He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling over. Looked her in the eye. It couldn’t be true. But even as he struggled with disbelief, in so many ways, it made sense. The way Darleen treated her as an afterthought. The way her dad stood by and did nothing about it.
“If that’s true, where’s your real mom?”
Paige lifted her shoulders. “She died when I was two. Dad talked Darleen into taking me in, and they moved here to start over.”
“She told you all this? Tonight?”
He wanted to throttle the woman. She couldn’t have waited until things had settled down? Until Paige was no longer caught up in a vortex of grief? But no. It had always been about Darleen. She couldn’t wait ten seconds after her husband died to spill the truth.
“I’m not hers,” Paige said softly. “She never even wanted me.” The forlorn sound of her voice plucked at his heartstrings. He tightened his arm, pulling her into his chest. He wanted to protect her from all this. He wanted to rewind time and stop Darleen from shooting off her mouth.
Even as he wanted to rail against Darleen, he mentally stepped into her shoes. Paige must’ve been a daily reminder of Donald’s betrayal. A bigger person could’ve separated the two, could’ve loved the child anyway. But they both knew Darleen wasn’t that person.
He clenched his jaw hard. Paige deserved so much better. And she sure hadn’t deserved to hear the news from a bitter woman who’d done nothing but make her feel like an outsider—and on the same day as her dad’s funeral.
It had always angered him that Paige’s dad didn’t stand up to Darleen. Not when she grounded Paige unfairly or when she gambled away Paige’s babysitting money. Now he knew why. Donald was living out a penance for his betrayal. But he hadn’t been the only one paying the price.
Paige started to pull away. “What’d you do with my bottle?”
“Shhh.” He tucked her back in tight. “You don’t need that now. I’m here.”
“My legs feel all tingly.”
“I know.” He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet, flowery scent of her.
He had to take care of her. There was no way she could go home like this. Darleen would ground her for a year. Shoot, she might even kick her out of the house now that Paige’s dad wasn’t there to stop her.
He’d have to bring her to his house. His dad wouldn’t be thrilled about her condition, but he wouldn’t turn her away.
The sun’s warmth was long gone, and Paige shivered as a cool breeze swept across the inlet. He rubbed her arms to warm her as he stared into the heavens. What would happen now that the truth was out? Would she even be welcome in her own home?
Help her, God. Remind her she’s loved. So much. He set his chin on her head.
A few minutes later her weight began to sag against him. He looked down to see her eyes had closed.
“Paige?”
“Mmmm.”
“Come on. It’s getting dark.”
She buried her face into his chest.
“Paige. We need to go.” He jostled her until she lifted her head. Then he stood and helped her to her feet, steadying her when she wobbled.
“Where we going?”
“My house.”
She didn’t argue as he led her to the truck or on the short drive back to his place. He called his dad on the way home and explained what had happened. When they got there, his dad opened the door, compassion in his eyes.
“Take her on up to your room. You can take the couch.”
Paige had grown quiet in the car, closing her eyes a lot, probably drifting off. She was still quiet as he led her up the stairs and turned into his room. The last bit of daylight filtered through the curtains, giving him enough light to see by. He bypassed the light switch and led her straight to his twin bed. She wavered on her feet as he pulled back the covers.
He unzipped her light jacket and helped her out of it. She wore a T-shirt and a pair of shorts that would be comfortable enough to sleep in. A moment later she flopped onto her back with a sigh. Her blond hair fanned out on his pillow, her lashes black shadows against her cheeks.
He slid her sandals from her feet and pulled the covers to her shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he whispered.
“Stay.” She grabbed his hand, her eyes flicking open. “Please? Just for a minute.”
He’d never been able to deny her anything. Certainly not after a day like today. He sank down on the edge of the bed, turning so his knee was propped near the pillow’s edge.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she said.
He tightened his hand on hers. “You’re not alone. Not ever.”
Her eyes grew glassy, and her breathing turned ragged. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Riley.” She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down. She held him against her chest, clamping her arms around his head.
Her heart thudded in his ear, the warmth of her skin pressing against his cheek. The sweet, flowery scent of her tugged at his senses.
Her hands moved sloppily over his head. “You’re a good friend, Callahan.”
Friend. He swallowed hard. It was difficult thinking in those terms with his face smashed up against her—
“You’re the only one who’s there for me. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You won’t have to find out, honey.” His words were garbled against her chest. He flattened his palms against the bed and pushed.
But she grabbed his face, holding him inches from her.
“Thank you.” Her eyes were smoky blue in the dim light. Her breath teased his lips an instant before she touched them with her own.
It was barely a brush. Soft and quick. And not nearly enough. Their breath mingled between them. His heart kicked against his ribs, his good judgment evaporating in a flood of want.
He lowered his mouth to hers one more time. Her lips were soft and yielding. Responsive. A thrill shot through him, and he brushed her lips again. Warmth surged through him, urging him to continue with his slow exploration.
She was kissing him back. The wonder of it kindled a fire deep inside that flared outward to the tips of his fingers. He trembled with hope.
Her fingers moved into his hair, stirring every follicle to life. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to stay here forever, kissing this girl.
He slowly became aware of the faint taste of alcohol on his lips. He remembered the bottle—almost empty. Guilt nagged at the edges of his conscience, pulling him further and further away from his most excellent dream until the distance brought clarity. Reason.
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 kno
w 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.
Chapter 19
Frumpy 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 s
aid ‘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.”
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