you came home from camp?”

“Which time?” she asked sarcastically.

“We were seventeen. We met out on the pier. You had your toenails painted.”

Her heart gave a little tug. “You remember my toenails?”

“They were pink. I took one look at you, and everything was different somehow. I didn't see my best buddy anymore. I saw a beautiful young lady, and I wanted to kiss you.”

Her skin tingled with awareness. “I never—You never—How can you have—” He'd never said a word. Never given a clue. Memories played out in her mind. Hours spent shooting hoops, walking the school halls, goofing off by the water's edge. She'd had boyfriends and crushes, and she'd told him about every one of them. The realization made her cringe.

And then her mind spun forward into adulthood, when she'd dated his brother. Her heart gave a little squeeze. “Beau.”

His lips twisted, and his eyes hinted at the pain she'd caused. “Not my favorite period of time.”

“Oh, Riley.”

He put his arm around her, drawing her into his side. “It's okay.”

But it wasn't. After watching him with Roxy, she had an inkling how it must've felt. All the Sunday dinners, the snowmobile treks, the Roadhouse gatherings. When Beau had broken up with her, Riley was the one who'd consoled her. He'd held her and kissed her forehead while she'd blubbered on and on about his brother.

How could she have been so clueless? Her heart ached for him. “Did Beau know?”

“Of course not. He still doesn't.”

If it had been her, she wouldn't have been able to stand it. She would've . . . moved away or something. Gone somewhere, anywhere—

Her eyes darted to his as a terrible thought occurred. “That's why you left. Why you enlisted.”

She saw the flare of admission in his eyes, and something inside her crumbled. It was why he'd traveled thousands of miles from home, why he'd gotten blasted by an IED.

Why he'd lost his leg.

The truth tore at her heart. Her chest tightened painfully. Her lungs malfunctioned. She covered her mouth, suddenly unable to breathe.

“Hey . . . don't.”

“It's my fault,” she said through her hand.

He grabbed her arm, pulled her hand away from her mouth, and held on to it. “
No.
No, Paige. It was my decision to enlist. You didn't even know what I was feeling. You can't take that on.”

But it felt like hers. The weight of it was unbearable. “I'm so sorry. About Beau. About everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing. Understand? I didn't tell you to make you feel bad. I just need you to understand. I know you felt . . . abandoned when I left. You were angry.”