Home Sweet Home (Sweet, Tx. Book 4.5) (Contemporary Romance Novella)

by Candis Terry

  She turned at the sound of his deep voice, inhaled one more glimpse of that mouthwatering physique, and noted the look of complete and utter puzzlement on his face.

  “We’re a good team, Aiden.” She lifted her hands in the air, then dropped them with a slap against her thighs. “Maybe, someday, you’ll figure that out.”

  Chapter Eight

  TWO DAYS LATER, the back screen door of Bud’s Diner banged shut as Paige headed toward her truck, a hot bath, and a chilled glass of chardonnay. Sleep had evaded her since she tossed out the business proposal to Aiden, and she’d been dragging all day. Of course, most of the loss of z’s had little to do with worrying whether he’d come around and say yes to picking apples and restoring her Victorian house to its former glory.

  The devil might be in the details, but all Paige really wanted was for him to engage.

  Every time she’d drifted off, she could see him looking back at her, his deep brown eyes filled with uncertainty and confusion. Aiden had always been a man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. He’d always been a man of action. Even when he’d been just a boy. It had been one of the things that had made her fall in love with him. Somewhere deep down, she knew that, no matter what, he’d always be strong. But times had changed, and the tables had turned.

  It was her turn to be strong.

  For him.

  She untied her work apron and looked up as she approached the red F-150. Aiden stood there, lean hip braced against the back bumper, arms folded, watching her approach with a look in his eyes she couldn’t quite read.

  “Hey there,” she said as she opened the door and tossed her purse and apron inside. “If you showed up hoping for a taste of Bud’s newest concoction, you’re too late. It went down the garbage disposal about an hour ago, along with a few curse words that sounded a whole lot like “Stupid effing idea.”

  His laugh made her smile.

  “What did he come up with this time?”

  “Gladys Lewis talked him into re-creating a dish she used to make for her husband back in the 1950s.”

  His head went back in a “Whaaaaaat?” way.

  “Yeah. The fifties. An era where Jell-O molds and meat loaf were the highlight of the dinner table. Somehow, Gladys convinced Bud that tuna, potato chip, and olive casseroles were making a comeback.”

  “I’m speechless.” He made a comical face. “And no longer hungry either.”

  “That’s what the Calhouns said when they came in for lunch today. Much to Bud’s dismay, they ignored the ‘Daily Special’ and promptly ordered their usual chicken fried steaks. Chester Banks said he’d brave taking a bite if Gladys could score him a date with the new cashier at the Touch and Go Market.”

  “Did Gladys go for that?”

  “No. And neither did Chester. Or anyone else in the diner. So down the disposal it went.”

  “Well, at least Bud’s brave enough to embrace change.”

  How about you? she wanted to ask, but figured he’d tell her why he was standing there looking scrumptious enough to eat in his own good time.

  “Change can be good.” She leaned against the side of her truck, facing him, hoping to hear some good news. “But it doesn’t have to leave a bad taste in your mouth. So what brings you to Bud’s parking lot?”

  “You.”

  She liked the sound of that, and hope danced in her heart.

  “I’ve given your business proposal some thought.”

  “And?” Hope was now jumping up and down, gleefully clapping its happy little hands.

  His broad shoulders lifted on a slow exhale. “I’m sorry, but I’m not in any position to make promises or consider anything long-term.”

  “I see.” Disappointment blew through her like a cold, harsh wind.

  “But as long as I’m here in Sweet,” he said, “I don’t mind helping you out with some chores. You’ve done an awful lot for me, and it’s the least I can do to—”

  “Whoa.” She raised her hands. “So . . . what? You’re going to help me so you can pay back an obligation?”

  “That’s not what I said.” His strong, squared chin came up. “In fact, you didn’t even let me finish.”

  “No need. I get the point.” The cold, harsh wind shifted. Hope dropped its now-sad hands. And Paige faced reality with a huge lump parked in the center of her chest. “But I don’t need anyone helping me because they’re taking pity on me. I don’t need a handyman. I’m looking for a legitimate partner. If that’s not you, then don’t worry about it. I can do it myself. The last thing I’d ever want would be for you to think you owe me something for loving you.”

  As much as it hurt, she turned away from the frustration etched on his face, got in her truck, and drove out of the parking lot.

  DUSK HAD BARELY settled over the treetops before Paige couldn’t take it anymore and closed her laptop. Mr. Breene, who owned the Laundromat in town, had called on her way home and asked her to run some numbers on the tax advantages of purchasing another building on Main Street that was about to become available. Accounting was her thing. But crunching numbers became impossible when she could barely see past the flood of frustration wetting her eyes.

  After pouring a glass of wine and running a bath with an extra capful of the sweet, tropical-scented bubble bath Faith had given her for her birthday, she slid into the tub until the bubbles tickled her chin. From the Bluetooth speaker sitting on the bedroom dresser, John Mayer sang “XO.” How a man could make such beautiful music yet have such disastrous love affairs was anyone’s guess. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and waited to be swept away.

  Midsong, a horrible racket crashed above the lovely strum of bad boy John’s guitar. The noise came so loud and so sudden, she jumped, and water sloshed over the sides of the clawfoot tub.

  “What the . . .”

  The crash boomed again and even rattled the window glass. She had no choice but to get out and take a look. Either aliens had landed behind her house, or someone was demolishing her barn. Neither would be welcome.

  Throwing open the window, she leaned out and took a look. In the waning light she saw a huge trailer backed up into her driveway with a cherry-picker sitting on top. Attached to the long trailer was Aiden’s truck. The man himself was balanced with one long, muscular leg on the trailer bed and the other on the step of the cherry-picker while he loosened the straps securing the humongous piece of machinery.

  “What the heck are you doing?”

  His head swiveled around, and the thick-webbed straps in his hands stilled. For a long beat, he just looked up at her on the second floor. From her angle, she couldn’t really tell exactly where he was looking or the expression on his face. His silence wasn’t giving her a clue either.

  “Aiden? What are you doing?” she asked again, hoping for better success this time.

  She got zip.

  “Stay right there, I’m coming down.” She backed away from the window and closed it tight. Then and only then did she notice the big puddle of water beneath her feet. Her bare feet. Bare legs. Bare . . . crap. Now she knew what he’d been looking at.

  With the exception of a few patches of bubbles, she was naked as the day she was born.

  “Oh, good God, Paige.” She looked into the steamy bathroom mirror. “Really?”

  Disgusted with herself for the temporary loss of her mind, she grabbed her fuzzy robe off the hook on the back of the door and shoved her arms through. Her wet feet slapped and squeaked against the hardwood floor as she headed downstairs.

  “You stay here,” she told Cricket, as the dog and her wagging behind beat her to the door.

  By the time Paige opened the kitchen door and stepped out onto the back patio, Aiden had commenced unstrapping the cherry-picker. Dodging the sharp pebbles beneath her feet, she hurried over to where he’d parked.

  “Third time’s a charm,” she said, looking up at the magnificent view of his perfect jeans-covered ass while he bent over and unhooked the strap from beneath
the machine. “What are you doing?”

  He righted himself and began to neatly fold the straps. “Unhooking this cherry-picker,” he drawled as though anyone in their right mind could see what he was doing.

  “I can see that. The question is why there’s a cherry-picker in my driveway and why is it about to be unloaded from this trailer? And why are you here with a cherry-picker?”

  “The other day, I noticed that while most of the lower branches of the apple trees had been picked clean, the top branches still held fruit. You’ve got enough space between trees to maneuver this around, and it’s safer than a ladder.”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t like heights. Which is why there’s still fruit on the top branches. I’d rather lose the fruit than break my neck climbing a ladder.” She folded her arms. “Which still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

  “I came to help.”

  “I told you I didn’t need your help.”

  He jumped down from the trailer and landed in front of her. His boots made little puffs of dirt float up into the air. “I got that message loud and clear.”

  “Yet you’re here. With a cherry-picker.”

  “Yep.” He flashed a smile, then turned away to unlatch another strap.

  “So since you obviously heard me but didn’t listen to me, you probably aren’t going to admit you saw me hanging naked out the window either.”

  “Why would I deny it?” Grin fully in place, he turned back around to face her. His eyes did a quick scan up and down her body. His smile remained like he could still picture her minus the fuzzy robe. “It was the best thing I’ve seen all day.”

  “I thought someone was tearing down my barn. Or that aliens had landed.”

  “Those would have been really happy aliens.”

  When his eyebrows lifted suggestively, she chuckled. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Loaded question.” He tossed the webbed strap onto the side rail of the trailer. “For now, if you could just step back, I’ll unload this thing.”

  “It’s too dark to pick apples tonight.”

  “Correct. But it’s here. Ready to go first thing in the morning. I don’t have to have it back to the rental place until just before it closes tomorrow.”

  “Aiden, as much as I appreciate the thought and the effort, I don’t have it in my budget to pay for this. It would just be easier to take a loss on the apples left on the trees.”

  “No worries. I got it for free.”

  “Free? How’d you manage that?”

  His smile did nothing but raise more questions. “How about you back up a safe distance and let me unload this thing. We can talk later.”

  “Promise?”

  He gave a nod toward the patio. “Now get that stuffed animal you’re wearing in gear and get moving.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.” Conceding—for now—she saluted him, then turned on her heel and, dodging those same sharp pebbles, moved up onto the patio.

  For ten minutes, she sat in one of her comfy patio chairs watching Aiden in his delicious glory move in ways that showcased the power in his upper body. It was quite the show. So much so that she’d had to go inside for the glass of wine she’d started before her bath.

  While Aiden worked, and she watched, her body started to hum with need. And as he brushed off his hands and headed in her direction, she wondered what it would take to convince him to forget about this whole ridiculous good-bye thing.

  Maybe luck would be on her side, and all it would take would be for her to drop her fuzzy robe.

  AIDEN TURNED AWAY from the parked and secured cherry-picker and moved toward Paige. One look was all it took to tell him he was in deep trouble. In her hand she held up a glass of wine for him to take. The fuzzy robe she wore had slipped off one bare shoulder, and with her legs propped up on the chair, he knew she was still naked beneath the soft fabric. The suggestive look in her eye wasn’t calculated; instead, it communicated exactly the way she felt.

  She wanted him.

  Her unspoken message shot through his body like a burning arrow of need. Before he could let her see how much he’d been physically affected, he accepted the glass and sat down.

  He wanted her too.

  More than anything he’d ever wanted before. But he couldn’t have her. In all fairness, he’d come to help. Not make the situation stickier.

  “Sorry I interrupted your bath.”

  “No you’re not.” She smiled and sipped her wine. “Otherwise, you’d have missed me hanging out the window ready to welcome the aliens to Planet Buck Naked.”

  “Lucky timing for me.” He shrugged. “I won’t complain.”

  She leaned forward, and the collar of the robe slipped a little more, revealing the cleavage his fingers tingled to touch. He remembered her softness. The sweet scent of her skin. The warmth she wrapped around him. Her sighs. Her moans.

  Jesus.

  Everything about Paige was a sensory overload. Impossible to dismiss and hard to resist.

  But resist was exactly what he needed to do.

  “Now. Do you want to explain how you got the rental for nothing?” she asked. “Or maybe you could backtrack my wall of questions all the way up to what possessed you to even come up with the idea in the first place. Especially when, just a few days ago, you seemed so determined to remove yourself from my life. Now it seems you’re willing to plunk yourself right back in the middle. So what’s up?”

  As she leaned back in her chair, Aiden knew he should come clean. He should tell her the truth. Instead, he chose to relay only a part of the truth and keep the rest to himself.

  “Nothing’s changed except . . . when I drove away from your house I took a good look around and saw that you could probably use a friend to help you out here and there. When you came by and tossed out the business offer, it made me understand that maybe you really are in over your head. So as your friend, I want to help out where I can.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You sure toss that word around a lot.”

  “Which one? Help?”

  “Friend.”

  “I hope that’s what we are.”

  “Is that so?”

  He nodded because even he wasn’t sure anymore.

  Friends were what they’d been in elementary school. It was what they’d been before he’d ever kissed her sweet, soft lips and discovered there were a lot better things than being just friends. Yet while he’d been in the Army and away at war, he’d been afraid of what his future held.

  He’d pushed her away.

  Just friends was how he’d treated her over the past several years.

  No.

  Scratch that.

  He treated friends better than how he’d treated her. He’d rarely answered her letters. Rarely thanked her for the amazing packages she’d sent to him that he was able to share with his buddies. And though he’d told her not to, he’d never thanked her for putting her life on hold to wait for him. He’d dishonored the magnitude of the gift she’d selflessly given him. In return, he’d been callous, and he’d acted as if she didn’t matter.

  Hell. She mattered.

  Sometimes, he thought she was all that mattered.

  And that idea just plain scared the shit out of him because he didn’t even know who he was anymore. He wasn’t lying to her when he said that the man who’d left here years ago was gone. He was different. There was too much weight in his heart and on his shoulders to even remember who that guy was.

  Still, cutting Paige completely out of his life seemed impossible. Especially when the first thing he woke up in the morning thinking was how much he wanted to see her smile. How badly he wanted to see that long, honey-colored ponytail swing as she walked away and gave him a great view of her curvy backside.

  Sometimes in the middle of the night, he imagined the delicate touch of her fingers on his skin. The sigh she let go in the midst of laughter. Or the warmth of her body pressed against his beneath the cool sheets.

  Those were
his demons.

  He hadn’t intentionally created them, but they were there regardless.

  Paige deserved someone who could give her more than just old memories. She needed fresh, new memories that would only get better and better each and every day.

  So friends it had to be.

  “That look on your face says different,” she said, tilting her wineglass in his direction. “That look says there’s something more than friendship at hand.”

  “I’m just tired.” Yeah. Lame-ass excuse. Still, it was the only thing he could come up with when she looked at him the way she was, with her sleek brows pulled slightly together over those crystal blue eyes.

  “Tired. Hmmm.” She set her wineglass down on the table and got up from her chair. “And yet you went and rented a big ol’ machine, hauled it all the way over here, and rolled it off the trailer.”

  Pulse throbbing, Aiden watched as she came around the table and looked down at him through eyes that held more than a hint of doubt. She touched his shoulder, just slightly, with one fingertip that then trailed up the back of his neck and down to his shoulder again. The heat of that one finger seeped through his shirt and sent an urgent message through his body.

  Paige was a sexy, sensuous woman. She didn’t have to work at it, she just was. And for a man who’d loved her and had tasted her passion, she was damned hard to resist.

  “So . . . that’s really what you want?” she asked. “To be friends?”

  “Of course.” Bullshit. With her standing so close, smelling so damned good, and looking so soft and warm, friendship was the last thing on his mind.

  “But . . .” She raised one leg over both of his and straddled his lap. “Friends—no matter how close—don’t really do this . . .” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and her sweet, tropical scent wove a spell around him.

  At that moment, she could do anything, and he’d be putty in her hands.

  “Or this . . .” She trailed a finger down his temple to his cheek, then replaced her finger with her warm lips, which gently brushed kisses down the side of his face until they came right to his own lips.