Just a Kiss (6 page)

R
iley secured the towel at his waist, leaned against the bathroom counter, and wetted the razor. After last night's debacle he felt the need for a clean slate of some kind, and his face was the easiest target. The mirror began fogging up, so he opened the door leading into the bedroom.

He'd been a real jerk with Paige last night. Why was it everything seemed so different, so clear, in the morning? Just because he was all knotted up over her didn't give him the right to be nasty. She didn't know the close proximity was hard for him. That watching her go out with Dylan was torture. She was only trying to help him.

The razor scraped as he drew it along his stubbled jaw. He rapped it against the sink, drawing in a deep breath of the humid air. Somehow the bathroom always smelled like Paige after he showered. The bedding smelled of her, too, no matter that it was freshly washed. Living in her private space was its own special kind of torture.

He wondered where Paige was this morning, hoped he hadn't chased her from her own house. He'd gotten through his exercises
and was feeling restless. He was tired of being cooped up. The thought of facing people didn't thrill him, but he had to get out of here, find something to do. Was it too soon for a job?

Hard as it was to admit, he didn't know if he had the stamina for that. After the exercises and shower, he was beat. His heart was pounding hard just from standing upright, and his stump was throbbing.

Plus, he couldn't drive, and he couldn't walk far, making him dependent on others for transportation. He gave the razor an extra hard rap against the sink, rinsed his face, and blotted his freshly shaven cheeks with a towel. Much better. If only he felt as normal as he looked.

Now for the exquisite treat of getting dressed. He grabbed his crutches and hobbled into the bedroom.

His eyes darted toward a movement in the open doorway. Paige froze at the threshold, one hand poised to knock.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Her eyes slid downward, and he looked away before they could drop past the towel and fasten on his naked stump. Now there was a sight sure to please. He wished he could tug his towel south to hide it, but that would expose other areas she had no interest in seeing.

He gritted his teeth, continuing toward the bureau. “How was your morning?” he asked, pleased his tone sounded more agreeable than he felt.

“I had—” She turned her head and cleared her throat. “I had breakfast with the girls—Lucy and Eden.”

“That's great.” He pulled open a bureau drawer. His gaze flickered up to the mirror where he could see Paige avoiding eye contact. Her fingers fiddled with the top button of her shirt.

Was she uncomfortable at the sight of his bare stump, or just feeling awkward after their argument the night before? The tape of his ugly words played one more time in his head.

“Listen, Paige. I'm sorry about last night. I was a jerk.”

“Riley . . .” Her eyes darted to his and then away.

He faced her, skivvies and cargos in hand. “I know you're trying to help. I was just in a mood.”

“Well, who wouldn't be? My gosh, you've been through so much.”

He tossed his clothes over his shoulder and hobbled toward the closet. “That's not your problem.”

“Of course it's my problem. Whatever you're going through, I want to be there for you. I'm here if you want to talk, and so are your brothers. And I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I was so short-tempered.”

“I appreciate that. But right now, I think we just need to come to an agreement that if I need help, I'll ask.”

She gave him a look. “You know you won't ask.”

“Yes, I will.” He opened the closet door. It hit his crutch and bounced back. He hobbled out of its way and reached for it again. He toppled forward, nearly losing his balance before he caught himself on the doorframe.

“See?” Paige had taken a few steps forward. Her palm rested against her chest, which rose and fell quickly.

“See what? I got it opened.”

“You almost fell!”

“
Almost
being the key word.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. Her eyes shot daggers at him.

He smothered a smile. He'd take her temper any day over the nervous Nellie she'd been when she walked in. He loved the way it made the silver flecks flash in those blue depths.

“It's not funny.”

“Lighten up, Warren.” The empty hanger pinged around as it released his shirt.

“You're so stubborn.”

“We established that years ago.”

“You know, some people work on their flaws once they become aware of them.”

He turned with a smirk, his shirt in hand. “Who says it's a flaw?”

She lifted her chin. “Anyone who knows someone stubborn.”

He moved toward the bed and dropped his clothes there.

She eyed the pile. “Do you need some help with—?”

She stopped at his stony look, pressing her lips together as if keeping the words from escaping.

“I'm getting dressed now—all by myself.”

She only stared back, her own brand of stubborn in those sea-blue eyes.

Feeling ornery, he raised a brow, reached for the knot of his towel, and gave a little tug.

“Callahan!” She whirled away, but not before he saw the flush rise to her cheeks.

A chuckle rose up his throat, foreign yet familiar, filling the room as the door slammed shut. And man, did it feel good.

T
he fiftysomething woman knelt in the grass beside the dog. His tail wagged wildly, his tongue lolling out to the side. If Paige had ever seen a dog smiling, this one was now.

She squatted beside the two of them, ruffling the dog's fur. “He's a mixed breed, been with us for a couple weeks. He's healthy, neutered, had all his shots. He's very playful and affectionate, as you can see.”

Mrs. Miller drew her hand back and sighed. “I don't know. I kind of had my heart set on a Yorkie.”

The dog nudged his nose under the woman's hand, begging for attention.

“He really likes you. And he's got a great temperament. He'd be a good companion. Do you have grandchildren? He's terrific around kids. A family was just in yesterday checking him out.”

Mrs. Miller stood, brushing the dog fur off her slacks. “I do have grandkids, but I don't think this is the right one. He's got long hair, and he's shedding pretty badly. Plus, he doesn't exactly seem like the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you know what I mean.”

Paige suppressed the urge to cover the dog's ears and dug
deep for extra patience. “Did you see the black Lab? They're very easily trained and quite affectionate. He already knows basic commands.”

“Oh no, I don't want something that big. I have a small yard.”

“Our female sheltie might be a good fit then. She's extremely smart and great with kids. Shall we bring her out and see how you get along?”

Mrs. Miller hitched her bag on her shoulder. “I don't think so. I like the idea of rescuing an animal, but I don't think there's a good fit here.”

Paige followed Mrs. Miller to the lobby, doing her best to encourage the woman to keep an open mind.

When the door finally closed behind her, her receptionist, Lauren, shut the file drawer. “Well, you can't say you didn't give it your all.”

“I was really hoping she'd take one home.”

“We are getting a little full back there.”

And the daily care was costing a pretty penny. Paige had sat down the night before and looked over their budget. There weren't many more corners to cut. She had to find homes for some of these dogs. And scrounge up some new benefactors. And plan the fundraiser. Her head spun. She was glad it was almost quitting time. She was looking forward to a nice quiet dinner with Riley. After that she could work on the sponsor letter she was sending out.

“Hey, Paige, you have a few minutes?” Something about Lauren's tone set off warning flares.

“Sure.” She leaned her elbows on the counter. “What's up?”

Lauren's eyes flickered down at the empty desk as she seemed to search for words.

Lauren had been manning the shelter's desk since she'd
graduated from high school four years ago. She was more than a receptionist, really, and it occurred to Paige that it was past time for a raise. But she dearly hoped that wasn't what this was about.

Lauren looked up with her wide brown eyes. “I'm really sorry to do this to you, but . . . I found another job.”

The bottom dropped out of Paige's stomach. “You're quitting?” Lauren winced. “I don't want to. I really don't, but with the shelter in such dire straits financially, and its future so up in the air, I had to find something more stable. I have a car payment, and I just bought my cute little house, and they were looking for someone to manage the sheriff's office.”

“Oh, Lauren.” Paige sighed. “You're worth a lot more than you're making now. I wish I could afford to pay you more.”

“I know you do. But this is a really good opportunity for me, and I just can't afford to turn it down.”

“Of course you can't. I wish you the best, really.” She was trying hard to be happy for the girl.

“I'd like to help you find and train my replacement, but we'll have to move fast. I can only finish out the week, and I really had to fight for those days.”

“Oh boy. All right. Well . . . I'll write an ad to place tomorrow.” After she wrote the sponsor letter and filled out a stack of grant forms and created a GoFundMe page. “I'm sure it'll all work out.”

Lauren rolled out from behind the desk and stood. “Thanks for taking this so well. I was really dreading telling you.”

Paige dredged up a smile. “Well, you're not just an employee. You've become a friend. Sheriff Colton got himself a real winner, and I'll make sure he knows it.”

Lauren hugged Paige, then gathered her things and left.

Paige fell into the spot the girl had vacated, her breath leaving
her body in a big gush. Great. Just great. Where was she going to find another Lauren, and for the low wage she could afford? She was sure Sara, their other staff member, couldn't work more hours. She was taking a full load of online courses and barely holding it together now.

Paige's phone vibrated in her pocket; she pulled it out, eager for something else to think about, and found a text from Lucy.

Brendan Marquart agreed to be a bachelor! Have you asked

Riley yet?

The bachelor auction. One more thing on her to-do list.

She'd been planning to ask him Saturday morning after she apologized. But it totally slipped her mind after one look at his muscled torso. And those arms. He'd always been brawny, but now he seemed chiseled out of stone.

How many times had he whipped off his shirt during a game of basketball? She'd thought nothing of it. Now she found herself wondering what it would feel like to run her hands over his biceps, feel the softness of his flesh stretched over the hardness beneath. The thought left her disturbed, feeling like all kinds of perv.

What was wrong with her? She shook her head and texted back.
That's great! I haven't asked Riley yet.

What are you waiting for?

Good question. She'd had all weekend. But every time she started to ask, something stopped her.

She was only trying to protect him. What if no one bid on him? Or worse, what if women felt sorry for him? He'd hate that. But she was probably worrying for nothing. She couldn't even imagine him agreeing to this. Not now.

The right timing. I'll ask in the next couple days.

She stashed her phone in her pocket.

Right now she had bigger fish to fry. She got out a blank sheet of paper and starting working on an ad for the paper.

“What are you doing?” Paige said.

Riley turned from the smoking grill to see her slipping through the sliding door. It squeaked on the track, making a sparrow flutter from the tree branches overhead. Dasher slinked up to Paige, her gray tail swishing.

“What?” he said. “No ‘Hi, honey, I'm home'?”

“You're going to burn your arm.”

He smirked. “Well, then, we'll just cut it off too.”

“That's not funny.”

“Lighten up, Warren.” He shifted his weight on the crutch and flipped the steak with his free hand. “Still like yours medium?”

“I was going to broil those in the oven.”

“A waste of good meat. You're getting medium if you don't answer.”

“That's fine.” She took a step forward, then stopped and shuffled around, no doubt fighting the urge to take over.

“If you just can't help yourself, go set the table. Already tossed a salad.”

“My, aren't you industrious today.” She picked up Dasher and disappeared through the doorway, leaving it open.

“Just hungry and bored,” he called.

Man, was he bored. Beau had offered to take him out on a buddy's boat, but the thought of being back on the water was depressing when he couldn't be doing what he wanted to be doing.

Just being outside helped though. Breathing the salt-laden air, hearing the wind whisper through the trees.

It beat the nightmares filled with dry air, gritty sand, and the still body of his comrade lying nearby in a pool of blood. His latest dream had been so real. More memory than dream.

Tex's lips moved, wordlessly at first, while Riley tried to stop the flow of blood from a gaping stomach wound. When he realized the futility of his efforts, he gave up and focused on comforting his friend.

“I got you, buddy. It's going to be okay,” he said. Lied. What else could he do?

Tex's lips moved again. “Why—why me?” His body quivered one last time, then stilled, his eyes staring blankly at the evening sky.

Riley had awakened with a shudder, his heart racing, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. The words repeated over and over in his mind.
Why me? Why me? Why me?
It wasn't what his friend had really said. Those were Riley's words. Riley's question.

“Callahan!”

He whirled around, trying to clear the crud from his head, realizing it wasn't the first time Paige had called. “Yeah?”

“Inside or outside?”

“Outside.”

He checked the steaks, making an effort to shake the memory. Push the darkness away. Maybe the nightmares were going to intrude on his sleep, but he'd be darned if he was going to give them headspace during the day.

Twenty minutes later he pushed his plate back and massaged his aching leg under the table. The steaks had been perfect, and the conversation nice. Paige had asked about his first counseling session. It hadn't gone as well as he made out, but seeing some of the worry dissipate from her eyes was worth the exaggeration.

In truth, he'd spent the hour avoiding the subject of his missing leg and the trauma surrounding its loss. He didn't want to talk about his stupid decision to enlist or the fact that he'd lost his vocation right along with his leg. He was thankful Dr. Lehman didn't push. Even so, his back had been damp with sweat by the time he left.

What could the man possibly know about what he'd been through? Riley had read his bio online. The guy had it all: education, a loving wife, three kids. All his limbs. The hour had felt like a month. He wasn't sure he could bring himself to go back.

A squeak sounded as Paige's fork connected with her plate. Half her T-bone remained, and she seemed more interested in pushing her food around than putting it in her mouth.

Come to think of it, she'd been asking all the questions since she'd gotten home. He began to wonder if the worry he'd seen in her eyes had nothing to do with him.

“Your steak cooked okay?”

Her eyes flickered up. “It's perfect. Delicious.” She took a bite as if to prove it and followed it up with a swig of iced tea.

She resumed pushing her food around the plate.

One more squeak, and he grabbed her hand.

She looked up, wide-eyed.

“What's going on?”

“Nothing.” She set down her fork and began fiddling with her necklace. “Why do you ask?”

He studied her face. Lines etched her forehead, and a telltale frown crouched between her brows. “You're stressed out.”

“No, I'm not.”

He gave her a look.

“You don't know everything.”

“Maybe not, but I know you. It's too much, all this fund-raising and stuff on top of your job.”

“I can handle it.”

“Paige . . . maybe you should just . . .”

Her eyes tightened. “Just what?”

“I know how much the shelter means to you, but maybe you should just—”

“Quit?” She thrust her plate back, her eyes colliding with his. “Is that what you were going to say? Because if it is, then you really don't know me at all.” She started to stand.

He tightened his grip on her arm. “Hey.”

“I'm not giving up the shelter. I'm not giving up on those animals. They need me. When have I ever failed at something I put my mind to, huh? Can you answer me that? I'm going to fix this.”

He put his palms up. “Okay, okay. Settle down. Good grief.”

She slowly relaxed into the seat, her eyes finding the checked cloth of the table. “Sorry.”

“Why don't you tell me what's going on? Maybe I can help.”

She set her elbows on the table and palmed her eyes. “Lauren quit today.”

He frowned, suddenly wanting to throttle the mousy girl who'd been Paige's right hand for years. “She quit? Just like that?”

“She's finishing out the week. I can't really blame her, with things so up in the air. She got a job with the sheriff's office.”

“She's leaving you in the lurch.”

“I'll just have to find someone else. I wrote up an ad for the paper. It's just one more thing, you know?” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “But I'll find someone, and it'll be fine.”

An idea popped into his mind and quickly grew roots. Was
this a temporary solution to Paige's problem? To his own boredom? He could fix both with one move.

And work side by side with the woman of your dreams? Are you an idiot?

But she needed his help. And he wanted nothing more than to erase those worry lines on her forehead. She was so selfless, wanting nothing more than to save those animals, giving of herself for him. He wanted to do something for her.