The rest of them couldn’t hide their smiles, but always followed up with an encouraging comment on how it would get better.
As the hours went by, she began to feel some prickling on her upper arms and elbows. She lowered the gun, returned the safety catch to its position, and looked down at her arms.
Her skin was slightly pink, and tiny bumps were beginning to form on her upper arms.
They would go away once she got out of the sun, provided that she didn’t scratch them.
“Time to go in?”
She handed the gun over to Justin and reached over to her arm, slapping it a few times. That was the only way she could stop herself from scratching. “Time to go in.”
She wanted to help, but Mrs. Seymour told her to leave the packing to Mr. Seymour and Justin.
Once inside the house, Mrs. Seymour gave her a glass of ice water and a wet face towel. “Put it over your arms, will that help?”
“Yes, thanks.” She gently wiped her arms, then pressed the towel against her skin. Slowly, she shifted the towel down the length of her arms. The water from the face towel took much of the heat away and the itch faded.
She took the face towel over to the laundry basket. “Thanks, Mrs. Seymour, you saved me a trip to the doc.”
“You need to see a doctor for being under the sun for too long? I thought you were in the track team.”
“I also have sensitive skin and absolutely no discipline when it comes to itch. Once the itch kicks in, I can’t stop scratching. Then, I know it’s in my head, but I’ll start feeling the itch all over and my scratching just gets out of hand.”
“You’re one of those who’ll scratch until you bleed.”
“Then I’ll scratch around that wound, but that was when I was younger. I have a tiny bit more discipline than before.”
“How does the doctor help? He ties your hands down?”
“Medicine. A tiny yellow pill that miraculously takes away all the itch.”
Mrs. Seymour laughed. “Are you serious? I didn’t even know such medicine existed.”
“Guess there are plenty of ill-disciplined people.”
“Are you talking behind my back?” Justin asked as he came up behind her. “How’s your sensitive skin, princess?”
“Fine, thank you,” she answered grudgingly.
Justin wrapped his arm over her waist and pulled her closer. “Kidding.”
When he was done packing up, the two of them returned to her house and he asked if she was feeling better. The moment she assured him that she was, he made her practice pulling the gun out from her bag.
He was incredibly patient but tremendously strict.
She tried out several different ways to hold her bag for easier access, then practiced pulling out the gun and releasing the safety catch.
Once they were done with that, Justin told her where to place the gun in the different rooms, reminding her to bring the gun along whenever she moved among the rooms, even the bathroom.
She thought that was rather extreme, but he’d explained it to her as the need to cultivate the habit of bringing the gun when she moved around.
Then finally, the opening of doors. Justin told her that he’d get her one of those doorbells with a camera so she would be able to see who was standing outside the door without having to look through the peephole.
She laughed as Justin proceeded to explain elementary safety rules such as not opening doors to strangers, leaving the chain on when speaking to people she didn’t know.
It wasn’t the first time she’d lived alone.
“What’s so funny?”
Paige shook her head and continued from where he had left off. “Always ask for ID and call the company or department to check if the person is who they claimed to be. Look out of the windows before opening the door to make sure no one is hiding from the view of the peep hole.” She stopped when Justin grinned. “I lived in New York before this, and you forget I’ve a ridiculously protective brother.”
“All right. If it’s someone you don’t know, always hold the gun in one of your hands. Keep it behind your back, not behind the door. In case the person push against it and knock the gun out of your hand.” He moved over to the couch. “Same treatment goes for Cole. Try not to let him in unless I’m around.”
When that was over, Justin asked if she wanted to get the grills for the windows and her backdoor.
She stretched her back, pulling her shoulders back and feeling the ache in her arms. “Can we do that tomorrow? I’m kind of tired.”
“All right, but you’ll stay at the Seymours tonight?”
She nodded and collapsed onto the couch.
“And you’ll practice bringing the gun around even in their house.”
She stared at him for a split second before nodding away. She was sure the Seymours wouldn’t mind. “Anything else?”
“You can do it you know. Even if your stalker turns up here, you can beat him.”
Paige gave him a small smile. She was grateful for all that he had done and all that he was intending to do for her, but she wasn’t sure if a pep talk would change anything.
“You’ve been letting him control your life. Truth is, you control his.”
She laughed dryly. “Right.”
“He’s obsessed with you. His moods are controlled by you or how you behave. His thoughts are consumed by you.”
“So you’re saying that I should stop seeing you and stop talking to any male species so as to keep my stalker from sending me hate mails?”
“No,” he said in all seriousness. “I’m saying that if your worst case scenario happens, if he does somehow get his hands on you, the control is yours. Think about that.” He gave her a peck on her forehead.
Justin always managed to present things so differently, and his points always seemed absolutely logical. She’d never thought of things between the stalker and her in such perspective.
“Can I think about it in my nap?” She yawned softly.
“At the Seymours,” Justin said.
“At the Seymours,” she agreed. “What are you going to do?”
“Go visit Travis?” he said with a shrug. “Remember the gun.” He placed the gun into the black box.
Justin walked her to the Seymours before giving her a peck on her lips and going back toward his car.
Mrs. Seymour grinned as Paige walked into the house. “Where’s your bodyguard?”
“Going to Travis’s.” She yawned again, her hands covering her mouth as she slumped onto the couch.
She didn’t think that shooting at targets could be so tiring. She pulled the black box onto her lap and opened it. “I’ve strict instructions to practice carrying the gun around with me. So don’t get frightened if you see me walking around with it.”
Mrs. Seymour laughed and gave her a pat on her lap. “My dear, you can tell him that you don’t want to do it. I can see you don’t really enjoy playing around with the guns.”
“That’s because I’m not good at it,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I’ll be fine with more practice.”
She wasn’t sure if having a gun around with her when she was about the house or outside would make any difference, but Justin had spent all morning teaching her how to use it, so she was going to practice as she promised.
Paige eyes flew opened when she heard the soft raps on the door.
“Paige?”
She ran her hand through her hair and sat up on the bed. “Yes?” she said as she stumbled off the bed and opened the door to see Mrs. Seymour standing outside.
“I think Cole is waiting for you outside your house.”
She took in a deep breath.
He was supposed to go back to New York. He was supposed to disappear and things were supposed to return to normal. Why was he still here?
“I’ll go talk to him.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
She smiled at Mrs. Seymour’s frown. “No, it’s fine.”
Mrs. Sey
mour nodded uncertainly. “Well, scream if you need anything.”
Justin must have said something about his suspicions to them.
“Don’t worry. He’s never hurt me before.” The line between Mrs. Seymour’s brows deepened, so Paige quickly added, “I’ll scream if I need help.”
“All right.” Mrs. Seymour went down the stairs, and Paige closed the door.
She changed out of her pajamas into a light blue T-shirt and beige shorts before heading out of the Seymours and toward her own house.
Cole was pacing on the front porch, pausing every now and then to pound on the door. He noticed her as she was halfway across.
He stopped pacing and waited for her as she went over. “Why aren’t you at your house?”
The words seemed demanding, but he’d asked it calmly enough. This was the Cole she knew.
“I was over at the Seymours.” She cringed slightly when she saw the bandage over his nose and the pink, purplish bruise that spread toward his eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you’ll be on your way home.”
“I’m not giving up,” he said as she stepped up her front porch.
He lifted his hand and Paige saw the familiar black velvet box he was holding.
Oh, no. She sighed and took a step away from him. “Cole—”
“I’ll do anything to get you back.” He reached over for her hand, seemingly trying to make her take the black velvet box.
She pulled her hand back, shaking her head violently. “No. You don’t understand. I don’t love you,” she spoke slowly, enunciating the last four words. “We are not getting back together.”
His lips twitched and curled up into a sneer that he removed almost immediately, returning to his usual composed self.
But that split second slip in his peaceful look was enough to unsettle her trust in Cole.
She looked over to the Seymours’ house and noticed Mrs. Seymour’s watchful eyes through the window.
Paige backed away from Cole. Before, she’d attributed his sudden outburst of anger to her getting over him so quickly, but his sneer made her wonder if his even-temper was simply a carefully controlled facade.
“You need me. I’ll make you see.”
She felt her arms go cold.
She shook her head and told herself that she was overreacting; Cole wouldn’t hurt her.
She opened her mouth to speak, intending to make him understand that there wasn’t any way they would end up together, but Cole took a large stride forward and roughly grabbed her hand.
He tightened his claw-like grip when she tried to pull her hand back.
Pressing the black velvet box into her palm, he seethed, “Keep this. You’ll be wearing it soon.”
That sounded very much like a threat to her, but threat didn’t work with her; not when she’d grown up dealing with overbearing guys who were easily twice his size.
She refused to close her hand over the box. When he let go, the box fell onto her deck.
Cole’s eyes were on the box, but he looked up at her when she spoke.
“I’m not keeping it. I won’t be wearing it—ever. You should leave.” She stepped aside, leaving the path down the steps open.
Again, the sneer appeared. But Cole was quick to switch it into a smile.
Paige’s hand clutched onto the deck railing and she squared her shoulders. She wasn’t going to let him scare her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and walked down the porch, not bothering to pick up the box.
“Everything all right?”
She looked over when she heard Justin’s voice and saw him walking toward her. Justin took a glimpse of her, then turned his focus to Cole.
Cole continued toward his car, striding past Justin as though he wasn’t there.
Justin glanced over his shoulder as Cole went by. He turned back to Paige with a frown. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” she said, looking at the box on the floor.
Justin picked it up as he stepped onto the porch. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Maybe the ring isn’t inside. He doesn’t seem to care that I let it drop to the ground.”
His brows drew closer. He flipped the box open and turned it around to face her. “I guess he was sure you’d pick it up.”
“He’s being so weird.” She took the box from him and closed it. Turning around, she placed it on the corner of her deck railing. “He seems absolutely convinced that I’ll get back with him.” Leaving the box on the railing, she stepped toward Justin and continued. “Maybe this will send the message.”
“You sure about that? It looks expensive.”
“Do you want me to keep it?”
“He made his bed.”
She laughed softly and went over to sit on the swinging chair. “Was it coincidence that you came over just as Cole was here?”
“Mrs. Seymour called me before she woke you up.”
“Aah, I see,” she said with a smile. She leaned onto his shoulder when he joined her on the chair. “How’s Amy?”
“Frustrated. The baby was due two weeks ago. She was dousing some chips with salsa sauce when I was there.”
They sat and continued chatting until Mr. Seymour called them over for dinner. That night, she stayed over at the Seymours again. Knowing that the Seymours were in the room next to hers and that Justin was on the couch downstairs was reassuring.
She moved over and stared at the gun she’d slotted behind the nightstand. She’d completely forgotten to bring it out with her.
Justin was right about making it a habit; something she would do tomorrow.
She switched off the lights and got into bed, praying that she wouldn’t be there when Cole found out where she’d left his ring.
Chapter Fifteen
Paige could hear Justin chatting with the Seymours as she was coming down the stairs, but stopped at the bottom of it when she saw him wearing a light gray shirt instead of the usual T-shirt and jeans.
“You look different.”
“I have to head down to Cheyenne today, going to view a couple of houses.”
“Oh,” she said.
He took a large step toward her with a grin. “You sound disappointed.”
“No, I’m not. I—”
He stopped her with a peck on her lips. “I was intending to ask you along. That’s if you want.”
“You kids going to Cheyenne? Bring something back for me?”
“Sure,” Justin answered without taking his eyes off her. “Are you coming?”
“Why not? We can go look at the grills for the windows, too.” She looked down at the shorts she was wearing. “I’ll go change,” she said, heading toward the door.
Justin grabbed her hand, holding her in place. “Later. Let’s eat first.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
Halfway through breakfast, there was a knock on the Seymour’s door.
Mrs. Seymour frowned and immediately looked over at Mr. Seymour. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No.” Mr. Seymour pushed his chair back.
“I’ll get it,” Justin stood before Mr. Seymour had to.
He strode over and opened the door. “What do you want?”
“Paige?”
Paige gave an audible sigh. She stood and hurried over, peering over Justin’s shoulder. She dropped back on her heel and laid her head against Justin’s back.
Cole didn’t just turn up again, he had to turn up with flowers; the specific type of flowers she hated.
“You weren’t at home, so I figured you might be here,” Cole said, again treating Justin as the invisible man.
“Is there something you need?” she asked impatiently. She couldn’t believe Cole would come knocking on the Seymours’ door to look for her.
“I brought you flowers.”
“I don’t want them. And your ring, I left it on the deck railing.”
“I saw. You should keep it properly; I don’t want to see you upset if it gets stolen.”
Paige’s hands flew to her face, her fingers splayed over her eyes. Dropping her hands, she stepped away from Justin’s back and stared at Cole. “Please, stop it. I’m not going to accept the ring. Not now, not five years from now, not ten years from now.”
“You will.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “No, I won’t. You don’t get it. I don’t love you. I don’t care if the ring gets stolen. Gosh, I’d probably write a thank-you note to the person for clearing it away from the railing.”
Cole looked away from her and down on the floor for a moment; the same moment the chilling sneer appeared. Clearing his throat, he continued as if Paige hadn’t said anything. “What are you doing today? I want to take you out for dinner tonight.”
“Are you deaf?” Justin asked. “She isn’t getting back with you. Get over it.”
He took a step back, pushing Paige along with him, and slammed the door close.
“He has serious issues.”
“Right, he was exactly like this yesterday,” she said, her hands still gesturing about in the air. “I thought I was being oversensitive.”
Justin took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She noticed him taking a deep breath through his nose before continuing. “Forget about him. Eat.” Pulling out the chair for her, he said, “Maybe he needs time.”
Her lips curled as she sat.
Justin could’ve jumped in and gone on about how Cole could be the stalker. Instead, he only tried to assure her that everything would be fine.
She turned to the door, half expecting Cole to come crashing in.
“He must’ve left.”
Paige returned her attention to the table, realizing that everyone had paused for the last few moments as well.
Once they were done with breakfast, Justin accompanied her home. The moment she stepped up on her porch, she saw the bouquet of deep red roses that Cole had left right in front of her door.
She rubbed her palms against her arms.
“Are you all right?” Justin pulled her closer against him.
“Initially, I felt horrible that he’d come all the way here for me. Now, I can’t help but think he’s punishing me for rejecting him. He knew I hated red roses. The stalker kept sending those to me.”
A Fresh Start Page 18
