Just a Kiss (17 page)

“I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't fair.”

“Perfectly understandable given what you've been through. I should've talked to you about enlisting. I'm sorry I didn't. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you.”

“It's okay. I understand. Especially now.”

“I just—Paige, I need you to know how important this is to me. I've wanted this—wanted you—a long time. This means a lot to me. I don't take it lightly.”

“I get it,” she said. “I do.” Now more than ever.

He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, smiling around them. “Having you, like this . . .” He squeezed her hand as their eyes met and clung for a long, poignant moment. “It was worth it all.”

Her eyes teared up, making Riley's face go blurry, even as she tried to blink them away. Her lower lip trembled.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “That's the second time I've made you cry.”

“They're happy tears.”

He brushed her lip with his thumb, and she tasted the saltiness of her own tears. Then he replaced his thumb with his lips, keeping it brief and sweet. And oh, so perfect.

When he drew away his green eyes melded with hers. “I like it better when you smile.”

R
iley moved forward for a layup, testing his balance. He sank the ball, but his movements were less agile than he'd like. He caught the ball and tossed it to Paige.

“Go easy on me,” she said. The ball smacked the pavement as she dribbled. “I haven't played in forever.”

They both knew who was taking it easy here. He'd asked her to shoot hoops with him on the community center's outdoor court. He needed to challenge himself. He wanted to do more than walk with a steady gait and climb stairs. He wanted to move like he used to, fluid and fast. Or at least as close to that as he could get.

He'd almost called this off. He had a shooting, burning pain in his lower back recently that spread up to his shoulders. He needed to get in to see his prosthetist pronto.

The evening temperature was mild, the sun hiding behind clouds. There was a nice breeze coming in off the harbor, the air holding that familiar tang of salt and seaweed he loved so much.

Paige put up a shot. It bounced off the rim straight into his hands. “See, what'd I say?”

“You never were good at free throws.”

She shot him a look, somewhat mollified when he winked at her.

“So how was work today?” He'd spent the past couple days training Paige's new assistant, Molly. She'd been able to start a week earlier than promised, and today was her first day flying solo.

“She did great. She has such a nice, sunny disposition.”

“You saying I didn't?”

“Let's just say there've been a few thunderclouds.”

He banked a shot. “Fair enough.”

He'd moved back into the farmhouse on Monday. He'd found an affordable apartment near the library, but it wasn't available until next month.

“How's the job search going?” Paige asked.

That was a bit of good news. “I got the job at the co-op. I start Monday.”

Paige held the ball. “That's great! Why didn't you tell me?”

“I just did. They only called a couple hours ago.”

The co-op was a group of local fishermen who made fresh lobsters available direct to the consumer. They needed someone in the office full time.

“That's right up your alley.”

He'd rather be out on a boat hauling in lobsters, but whatever. He pushed the thought away, determined to improve his outlook. And along those lines . . .

“I've been thinking about adopting that boxer at the shelter, Bishop. I kinda miss the little mutt.”

Paige's face broke out in a smile. “I knew it! I knew the two of you were meant to be.”

“Don't get all cocky on me.”

“Let's go get him when we're done here. We can run to Ellsworth and get some supplies. It's okay with the family?”

“Yep.”

“Yay!” Paige went for a three-pointer and gave him a saucy smile when she sank it, all net.

He retrieved the ball and dribbled toward her.

“Ready for a little one-on-one?”

“Sounds good.”

The idea wasn't to win, but to help him find his footing—literally. Paige understood that and kept to his pace. It was depressing to realize she could so easily school him if she were trying. Even so, fifteen minutes later, he was sucking wind and dripping with sweat.

A few other guys had begun a game on the other end of the court, their calls and comments carrying downwind.

The game got more intense as he and Paige eased into it, found a level that was challenging yet still doable for him. His leg was hurting like a big dog, but he wasn't ready to quit just yet. He had to push himself if he was ever going to get better at this. And he was going to get better.

He dribbled toward the basket. Paige waited ahead, knees bent, arms out, looking way too pretty with her long blond ponytail and flushed cheeks.

“So when are you going to let me take you out on a date?” he said, making a slow approach.

“You trying to distract me, Callahan?”

“Is it working?”

“Nope.” She swatted and missed.

“Ah-ah-ah. Working better than you thought.”

Having the height advantage, he stopped and went for a jump shot, but it bounced off the rim.

Paige retrieved the ball and took it out. “You're doing great, Riley. I'm impressed.”

“I wasn't kidding,” he said, turning the subject back to them. “Let's do a real date.”

“Okay.” Paige dribbled toward him, her eyes smiling. Happy.

Man, he loved her. Those sparkling blue eyes, that little pointed chin, those kiss-me lips. He already missed living under the same roof. Seeing her sexy, tousled hair first thing in the morning, hearing her hum as the coffee brewed.

Something shifted in her eyes. She held the ball and took a few steps toward him.

“Travel,” he said as she neared.

“Time-out.” She pushed up on her toes and gave him a kiss. Soft and sweet. And over much too quick. But enough to jack his heart rate even more.

“What was that for?”

She shrugged, stepping back, dribbling, smiling. “Felt like it.”

“By all means feel free whenever the mood strikes.”

“I will.” She dribbled forward, a flirty glint in her eyes.

He swatted and missed. Their eyes mingled, danced.

“Nice try.” She faked left, then right.

He kept pace.

She spun away, but he was there when she returned.

“Impressive,” she said. She was breathing hard, and he was glad to see he wasn't the only one winded.

She pivoted away, then toward the basket. He followed. His feet got tangled up in the move. She darted past him, putting up a shot.

But he was going down. He hit the pavement hard with his hip. A pain shot up his leg as he rolled, and his prosthetic came off, clattering a few feet away.

“Riley!”

“I'm fine,” he said automatically. Stupid leg. His stump ached from overuse, his hip from the fall. But those injuries paled next to the bruise to his pride.

He sat up and brushed the grit from his hands. Heat flushed his face, and his breath hitched.

“Are you hurt?”

“I said I'm fine.” His prosthesis was too far to reach, short of crawling over to it. He sat there, helpless as a baby.

Paige grabbed his prosthesis and walked it over. She towered over him.

He snatched it from her hands and went through the motions of donning it. He was breathing hard and aware of the stillness at the other end of the court. Great. An audience.

She squatted down, said nothing as he adjusted the sleeve.

“You're just overtired,” she said when he was finished. “I shouldn't have been playing so hard.”

“Stop blaming yourself for everything.” It came out harsher than he intended.

He braced himself on the pavement and pushed to his feet, testing his body for pain. His stump was tender, his hip probably bruised, but nothing serious. He was going to hurt tomorrow though.

Paige had gone quiet, and his eyes flitted to hers. Emotion tightened the corners of her eyes. Those emotive blue eyes, filled with sadness and worry and all the things he'd never wanted to put there.

Guilt seeped in. It was just a stupid leg. What was wrong with him? He ran a hand over his face. “Man. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you.”

Her chin dimpled. “It's okay.”

“No, it's not.” He reached for her, pulled her into his chest, and sighed hard. The guys on the other end of the court had resumed their game as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just lost his dignity right in front of his girl. But none of that mattered. Not really. It didn't change the way she felt about him. He knew it in his head. His heart was another matter.

He tightened his arms around her. “Less than a week, and I'm already a lousy boyfriend.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “I'll be lousy sometimes, too, I promise. I'll forgive you if you forgive me.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Deal.”

She leaned back, and their eyes aligned. He saw so much there. Things he'd longed for when he was thousands of miles away. When Paige was no more than a distant voice across the phone, a faded picture in his pocket, a wispy vision in his dreams.

“It's going to be okay, Riley. You'll see.”

Sometimes it was hard to believe that might be true. But hearing it from Paige, seeing the promise in her eyes, made him want to believe it more than ever before.

“I'm sure you're right.”

“Alma Walker's here to see you,” Molly said from the doorway of the kennel.

Paige gave the hound dog a final pat and stood. “Thanks, Molly.”

She followed the girl down the hall and into the lobby.

Mrs. Walker waited. Her frail figure was always draped in
subdued fabrics, and her silver hair was carefully coiffed in what she'd once heard a teenager call a “granny fro.” You'd never know it to look at her, but she was probably sitting on millions from her family's maple syrup business.

“Mrs. Walker, it's so nice to see you,” Paige said, raising her voice a bit.

“I was out for a tea with my daughter and thought I'd swing by with that check I promised you.”

Most of the shelter's donors used automatic withdrawals, but Mrs. Walker didn't trust electronic transactions.

Paige took the check she extended. “I can't tell you how much your support means.”

“Well, you know my Winifred was a shelter pup. She's lost her sight in one eye and has hip dysplasia now. I'm afraid she's falling apart as fast as I am!”

“Oh, you're far younger than your age, Mrs. Walker. It's all that charity work you do.”

“Well, I try, but age just creeps up on you. But what would you know about that, young thing like you are?”

“Have you met my new assistant, Molly?”

She introduced the two, and a few minutes later they said good-bye. Molly left early for a doctor appointment, and Paige went to clear her desk.

Riley had started his new position at the co-op three days ago. He'd seemed preoccupied when she'd gone over to the farmhouse the night before, though he said the job was going well. There was always a learning curve. He was probably just a little overwhelmed. Bishop seemed to have settled in well. The boxer never left Riley's side the whole time she was there, and there was a new sparkle in the dog's eyes.

She started clearing off her desk, stacking papers and replacing files. All the donors who had promised support had come through except for one. But at two hundred fifty a month, the ongoing donation was a substantial one. She was counting on it to pay her bills.

She wondered if she should give Mr. and Mrs. Gillespie a call and remind them she still needed their credit card number.

Before she could act on the thought, the phone rang. Paige reached for it, hoping it wasn't Mrs. Pritchard again. Paige had gone to her house that morning to capture a critter in her attic, but when she'd arrived there were no signs of wildlife. She had a feeling the elderly woman was only lonely. Paige determined to stop over one day next week with a plate of cookies.

“Perfect Paws Pet Shelter.” She shouldered the phone as she shuffled some papers into a tidy pile.

“Is this Paige?”

“Yes it is.”

“Hello, dear. This is Darleen.”

Paige's hands stilled. She hadn't heard the woman's voice in years. She'd long since stopped calling her Mom.
Stepmother
, she supposed, was Darleen's official title.

“Paige? Are you still there?” Her voice sounded kinder than Paige remembered.

“Yes. I'm here. Sorry, I was just in the middle of something. How are you?”

“I'm doing fine. I was just thinking about you and realized how much time has gotten away from me.”

“It's been a long time.” Six years, to be exact, since Darleen had packed up her things and moved away, leaving Paige homeless at eighteen. “How'd you know how to reach me?”

“Oh, I still keep in touch with Ellen Mays. I hear you're doing quite well there at the shelter.”

Paige ran a hand over her face, trying to gather her thoughts. “I love my work. We've had our struggles, but things are going well for the moment.”

“You always did have a heart for animals.”

Do you have to bring home every stray you find? Just look at this floor!

“It's very rewarding. How are you? Are you still in Augusta?”

“Yes, I'm helping my sister with the flower shop. It's grown quite a bit since I've been here. I hear you're with that Callahan boy you always liked so much.”

Her tone was filled with approval. Strange, since she'd never seemed to like him much. “Riley. Yes, we're . . . we're a couple now.” “It must be difficult, what he's been through. Ellen told me he came home from Afghanistan a quadriplegic, poor thing.”

“No, no, he's just—he's an amputee. He has a prosthesis, and he's doing very well. We just played basketball last week.”