Undone

by Shannon Richard

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Paige shrugged. “It happens.”

  “So you moved here after that?” Harper asked.

  “No. I moved down here after my boyfriend and I broke up,” Paige said and glanced over at Brendan.

  She wasn’t sure why she’d just told them that. It wasn’t to make sure that Brendan knew she was single or anything. No, she would need him to know that only if she was interested in dating him. Which she wasn’t. Not at all. But Brendan didn’t say a word and she couldn’t read his expression because his sunglasses covered his eyes.

  “It seems you haven’t had the best of months,” Shep said as they all jumped to dodge a wave that would have slapped them in the face.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “But it’s getting better,” she said, unable to stop herself from looking at Brendan again.

  * * *

  Brendan’s mouth quirked. He couldn’t seem to help it when Paige was around. Something about her always made him want to smile. He was also ridiculously happy to hear that she was single. He’d been pretty sure she was, but now that she’d just confirmed it he was ecstatic.

  “So what kind of art do you do?” Jax asked.

  “Everything really. Painting is my passion, but for the advertising agency I did graphic art, but I didn’t enjoy that as much. And I also take pictures.”

  “I wish I was artistic,” Mel said. “But I was only ever good at math. That’s why I teach it now.”

  “What grade?” Paige asked

  “Ninth through twelfth. Mirabelle High School is pretty small.”

  “Go Pirates,” Shep said.

  “The boys all played baseball together. They won state their senior year and they still bask in the glory of it,” Grace said.

  “Hey,” Brendan said, pointing at Grace. “We’re still pretty good.”

  “Shmeh. You’re okay,” Grace said, shrugging her shoulders.

  “You better watch yourself, Princess,” Jax said to Grace. There was something about the way Jax said princess that caught Paige’s attention. It wasn’t a taunt at all. It was a term of endearment.

  “So do you guys still play?” Paige asked.

  “Yeah. There’s a county league,” Jax said. “Eighteen and older. I pitch, Shep is shortstop, and Brendan is the catcher.”

  “So you’re still good at catching things?” Paige asked Brendan.

  His mouth quirked again. Was that a challenge?

  “Things I want to catch,” Brendan said. And boy, did she fit firmly into that category.

  “They have a game this Saturday,” Mel said. “You should come.”

  “I just might.”

  “Are you a baseball fan?” Jax asked.

  “Every once in a while I’d go to some of the Phillies games with my friends.”

  “The Phillies are okay.” Jax nodded.

  “But not the best?” Paige asked.

  “Nope.” He grinned. “That would be the Yankees.”

  “No, that would be the Red Sox,” Grace said.

  “Oh great,” Mel mumbled. “They’ve started.”

  “Listen up, Princess. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, the Yankees are the best,” Jax started in on Grace.

  Harper rolled her eyes and turned to Paige. “We’ve heard this argument enough times to last a lifetime. We’re going to head in. I’ll take those for you,” she said, reaching for Paige and Brendan’s empty beer cans.

  Shep took Jax and Grace’s cans, neither of them even acknowledging him as they continued to argue with each other.

  “Look at who’s won more World Series,” Jax said.

  “Past winning doesn’t prove anything against current talent,” Grace snapped back.

  Brendan moved in closer to Paige as the others wadded to the shore.

  “Do they always do that?” Paige asked, glancing over at Jax and Grace, who were about three yards away and at full volume.

  “All the time.” He laughed. “Shep, Jax, and I have been fans since we were little. When Grace was six, she started rooting for the Red Sox just to spite us all. She and Jax tend to debate it. A lot.”

  “I can see,” Paige said, glancing over at them.

  “So what happened with you and your boyfriend?”

  “We broke up,” Paige said, turning back to Brendan. Her mouth turned down into a frown and he wanted to reach out and soothe her lips.

  “Yeah.” His eyebrows raised. “Why?”

  “It didn’t work out.”

  “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  “He didn’t love me.” She shrugged and looked out to the horizon.

  “Did you love him?”

  “I thought I did,” Paige said, looking back to Brendan. He couldn’t see her eyes past the dark lenses of her glasses, but there was something about the rest of her face that said pain.

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding and taking a step closer to her. “I know a little about that.”

  “Would that be Marty?” Paige asked.

  “How do you know about Marty?” he asked, confused. His lips formed a frown that mirrored hers. Thinking about Marty tended to make him scowl.

  “Grace and Lula Mae mentioned her and how Sydney hated her.”

  Brendan laughed. “Yeah, well they had a mutual dislike of each other.”

  “Did you love her?”

  “No.” He shook his head. He’d never been in love before.

  “What happened?”

  “She sailed off with some guy who promised to take her around the world in his boat. She came back six months later. Alone and broke.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty bad at the time, but I’m grateful it happened. She wasn’t the one,” he said simply.

  “I wish I was that levelheaded.”

  “Time heals all wounds,” he said sagely. Well, maybe not all wounds, but it had healed the whole thing with Marty.

  Paige laughed, and he felt it everywhere from his head down to his toes. He could listen to that laugh for a lifetime and never get tired of it. A wave came up and both of them jumped with it. Water splashed up around Paige and hit her in the face. Brendan moved in closer to her and pushed a strand of hair that clung to her cheek behind her ear.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. There was a moment where they just stared at each other before she dipped her chin. “What’s your tattoo of?” she asked, reaching for his left arm. She grabbed his elbow and he let her roll his arm to get a better look.

  “It’s an oak tree,” he said, trying to focus on anything besides her hands on his skin.

  He was unsuccessful.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, tracing the intricate branches with her fingertips.

  If he turned his head just a couple of inches, he’d be able to press his nose into her hair.

  Next thing Brendan knew he was underwater, Paige’s body firmly pressed against his. They had both lost their balance as the wave crashed down around them. Instinctively, Brendan wrapped his arms around her and pulled them up. She started coughing when they surfaced, her hands gripping his hips for balance.

  “You okay?” he asked, on the verge of losing his mind. He could feel every single one of her curves pressed up against his body. He blinked the salt out of his eyes and let go of her.

  She took a step back, pulling her sunglasses off her face and wiping her eyes.

  “Yeah.” She nodded, still coughing. When she caught her breath she looked up at him, her gray eyes wide with shock. “Sorry, I, uh…” She shook her head, still staring at him. “Thanks for pulling me up,” she said, putting her glasses back on.

  “No problem.”

  “I, uh, I’m going back up to the beach,” she said, backing away from him.

  “Okay.” He nodded.

  She turned around and practically ran out of the water. Brendan turned to see Grace and Jax staring at him—Grace with an excited smile, Jax with an exasperated shake of the head.

&nbs
p; Yup, Brendan was sinking fast and he didn’t even want to search for an escape hatch.

  Chapter Six

  Free Falling

  Paige woke up early on Monday morning to go running. She’d had to do something or she was going to go crazy. She’d barely slept the night before, tossing and turning and remembering what it felt like to be plastered up against Brendan’s body. After the wave incident, Paige had tried her hardest to act like a normal human being, but that was pretty much impossible. She couldn’t think clearly around him, couldn’t focus on anything but him when he was around. Every time he talked to her she had the urge to pounce on him and kiss him.

  Abby had been almost impossible on the phone.

  “You were plastered up against his wet, shirtless body? I want exact details, leave nothing out,” Abby had begged.

  “What’s with you? You need to get a boyfriend.”

  “I can’t. No time. Work has been crazy so I choose to live vicariously through you. So start with this tattooed bicep…”

  Yup, exactly what Paige needed, to think about Brendan in detail.

  At nine that morning, Paige stopped by the funeral home because she needed to tell Mr. Adams she was going to be driving around for the day and looking for pictures to take of the local scenery.

  “Good,” he said, going through a stack of papers. “We’re going to have services on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, so you’ll need to be able to put those tributes together.”

  Paige stopped by Tara’s desk on her way out for a short chat to go along with her morning cup of coffee.

  “You have a good weekend?” Tara asked.

  “Yeah, painted a little on Saturday and then I went to the beach with Grace and a few people on Sunday.”

  “One of them being Brendan?” Tara said, grinning.

  “Yes,” Paige said, trying to affect an air of nonchalance.

  “And?”

  “It was uneventful really. Very relaxing.”

  “Hmm,” Tara said, studying Paige’s face. “You’re really bad at lying. Just admit it already; you have the hots for him.”

  “Am I that obvious?” Paige asked pained.

  “I’ve seen you two together only the one time, but I could tell there was something there. And based on what Grace told me, it’s mutual. Apparently Brendan’s just as obvious. Grace said he couldn’t take his eyes off you the entire time you guys were at the beach.”

  It was suddenly very warm in the office. It must be the coffee. Yeah, the coffee was too warm.

  Just as Paige was contemplating grabbing a folder off Tara’s desk and fanning herself with it, the front door opened and she turned to see a yeti in flannel standing in the doorway. He had a long light brown beard growing past his chin and stretching down his chest. His bushy beard and mustache covered the entire lower half of his face. His hair was the same color as his beard and almost just as long. His ponytail reached down to the middle of his back.

  “Juris!” Tara said, standing up. “I’m so glad you got here in time,” she said excitedly. “Juris, this is Paige. Paige, this is my husband, Juris.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Paige said, sticking out her hand.

  “You too.” He nodded. He let go of her hand, gave Tara a quick kiss on the lips, and walked down the hallway.

  “He isn’t much of a talker,” Tara said with that dreamy look still in her eyes. “At least not with anyone but me.”

  “Some people are just shy,” Paige said, trying to be polite.

  “Yes, well, you have fun running around town today.”

  “I will,” Paige said, grabbing her purse and walking outside.

  * * *

  Paige decided to start with the beach. She’d spotted some shots the day before that she knew would be perfect. There was a large pile of beach wood that had been stacked in front of a patch of grass, the tall feathery stalks swaying in the wind. She took a couple of pictures of the lighthouse, and then climbed the stairs to the top to take some more pictures. She switched filters and angles with every couple of shots. She caught a flock of seagulls as they landed on the beach and stayed around long enough to watch them take off again.

  After about two hours on the beach, she drove to a park that sat on the water. There were oak trees covered in moss everywhere. The biggest one was isolated off to the side. The branches formed an odd pattern, making a crisscrossed heart on one side where they grew out of the trunk. The greenish-blue water of the ocean stretched out behind it.

  It was stunning.

  Paige got out of her Jeep and put the thick strap of her camera around her neck. She stared at the tree for a couple of minutes and tried to figure out how she wanted to capture it. She held the camera up to her eye, focusing in on the tree, and started snapping picture after picture. She stayed at it for almost thirty minutes, moving around the tree slowly. When she finished, she headed back to her car and noticed that the front right tire was flat.

  * * *

  “B.K., phone’s for you.”

  Brendan turned his head to see a pair of dirty work boots appear next to the car.

  “Can’t you see that I’m underneath a car?” Brendan asked, scooting out and looking up into Wallace’s face.

  “Yes, I can. But she specifically asked for you.”

  “She?” he asked, getting up so fast he almost banged his head on the bumper.

  “She didn’t give me a name,” Wallace called out as Brendan practically sprinted into the office.

  “This is Brendan,” he said, picking up the receiver.

  The other end of the line was silent before he heard a shaky intake of breath.

  “It’s Paige.”

  “What’s up?” he asked, unable to control the smile that quickly spread across his face.

  “I, uh, I have a flat tire.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Ocean Oak Park.”

  “And you don’t know how to change a flat?” he asked, trying not to sound amused.

  There was another moment of hesitation.

  “No. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be of any good to me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I don’t have a spare.”

  “I’ll be there in five,” he said and hung up the phone. He grabbed some sodas and a bag from the fridge. “Wallace, I’ll be back in an hour,” he said, walking out to his truck and throwing his stuff into the passenger seat. He jogged back to the shop and found a tire big enough to work for a spare for her Jeep and threw it into the bed of his truck.

  Things had a funny way of working out sometimes. All morning Brendan had been going over reasons that he could stop by the funeral home and see Paige, each excuse lamer than the last. But he was at the point where he didn’t care how lame he was. He liked her and he wanted to see her.

  * * *

  When Brendan pulled into the shade of the park he saw Paige sitting on top of a picnic table. She was staring down at the screen of her camera, biting the corner of her lip. She looked up at the tree and then back down to her camera, shaking her head. Brendan pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, grabbed his loot, and got out of his truck. When he slammed the door shut she looked over at him. She turned her camera off and shoved it into a bag that was on the table.

  “Hey,” she said, standing up and brushing the back of her orange dress down before she started walking toward him.

  “Hi,” he said, walking past her and sitting down on top of the picnic table.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, spinning around and looking at him. “My Jeep’s over there.”

  “Yes,” he said, grabbing a Coke and popping the top. “But lunch is over here.”

  “I thought you were going to change my flat,” she said, frowning.

  “I am, after I eat lunch. Care to join me?” he asked, patting the empty space next to him.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Paige, it’s almost one o’clock, so I’m going to eat. You can either stan
d there and watch me, or you can split this Cajun turkey sandwich that my grandmother made,” he said, taking the sandwich out of the bag.

  She shook her head and smiled.

  “You, Brendan King, are a whole mess of trouble,” she said, walking over to the bench and sitting down next to him.

  “Good choice,” he said handing her half. “What are you doing out here?” he asked, taking a bite of his half of the sandwich.

  “Taking pictures.”

  “For?”

  “The tribute program that Mr. Adams wants to start using during the memorial services. He wants to use local pictures instead of the stock pictures that are already in the program.”

  “That sounds like it’s right up your alley.”

  “It is actually,” she said, reaching for the other can of soda and popping the top.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “Why? That I could actually fit in around here? It does surprise me.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not used to this whole small-town thing, where everybody knows everybody and their business.”

  “Yeah, that’s one of the things about small towns that sucks,” he said, opening a bag of chips and holding it out for her.

  “You can say that again,” she said, reaching for a chip. “Why don’t you have oil stains on your hands? I thought all mechanics had oil stains.”

  “I wear gloves,” he said, grabbing a few chips for himself and popping them into his mouth.

  “Right.” She glanced down and frowned, reaching out for his arm.

  “The tree,” she whispered, grabbing his elbow and pushing up the sleeve of his shirt.

  Her soft, delicate fingers lightly traced the lines of his tattoo. It took only one simple touch from her for him to completely lose his mind again.

  “I knew I’d seen it somewhere.” She looked up to the oak tree in front of them and then back down to his arm. “Why do you have that tree tattooed on your arm?” she asked, looking up at him.

  She must have seen the heated look in his eyes because she let go of him and started blushing.

  “Sorry, I just…yesterday when I’d been looking at your tattoo, it just sort of fascinated me, and…and it’s that tree,” she said, pointing to the tree in front of them.