by Lilian Darcy
“It wasn’t a big thing at all—it was just a kiss.”
“So why are you so bent out of shape over a bunch of daisies?”
“I’m not,” she immediately denied, then huffed out a breath. “Okay, maybe I am.”
“Then maybe you need to figure out why.”
“Because our relationship was over five years ago. Because the flowers were delivered while I was in the middle of a lesson with my class. Because my sisters were here earlier and demanded to know why you were sending me flowers.” She ticked the reasons off on her fingers as she enumerated them, then she looked at him. “I think any of those reasons would suffice, so pick one.”
Sutter winced. “I didn’t think about the fact that your students would be here.” He looked around. “Where do you put them?”
“Not in here,” she admitted. “I have sixteen if they all show up.”
“If?” he prompted.
“Attendance has been a bit of a problem since the flood,” she told him. “Some parents don’t seem to understand that I’m following the curriculum—teaching essential subjects to their kids so they’re not behind when we do get back into a real classroom. They seem to think that because this isn’t actually a school, attendance is optional.”
“So where is the classroom?”
She opened a pair of French doors and led him into the living room, where her furniture—a butter-yellow sofa, two matching armchairs with ottomans and a set of glass-and-metal occasional tables—had all been pushed back against the walls to make room for the long folding tables and chairs that occupied the middle of the room.
“And you spend the whole day in here with sixteen kids?”
She laughed softly. “You’re feeling claustrophobic just thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“A little,” he admitted, not surprised that she’d read his thoughts so easily. No one had ever understood him like Paige. In fact, when he’d first told her about his job interview at a management company in Seattle, she’d warned that he wouldn’t last behind a desk, that he’d go crazy stuck in an office.
“Actually, I try not to keep them cooped up in here all day. If the weather’s nice, I walk them down the street to the Country Kids Day Care so they can run around outside—that’s our physical education component. And if there’s research to be done, we go over to the library to use the computers there.”
The coffeepot hissed, signaling that it was finished brewing. Paige turned back to the kitchen and poured two mugs of coffee. He took the one she handed to him, shook his head when she offered cream and sugar. He’d always taken his coffee black, and he saw that she still did, too.
He settled onto one of the stools at the island while Paige cut the slice of cheesecake down the middle, then transferred one half to a second plate. She carried the plates and forks to the island, but instead of sitting beside him, she remained standing on the opposite side.
She cut off a piece of cake, then slid the fork between her lips. Her eyelids closed and a sound of pleasure hummed in her throat. “Mmm. This is even more incredible than I remembered.”
The expression on her face was pure bliss—a both tempting and painful reminder that she was a sensual woman who enjoyed indulging in all kinds of pleasures.
“Ellie Traub’s secret recipe,” he said lightly. “She doesn’t let anyone step foot in the kitchen while she’s making it.”
“She let me help her with it once.”
“She did not.”
“She did,” Paige insisted. “She was making it for the baby shower, when Laurel was pregnant with Robbie.”
“Mom always did like you best,” he said, managing to coax another smile from her.
She polished off the last of her cake, then picked up her mug of coffee and sipped.
“Do you want me to apologize for the flowers?” he asked.
She glanced at the colorful blossoms and sighed softly. “No. I don’t want you to apologize.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to go back to Seattle.” She looked at him now, her gaze steady and sure. “I need you to go back to Seattle.”
Chapter Six
Paige saw the disappointment and hurt on his face, but she didn’t—couldn’t—let herself be swayed by emotion. He’d asked what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to feel guilty about giving him an honest answer.
Except that deep in her heart, she knew that it wasn’t an honest answer. She didn’t want Sutter to go back to Seattle—she wanted him to stay in Rust Creek Falls forever. But she knew that wasn’t an option, so the next best thing was for him to leave as soon as possible before she started wishing for things she knew she couldn’t have.
“Because you’re afraid of what might happen between us if I stay,” he guessed.
Paige didn’t know what irritated her more—the cockiness of his tone or the fact that he was right. Of course, she had no intention of admitting as much.
“Nothing’s going to happen between us,” she told him in her firmest teacher voice.
“Something already happened,” he reminded her.
“You kissed me,” she acknowledged in a deliberately casual tone. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“I might have started it, but you kissed back pretty good,” he pointed out. “In fact, I’d say a lot better than pretty good. And it was a big deal.”
She felt her cheeks flush. “I did kiss you back, and I shouldn’t have.”
“Because you feel guilty about Alex?”
It was an easy excuse, and preferable to the truth—which was that one kiss from Sutter had made her want a lot more kisses, a lot more touching, a lot more everything. And that was a dangerous way of thinking.
“No,” she admitted. “Alex and I aren’t seeing one another anymore. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have no intention of starting something with you again.”
“I’d say it’s already started,” he told her.
She shook her head.
“Are you really trying to deny the chemistry between us?”
“We didn’t break up because of a lack of chemistry,” she reminded him.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “But the more time I spend with you, the more difficult it is to remember why we did break up.”
“Because you were determined to get out of Rust Creek Falls and I didn’t want to leave. And that hasn’t changed.”
“Maybe it has,” he said. “Why won’t you at least give us a chance?”
She shook her head again.
“I’m not the same man I was five years ago,” he told her. “And I’m not going to walk away from what I want this time.”
“Whether you stay or go is your choice—but don’t make the mistake of thinking it has anything to do with me.”
“If I stay, will you go out with me?”
“No.”
“I’m not asking you to make any life-altering decisions, I’m just asking you to spend some time with me.”
She picked up the empty plates and carried them to the sink. She refused to let herself even think about his invitation. No good would come from spending time with Sutter—and despite her assurance to her sisters, she knew that her heart wasn’t nearly as Sutter proof as she wanted to believe. In fact, it was already softening as her resolve was weakening.
“Just one date,” he cajoled. “And if you don’t have a good time with me, I’ll back off.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he assured her.
“Just one date?” she asked, still skeptical.
“One date. Whatever you want to do.”
Paige considered for another minute, her common sense warring with her curiosity. And in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that if he was offering to do
anything she wanted, she really could use his help with something. She finally nodded. “Okay.”
“How does tomorrow night sound?”
She shook her head. “Tomorrow morning. Early.”
“How early?”
“You can pick me up at eight.”
* * *
Sutter suspected that his Saturday-morning date with Paige was going to be unlike any other date he’d ever experienced. His first clue was the hour—obviously she wasn’t planning a candlelit dinner and romantic movie, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he would get to spend time with Paige. But as he made his way into town Saturday morning, it occurred to him that the only time he’d been at a woman’s house at eight in the morning was when he’d spent the night before in her bed.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t spent Friday night in Paige’s bed. But he did pick up breakfast for both of them—if donuts and coffee from Daisy’s Donuts could be considered breakfast. Since she hadn’t told him what their plan was for the day, he’d dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt with his favorite leather jacket. He’d nicked his jaw when he was shaving, so he double-checked his face in the rearview mirror to make sure he didn’t have any tissue stuck to the cut before he exited the vehicle.
She met him at the door, obviously eager to get going—wherever it was they were going. She was dressed just as casually in jeans, a zip-up hoodie and jean jacket. But he couldn’t help but notice how the softly faded jeans molded to the sweet curve of her buttocks, or how the layers she wore on top emphasized the slenderness of her frame. She had running shoes on her feet and her long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
Aside from the simple silver hoops that hung from her ears and the pink gloss on her lips, she wore no decorations or makeup. Of course, Paige had the kind of natural beauty that didn’t require any artificial enhancement. She looked young and fresh and as beautiful as always. And when she smiled at him, his heart actually ached.
“You made it.” Her eyes lit on the paper cup holder in his hand and her smile widened. “And you brought coffee?”
“And donuts,” he told her.
“What kind?”
“Powdered sugar with lemon filling.”
She reached for the bag. “It’s not fair that you know all my weaknesses.”
“And some much more interesting ones than cheesecake and powdered-sugar donuts.”
“One date,” she reminded him, pulling a donut out of the bag. “And then you’re going to back off.”
She sounded so optimistic he might have been insulted if he didn’t believe that her desperation to get him out of her life was a reflection of the depth of her feelings for him. “I will back off,” he agreed. “If you don’t have a good time.”
She bit into the donut. “The fact that I’m going to enjoy this doesn’t count.”
“Okay, the good-time register doesn’t start until the coffee and donuts are done and we’re at... Where are we going?”
“To the elementary school.”
“Isn’t it still under repair?”
“Yep.” Her lips curved, just a little. “You know how to swing a hammer, cowboy?”
“I think I can figure it out.”
* * *
The repair of the school was coming along slowly but surely. The first part—tearing out everything that had been damaged by the flood—had been completed fairly quickly thanks to the large number of residents who had volunteered to help out. The second part—rebuilding what had been destroyed—was a bigger task, and a more costly one. Numerous delays had held up the work, mostly resulting from a lack of funding.
The school board’s insurance company was dragging its feet, insisting that more information was needed before it could settle the claim. Of course, without money there wasn’t a lot that could be done. Some supplies had been donated, and a small fund had been collected from residents to help with the rebuild.
But the reality was that almost every family in Rust Creek Falls had been affected by the flood, and while everyone wanted to help, most were in the same predicament, with their time and resources stretched too thin to be able to stretch any further. Even the generous donation that Lissa Roarke, a transplanted Manhattanite now engaged to Gage Christensen, had procured from a New York–based nonprofit organization called Bootstraps hadn’t been enough to finance the project.
So Paige was more than a little surprised when they arrived and found twice the usual number of volunteers and every one of them busy at work. The site was buzzing, not just with activity but with information. Apparently Lissa had recently appeared on a national morning show to discuss the plight of Rust Creek Falls, and the result had been an unexpected influx of both monetary donations and building supplies. Having funds and materials made a huge difference, and of course the townspeople had done the rest, volunteering their time and labor. Those who couldn’t provide physical labor brought other things to the table—literally.
A handful of picnic tables had been set up on the property and from noon until about two o’clock, there were platters of sandwiches and a steady supply of Crock-Pots filled with hot soups and stews to fuel the workers. There were also plates of cookies, bowls of fruit and vats of coffee.
Paige and Sutter focused their efforts on her fifth-grade classroom. They worked with Dean and Nick Pritchett, who expertly measured, cut and installed the last of the drywall, following behind to tape and mud the seams and nails. Of course, Dean and Nick were finished long before Paige and Sutter, leaving the two of them working alone together for most of the afternoon.
“Is this how you spend every Saturday?”
“For the past few weeks,” she admitted. “For a long time there wasn’t anything to do because we were stuck waiting for permits and funding. Considering that, it’s amazing how much progress has been made in such a short time.”
“Are all of the teachers here?”
“Not just teachers, but support and admin staff, parents and a lot of citizens who have no direct interest in the school and their own work to do. It’s the way that towns like Rust Creek Falls work.”
“I haven’t been gone that long,” he noted drily.
“I know,” she admitted. But at times it had felt like forever. “And I know life in the big city hasn’t changed you too much.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you came all the way from Seattle when you heard about the flood.”
“It isn’t all that far.”
But she knew that it was. More than five hundred miles, and there were times she felt as if it might as well have been five thousand because of the distance the move put between her and Sutter.
“Well, I know it meant a lot to your family, that you came home.” She leaned over and touched her lips to his cheek. “And it meant a lot to me that you were willing to help out here today.”
When she started to draw back, he slipped his arm around her waist and held her close. “I was willing to do anything, so long as it meant spending some time with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I miss you. I didn’t even realize how much until I came home and saw you again.”
She’d missed him, too, which was exactly why she didn’t want to go down the same path again. “Spending time together is only going to make it harder when you leave again.”
“But you had a good time today, didn’t you?”
“I feel good about what we accomplished here,” she allowed.
“C’mon, Paige. Just admit you had a good time.”
“I had a good time.”
“Me, too,” he said, and smiled as he lowered his head toward her.
She lifted her hands to his chest. “What are you doing?”
“You kissed me,” he said. “Now it’s my turn to k
iss you.”
“It was just to thank you for helping out today.”
His mouth hovered just a fraction of an inch above hers. “Then you can consider this a thank-you for letting me help out,” he said, and captured her lips.
Paige knew she should pull away, because letting Sutter kiss her again was a tried-and-true recipe for heartbreak. But as soon as his mouth touched hers, all thoughts of resistance were forgotten. In that first moment of contact, she couldn’t seem to focus on any of the dozens of reasons that this was a bad idea. She could only think that this was exactly what she wanted.
Her eyes drifted shut; her body swayed toward him. His hands slid up her back, drawing her closer. He tilted her head back, deepened the kiss. The hands she’d lifted to hold him at a distance slid over his shoulders to toy with the soft, silky strands of hair that touched his collar.
He touched the tip of his tongue to her lips, delved inside when they parted for him. Her arms had wrapped around him and her breasts were crushed against his chest, her hips aligned with his. Despite the layers of clothes between them, she could feel the heat of his body, the imprint of his hands, the press of his erection. Heat rushed through her veins, pooled low in her belly.
There was definitely chemistry between them.
Very potent chemistry.
But as she’d reminded him the night of the election, the attraction between them had never been the issue. Right now, in the comfort of his arms, she had trouble remembering what the issue had been. What had come between them? And why had she ever let him go?
When he finally eased his lips from hers, they were both breathless. After a moment, he said, “Now that makes it official.”
She realized that she was still in his arms, her cheek resting against the warm flannel of his shirt so that she could feel the steady beat of his heart. She forced herself to take a step back. “Makes what official?”
“It’s not really a date unless it ends with a kiss,” he told her.
It was the perfect excuse to say goodbye and find her own way home. They’d spent the day together working at the school—not a traditional date by any stretch of the imagination, but he had allowed her to choose the venue—and now it was over.
