Just a Kiss (10 page)

What was he doing? She was tipsy, if not outright drunk. He
was taking advantage of her. Even if she didn't seem to mind—and she didn't. He hung on to the thought long enough to extend the kiss a few delicious seconds. Then he reluctantly pulled back.

His breath came fast and shallow. The air in the room felt stifling.

Her hands fell away, and he missed them immediately. Her eyes remained closed, her breaths feathering his lips with little puffs. He brushed the hair back from her face, wishing she'd open her eyes and look at him for just a second. Acknowledge what had happened. Admit that something had changed.

But her eyes remained closed.

A long minute later her breathing began to even out, growing deep and steady. Ignoring the sting of disappointment, he eased off the bed and pulled up the covers. When he got downstairs, the TV was off and the lights were out. His dad had put a quilt and pillow on the sofa for him.

He lay in the dark, the quiet swimming around him as his mind rewound the last few minutes. No question, she'd kissed him back. She'd even kissed him first.

But her kiss had been more like a friendly peck. And the alcohol was a factor. She'd been under the influence, possibly doing something she never would've dreamed of, never even wanted.

When she woke up, was she going to be horrified? Maybe. And what excuse would he have? He was completely in his right mind. She was going to know his feelings went far beyond friendship.

And what if that wrecked their relationship? The very thing he'd been carefully avoiding for a whole year, and he'd undone it all in one night. In a moment of weakness.

He tossed and turned for a long time and must've finally fallen asleep, because next thing he knew light was shining through the
living room curtains. He heard a clank in the kitchen and sat up, the smell of coffee reaching his sleepy brain cells.

He checked the time. His dad would already be out on the water, and Beau and Zac had classes, which meant—

Paige came through the kitchen door, wincing against the daylight, a mug of coffee in her hand. “You're up.” Her voice grated across her throat. “I brought you coffee.”

“Thanks.” He shifted the quilt.

She set down the mug and lowered herself onto the coffee table across from him. Her hair was wild and messy around her face. She had black smudges under her eyes, and he figured he had to be crazy in love because he thought she was just about the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

She massaged her temples. “Remind me never to drink again.”

“Headache?”

“The headache of all headaches.”

He started to sit up. “I'll get you some—”

“I already took ibuprofen.”

He sank back against the sofa cushions.

“Sorry about rooting through your medicine cabinet, but I was desperate. I drank two glasses of water, and I'm still thirsty, and my mouth feels like it's stuffed with cotton balls.”

His eyes dropped to her lips, sticking there for a long moment. He pulled them away before she noticed, a flush rising into his neck at the memory of those lips on his.

“Did that really happen?” she asked.

His eyes darted to hers, his heart kicking his ribs hard. “What?”

“I still can't believe it's true. Everything she told me.”

Oh. That. He had to put aside his own fears and focus. Her eyes
looked so sad. He stifled the urge to pull her into his arms again. “I can't either. I'm sorry. I can't believe she told you like that.”

“I wish they'd told me a long time ago. I feel like my whole life has been a lie. I don't even know who I am anymore.”

“That's not true. You're still the same person you've always been.”

“I guess now I know why she hates me so much. At least there's a reason. I always figured it was me. That I was just too much trouble.”

“She doesn't hate you,” he said. But deep inside he wondered if it was true. “And you're not a bit of trouble. Shoot, one of us Callahans alone is more trouble than three of you would be.”

“Did you text her and tell her where I was?”

“Yeah. Hope that's okay.”

“What'd she say?”

“Not much. She probably knows what she did was inexcusable.”

She played with the hem of her shirt. “Did—did your dad see me like that?”

He swallowed hard, his heart beating up into his throat. “You don't remember?”

She closed her eyes in a long blink as if searching her memory files. “Not really. I remember walking with you down the dock, then the next thing I remember is waking up here.”

Relief flooded him. She didn't remember the kiss. Didn't know he'd kissed her like she was his long-lost lover.

“Dad was cool about it, but you've definitely got a lecture coming. I hope you don't mind, but I told him what happened with Darleen. He won't say anything to anyone.”

“That's fine. I trust him. I can't believe I drank all that.” Her
blue eyes locked onto his, softening. “Thanks, Callahan. For taking care of me.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Anytime.”

“Would you mind taking me home? Darleen'll be at work, and I just want to go back to sleep.”

She was quiet as he drove her home a while later. His thoughts spun with everything that had happened. A weight had settled heavily in his midsection and wasn't budging. He tried to tell himself it was relief that she didn't remember the kiss.

But then he remembered the way she'd responded to his touch, so sweetly, so eagerly. Despite her drunken condition, hope had sprung to life last night, filling him with anticipation. But now the new weight inside crushed every last bit of hope, pressed down until his lungs could barely expand.

“We're here.”

Beau's voice called him back to the present. Somehow they'd arrived back in Summer Harbor and were pulling into Paige's driveway. The drive was empty, and he was momentarily glad she was still at work.

He thanked his brother for the ride and moved awkwardly up the porch steps using his crutches. The house was warm, smelling of Paige's sweet perfume. He opened a window, letting a fresh breeze chase away the fragrance.

The memory of that kiss was like a kick in the pants. He couldn't go back and change his decision to enlist. He couldn't wish his leg back on his body. All he could do was work with what he had—however little it might seem.

Improvise, adapt, overcome.
It was time he applied the philosophy to his life.

Paige was never going to feel the same way about him, and even if she did, he wanted more for her now. She deserved so much better than half a man. He looked around the living room, seeing Paige in every piece of art, in every throw pillow and flower arrangement.

He was going to do everything he could to get back on his feet. It was time to move on with his life, and he couldn't do that until he put some miles between himself and Paige.

F
rumpy Joe's was filled with the usual rush of morning customers. Paige didn't mind the ambient noise of silverware and chatter. Somehow the familiar sounds of chaos helped soothe her troubled spirit.

Across from her, Lucy set down the laminated menu. “All right, sugar, what's ailing you? You've hardly said a peep since I sat down.”

The server brought her glass of orange juice. “Thanks,” Paige said before the woman scurried away.

She had been distracted. Riley had been acting so strange this week. Somehow she thought she'd see a little of the old Riley again once he got his prosthesis. A hint of hope or eagerness.

Instead he was all dogged determination with his exercises and stretching. He was walking without his crutches now, only a slight unevenness to his gait. He fell into bed exhausted each night. And he seemed to have built a cement wall around himself to keep her out. When she woke him from a nightmare, he pretended he was fine and asked her to leave. When he startled from a loud sound, he brushed off her concern.

She was glad to see the surliness go, but the disconnectedness made her feel like an outsider looking in. You'd think she'd be used to the feeling.

“I'm just in a funk,” she finally answered with a sigh. “I don't know why—things are going well at the shelter. I found a new insurance company with decent rates, I've got three new sponsors, and I finally found a girl who can take Riley's position in about a month. Best yet, she's happy with the salary I was paying Lauren.” Lucy's brows notched up. “That's awesome. See, we're getting there. Cheer up.”

“We still have to raise enough funds at the auction to tide us over until we receive the new donor funds and find a couple more benefactors with big bank accounts. And hopefully at least one of the grants will come through.”

“We still have what, a little over a month? We can do it. You should be thrilled, and instead you look like someone ran over your puppy.”

Paige tried for a smile. “You're right. I've prayed my heart out for this, and God's answering my prayers. I should be more grateful.”

Lucy tucked her brown hair behind her ear. “I wasn't trying to lay a guilt trip on you. I was subtly hinting for you to spill your guts.”

“I'm not used to subtle. You pretty much have to hit me over the head with a brick.”

“I thought that's what I was doing when I said ‘spill your guts.' ”

She was dying to talk to someone about these weird feelings she was having for Riley. Since Lucy's return to Summer Harbor, she'd proven herself a trustworthy friend. As long as . . .

Paige bit her lip. “You can't tell Eden. Or even Zac.”

“Okay . . .”

“It's personal, and I'd just die if anyone else found out.”

Lucy set her hand over Paige's. “Hey. You can trust me to keep my lips on lock-down.”

“I know that, I just—” She just needed to get it out there. Stop hoarding these feelings. Maybe it was one of those things that would disappear once she acknowledged it. The thought gave her courage.

“I've been having these weird feelings that come and go—okay, mostly come—ever since Riley got home.” The words came out in a rush, and she met Lucy's gaze, wincing.

Lucy raised her brows. “Feelings like . . . more than friendly feelings?”

“Feelings like my heart beats faster when he's close, and my mouth gets all cottony, and I'm suddenly noticing the smell of his cologne, and the cut of his biceps, and his beautiful hands, and the way his deep voice is so darn sexy—come on, tell me you haven't noticed these things.”

Lucy gave her a look. “Um, I haven't noticed these things.”

Paige's shoulders slumped. What was wrong with her? “Women have been bringing food over for Riley, you know?
Single
women. Well, guess who brought him a tuna casserole last week? Roxy Franke.”

“And . . .”

“I keep forgetting you're from away. Roxy's this girl he dated in high school. You should've seen her practically drooling all over him. I wanted to shove her perky little nose right in the casserole.”

Lucy chuckled. “Paige. Your feelings are evolving. It's not unheard of, you know.”

“I already dated his brother, for pity's sake. I'm starting to think I have a Callahan addiction.”

“Well, if you have to have an addiction . . .”

“He's my best friend. He calls me by my last name. I'm his buddy, his pal, his
bro
.”

Lucy smirked. “I'm pretty sure even Riley has figured out you're a girl.”

“You know what I mean.” She covered her face. “Gah! I just want it to go away. I want things to go back to normal.”

“How do you know he's not sweet on you too? Maybe there's something there. You guys would make a great couple.”

Paige gave her a look.

“You should pray about it. Maybe it's no coincidence he couldn't recuperate at the farm. Maybe God put the two of you up close and personal so you could see each other in a new light. You should talk to Riley about it.”

Paige dropped her hands. “Oh no. That is not happening.”

“Obviously you're compatible. You've been friends for years. Maybe his feelings could shift too.”

“Or maybe he could think I've gone totally
insane
.”

The server approached and took their orders. When she left, Lucy's brows were puckered thoughtfully.

Paige thought she'd feel better after she'd spilled the beans, but she didn't. If anything, she felt more agitated than before. And the feelings sure weren't gone. She took a sip of her OJ and noticed her hands were shaking.

Get a grip, girl
.

“You should at least think about touching on the subject with Riley. Y'all are close. You share everything.”

“Well, not this. He doesn't feel the same way, and it'll only make things awkward. He'll feel sorry for me and conscious of everything he says and does. Or worse, he'll think I just feel
sorry for him, and before you know it he won't even want to be around me.”

“Not possible.”

The thought of losing Riley made her gut tighten into a huge knot. It had about killed her when he'd left for the military. What would it be like to lose him for good? He and the Callahans were the only family she had.

“We're under the same roof, not to mention we work together. The poor guy wouldn't even be able to get away from me.”

“I know, but . . .” Lucy tapped her chin. “Maybe you can make that work in your favor.”

That piqued her interest. “Like how?”

“Like make him see you in a different light. Make him see you as a woman.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

Lucy's gaze scrolled over her face until Paige felt like crawling under the table.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have drool on my face?”

“I was just . . . You're a natural beauty, sugar. That gorgeous mane of blond hair, those blue eyes. You have great skin. But maybe a few little tweaks wouldn't hurt. Take your hair out of that ponytail for starters, and give the top a bit of lift, you know? Maybe a little mascara, a little lipstick.”

Paige gave her a wry grin. “Careful, your Southern roots are showing.”

“I'm just saying. Maybe if you make him see you in a new way . . . Hey, the wedding! It's the perfect opportunity. You'll be all spiffed up. Do you have a date yet?”

“I was thinking about asking Dylan.”

“You have to ask Riley.”

“I'm not asking him on a date!”

“Think about it. You'll be looking all beautiful, there'll be romance in the air, and dancing . . . it's the perfect opportunity. Do you have your dress picked out?”

“I was going to wear slacks and a blouse.”

Lucy's eyes widened in horror. “Oh, honey.” She shook her head. “No, no, no. We're going dress shopping. And you're coming over to my house to get ready for the wedding. By the time we're finished with you, Riley won't know what hit him.”

Paige couldn't get Lucy's words out of her head the rest of the weekend. Riley spent a lot of his free time with his brothers, and part of her felt relieved. There was a strange tension in the air. Or maybe she was only imagining it.

She spent the extra time mulling over what Lucy had said. Mulling and praying. Lucy didn't think her feelings for Riley were out of bounds. Maybe Paige was making too much of it. Maybe all those people who'd said men and women couldn't be just friends were right.

Maybe she should do something about it.

One thing was sure. Paige was right about her ponytail. And about her general appearance. She couldn't remember the last time she'd put on mascara, much less lipstick.

It wouldn't hurt to show him a different side of her, and the wedding was the perfect opportunity. She was even going to ask him to be her date. It made perfect sense. What woman wanted to attend a wedding alone, much less the wedding of her ex-boyfriend?

She'd ask him tonight when he got home from the Roadhouse. She'd planned to ask him after church, but she'd chickened out.

Come on, Warren. Make this happen.

The growl of an engine sounded outside the window, followed by the popping of gravel on the driveway. She peeked out the curtains. The headlights of Beau's truck stopped in front of her house. A car door slammed, and her heart began racing in her chest.

“Well, here goes,” she said to Dasher, who blinked at her with knowing eyes.

A minute later the door opened, and Riley came through.

All her bravado drained away at the sight of his scowl.

She clutched Dasher more tightly. “Hi. Did you have fun?”

“Sure.” He set down his crutch, which he still needed for steps, and walked into the kitchen, his gait looking amazingly even. He was getting more independent every day. All he needed was a full-time job, and he'd be moving out of her house. She swore she could hear a second hand ticking in the background.

The faucet kicked on, and he reappeared a few seconds later with a glass of water.

“Beau getting excited about the wedding?” she asked.

He gave her a long, assessing look, and she wondered if he thought she was still hung up on his brother.

“He's pretty impatient,” he said finally. “If it were up to him, they would've been married a year ago.”

“I'm really happy for them. They make a good couple.” Too obvious? She bit her lip.

He seemed to relax a little.

Maybe not.

“Think I'm going to turn in.” He headed for his room. “Good night.”

She couldn't let another day go by. The wedding was only five days away, and what if he asked someone else? Someone like Roxy Franke.

“Wait!”

He turned, his brows raised.

Dasher mewled, and Paige released her death grip on the cat. “Um . . .”
Just do it already, Paige
. “Speaking of the wedding . . . You got a date yet?”

His lips pressed together. “No.”

She breathed in a fresh batch of courage. “Well . . . I don't either. We should, um, go together.” Her stiff shrug felt anything but casual.

He frowned at her for a long second. “I thought you'd go with Dylan.”

“No. Nope. I'm free as a bird.” Her little chuckle sounded forced. And nervous. She wondered if he could see her heart pounding through her shirt.

“So . . . ?” she said.

“You should probably ask someone else. Someone who can dance with you.”

“You're getting around great. Come on. We're both going. We may as well go together.”

He shifted, ran his fingers through his hair as his gaze cut away. “I don't think so.”

She knew that look. He was trying to think of an excuse. He didn't want to hurt her feelings. Her face burned. But time was running out, and this was feeling increasingly like a last chance.

“Come on. We always said if one of us didn't have a date, we'd be each other's backup.”

He gave her a droll look. “We never said that.”

“Well . . . we should have. I hate going to weddings alone. It's humiliating. And this isn't just any wedding, you know . . .”

A shadow shifted on his face as his jaw twitched. “Right.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets as his eyes left hers to dart around the room.

Her mouth had gone dry, and prickles of heat poked her under her arms. She'd die on the spot if he knew how fast her pulse was racing at the thought of rejection.

He exhaled a hard sigh. “Fine. We'll go together.”

He continued to his room, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary. But even his obvious reluctance couldn't squelch the bud of hope that bloomed inside her.