by Lori Wilde
“Not only will I own a yard, I’ll own the tree and flowers.” Diane groaned. “And the garage? Kyle said it's perfect for an SUV.”
With that, Diane broke into loud, hiccupping sobs. Paige hurried over to her friend.
“It's okay, Diane. You simply need to tell Kyle how you feel. Explain that you're not ready to own a house and drive an SUV.”
Diane continued to sob, although Paige noticed she didn't seem to have any real tears. Her friend was nothing if not theatrical.
“He really wants this. He says it's time we move our relationship to the next phase. But I like the phase we're in now. I like being a renter, not an owner.”
Paige patted Diane's hand. “He loves you. He wants to make a life with you.”
Diane gasped, then she looked at Paige. “You know what's next, don't you?”
Paige shook her head. “No. What's next?”
“Marriage,” Diane wailed. “He's going to want to get married.”
Maybe if she hadn't just been kissed to the point where she was weak at the knees, Paige would have understood Diane's concerns. But at the moment, having a great guy wanting to marry her didn't seem like such a terrible thing to Paige. Her only regret was that her life was so confused right now that she didn't know if getting involved with Max was fair to him.
She was going to have to give this some thought. As much as she might want to see where things went with Max, her life right now made that impossible. It wouldn't be fair to him to lead him on.
Diane had started sobbing again, so Paige patted her hand once more. “You've lived with Kyle for five years. It's like you're almost married now.”
“But marriage is different. When you're married, you can't simply walk when things get uncomfortable.”
“If you were going to walk out the first time things got uncomfortable, you would have left a long time ago,” Paige pointed out. “You must love him.”
“Of course I love him,” Diane said, wiping her hands across her face even though there were no tears. “Loving him isn't the point.”
“In that case, what does he say when you tell him you don't want a house and an SUV?”
Diane shrugged and looked away.
“You haven't told him, have you?” Paige asked, already knowing the answer to her question.
“He'll get upset,” Diane said. “And then he'll probably break up with me.”
“Of course he won't. He loves you.”
Diane looked heartbroken. “I think he does, but what if this is more important to him?”
Rather than dismissing her concern, Paige gave it serious thought. She certainly wasn't an expert on relationships by any means. After all, the man she’d agreed to marry had only been interested in using her for publicity. But still, just because she'd never been lucky enough to be in love with someone great like Diane was didn't mean she was clueless as to how that love should work.
“If it's that important to him, then you should want to find a compromise if you truly love him,” Paige finally said, certain her advice was correct.
“I guess. I mean I do want him to be happy. But what about my art? That's important to me, too, and I can't create in an environment like that. It won’t work. I’m going to have to break up with him.”
“Haven’t you been able to create art in the rental house? Owning that same house won’t change your creativity,” Paige reasoned. “You haven't even tried. You're simply giving up.”
As she said the words, Paige realized she was doing the same thing. She was immediately assuming she couldn't see where things went with Max because of the way her life was right now.
But was that necessarily true or was she simply giving up?
“What if I agree to buy the house, and after we own it, I can't create?” Diane asked.
“What if you can create so much more than you can now?” Paige warmed to her topic. “You’re currently only using the garage as a studio, but once you own the house, you can use one of the bedrooms as your studio. It will be temperature controlled.”
Diane's expression brightened a little. “I could use a temperature-controlled studio. Right now, all my things are smushed into that corner of the garage, and half the time it is too hot or too cold to work. It would be nice to have dedicated space.”
“It would, wouldn't it?” Paige grinned. “I bet Kyle was thinking along those lines. I bet he intended all along to make one of the rooms a studio for you.”
“He does keep telling me the small bedroom has a great view and wonderful light.”
“See? He's thinking of you.”
She smiled. “I'm a nut, aren't I?”
“Yes. You are,” Paige teased. “But that's what I like about you, and what Kyle loves about you.”
“I guess I have to be open to new experiences,” Diane said. “And explore all my options.” She giggled. “Quick, what's another cliché I can use?”
“Love makes all things possible?” Paige offered.
Diane bobbed her head. “Good one. Okay, I'll go talk this over with Kyle.”
“That's the best idea.”
Diane unwound herself from the couch, then hugged Paige. “Thanks for listening to me. And don't forget, we still need to find a good mango for you.”
Paige laughed. “I'm fine, thanks, though.”
Diane was heading for the door, but she stopped and looked at Paige. “After I talk things through with Kyle, I'll ask him if he knows anyone for you. I bet he does.”
“Don't,” Paige told her friend, but the other woman kept walking, so she knew Diane hadn't listened to her.
It didn't matter anyway, because she had no intention of letting Diane and Kyle set her up.
If she wanted to get involved with someone, she already knew who she'd pick—now all she had to decide was if she should.
Max glanced across the truck at Paige. It had been two days since their kiss, and she was acting weird. Very weird. All night at work, she'd kept smiling at him and laughing at everything he said. He had a bad feeling about this. Whatever was making Paige act this way couldn't be good—not for a man trying to do his job.
And certainly not for a man trying to keep his hands to himself.
“Thanks again for the ride home,” Paige said. The slightly breathy hitch to her voice made Max frown.
“No problem. I wanted to talk to you, anyway.” He cleared his throat, trying to think of yet another way to say what he'd said before—the kiss notwithstanding, they couldn't get involved.
Paige laughed. “You sound so serious.”
He frowned even more. “I am serious, Paige. I know we kind of—” He cleared his throat again. “I mean I know we had a great kiss a couple of days ago, but that's all it was. One kiss. It didn't mean anything.”
“I know. I wasn't expecting a declaration of love.”
That was good. “Oh. Good.”
“I have a lot going on in my life right now, and even though I'm attracted to you, now isn't the best time for me to get involved with someone.”
He couldn't agree more. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“You, too, what?” she asked.
He hadn't thought that far ahead. He scrambled for an explanation. “I just moved to town, started a new job. I'm not looking to get involved now.”
He glanced over at Paige. Good. They agreed on this. That was a relief.
“I completely understand,” she said. And for a few minutes, neither of them said a word. When she did finally speak, all she said was, “The kiss was great, though.”
He'd been hoping not to talk about it. “Yeah. Great. But wrong.”
“Hmm.” She was looking out the window, and that soft murmur of agreement she'd made didn't do a thing to calm his nerves. She was thinking about the kiss. Reliving it. He knew it. And the longer she sat there saying nothing, the more the kiss played back in his mind, too.
Yeah, it had been a good one. A really good one.
“Whoa, don't forget to turn here,” she said,
interrupting his thoughts. “My rental house is down this street, remember?”
Max made the turn without really thinking. Man, he needed to get a grip. Forcing all thought of the kiss out of his unruly mind, he said, “I'll get your tire fixed tomorrow. Sorry it’s taking so long.”
“I can get it replaced myself,” she said. “I’m completely capable of handling it. The shop had to order the new tire, and they just got it in. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“I don't know, Paige. I'm still struggling with those Neanderthal impulses,” he teased, trying to change the mood in the car. “Maybe you should let me do this one last macho thing.”
She laughed. “Now how will that help? If you do this, it will only reinforce that macho side of your personality. You need to overcome this problem.”
The lady had a point. “Okay, how about we compromise, and we do it together? I can meet you here first thing in the morning, and we'll handle your car together. That way, I'll still be helping without doing it myself. This could end up being a major step in my psychological development.”
Paige laughed again. “Fine. If you feel you need this so your psyche doesn't suffer—”
“And I do.”
“Then it would be mean to deny you.”
Max pulled into her driveway. “Thanks. You're a real friend.”
He parked the truck, then without asking, climbed out. Although he was starting to think things had calmed down, he knew they still had to watch for sneak attacks by the press. He couldn't forget his reason for being here.
He headed over to the other side of the truck, intending to open the door for Paige, but she'd already climbed out. She made no comment as she headed toward the stairs. Looked like the whole kiss subject was behind them.
As they walked, Max once again found himself admiring the gentle sway to Paige's hips as she climbed the stairs in front of him. He tried to look away. Tried to think about something else. Tried not to let it turn him on.
But it didn't work. He couldn't help imagining sliding his hands around her hips and pulling her close. He'd snuggle her close, then he'd lean down and nibble on her oh-so-sexy neck.
“Door.”
Max felt like he'd slammed into a brick wall. He shook his head, trying to get out the image that had lodged there. He realized Paige was staring at him, a puzzled look on her face.
“We’re at my front door,” she said, obviously not for the first time.
With effort, Max pulled himself together. What was wrong with him? He had to stop having sex fantasies about this woman.
He glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough. They were standing directly outside her front door.
“Let me open the door for you,” he said. She probably thought that was his way of inviting himself inside, but it was actually his way of checking out her place.
She sighed. “You know, there’s not a lot of difference between being gallant and being sexist.”
“Humor me,” he said. Max looked at her huge purse. “Can you find the keys in your purse?”
Paige dangled them in front of him. “I had them ready before we got out of the truck. I have a compartment I put them in so I can find them quickly.”
“I don't own enough stuff to fill that purse,” he said dryly.
His comment made her laugh, a sound he could get used to hearing.
“I subscribe to the be prepared philosophy. I have makeup, tools, my wallet, cell phone.” She pulled out a canister. “Pepper spray.”
Max took a half step back. “Keep it away from me. That stuff is evil.”
“That's the point,” she said. “I want to be able to defend myself.”
“Be careful,” he said. “Make sure you don't wind up on the receiving end of that stuff.”
“Okay.” She nodded toward the door. “You going to let me unlock the door, or would you rather kick it in as a display of your macho prowess?”
Max chuckled, enjoying himself more than he should. He really liked Paige, and it bothered him how much she was going to hate him once she found out who he really was. “Fine. Unlock it. But where’s the fun in that?”
As she unlocked the door, he studied her keychain. He'd barely noticed it the other night, but it was huge. She had all sorts of things hanging off it. A plastic four-leaf clover. A small silver horseshoe. A tiny wishing well.
“Think you've got enough things on your keychain?” he teased. Then added, “You could use that as a weapon. Hit an attacker in the face, and it will knock him out for a couple of hours.”
Paige groaned. “Very funny. They’re my good luck charms. Whenever I come across something that claims to be lucky, I add it to my key chain.”
He raised one eyebrow and studied her pretty face in the bright light from the lamp by her door. He felt something tug at him, some emotion he didn't want to think about, didn't want to even consider.
But it was there, and it unnerved him. He cleared his throat and focused on the key chain instead. “So has it brought you luck?”
“Not yet,” she admitted with a self-conscious laugh. “But I keep hoping one day I'll find the right charm, and then my luck will change.”
Although he knew why good luck was so important to Paige, he pretended to be curious. “What's so terrible about your luck? Seems to me you're doing okay.”
He watched as she debated what to say. He surprised himself by hoping she'd tell him the truth, but even though he knew Paige had come to trust him, he doubted she’d tell him.
When she did finally answer, she only said, “Doesn't everyone wish they had good luck?” Then she selected one of the keys and unlocked the front door.
As she opened the front door and turned off the alarm, Max told himself to find a way to keep himself focused. To keep his mind off how much he wanted to touch her, how much he wanted to kiss her again.
“Do you want to come inside?” She smiled softly. “I promise I won't attack you with my pepper spray.”
That was the least of his worries. The job required him to keep an eye on her, and this was the perfect opportunity to go inside and check things out. His fear was his libido would be too interested in checking out other things than just her house.
Realizing she was waiting for his answer, he steeled his resolve and said, “Okay. Sure.” Then he added more for his own benefit than for hers, “But only for a couple of minutes.”
He followed her inside and looked around. He didn't want to make her suspicious, but he did want to make certain her apartment was safe. A light-pink flush tinted her face, and Max frowned. Why was she being so friendly? Surely she didn't think he'd make love to her just because they'd kissed?
“Want something to drink?” She smiled a sexy little smile.
“Paige, I thought you understood that the kiss was a mistake,” he said.
She walked by him to the kitchen. “Calm down, I'm not going to jump you. We're friends. I'm just being friendly.”
He wasn't too sure about that. Her tone sounded normal and casual, but that smile. That smile meant trouble.
He needed to get out of here before something bad happened.
“I probably should head on home,” he said.
Paige didn't seem the least upset by his announcement. “You could stick around for a while, and we could go over some ideas for the festival.”
Max ran a tired hand across his face. “I'd forgotten about that.”
“Hal and Alma haven't,” she said. “Every time I'm anywhere near one of them, he or she grabs me and asks me how it's coming. I've been thinking about it, and I feel we should do something different.”
Max glanced at the front door. So close yet so far away. “Different from their usual debauchery? Sounds good to me.”
Paige laughed, the sound light and free. “Yes. I'm not interested in doing anything they suggested.”
She ran across the room and picked up a notebook. Obviously, she'd given this some thought. Max felt guilty about that. He'd forgotten all about this stupi
d festival.
Walking toward him, Paige flipped open the notebook. “I've been thinking—this festival is about Honey, right? About living in this small town and being part of the city of Honey.”
“I guess.”
“So what better way to make it about living in Honey than by getting the charities that operate in and around the city involved?”
She said this with a flourish, and Max chuckled.
“I'm lost,” he admitted. “The way Hal and Alma explained it, the festival sounds like a get drunk and party kind of thing.”
“That's in the past.” She flipped to a page in the middle of the notebook, then set it on the table in the hall. “See, this is what I have in mind. All the local charities I've called so far are interested. They should pick up some donations; we should draw a big crowd for the Honey Café, and everyone should be happy.”
Max glanced at the diagram she'd carefully drawn in her notebook. Paige was putting together some sort of carnival or arcade thing where the charities had games for people to play. He reached out and flipped through the notebook. There were pages and pages of drawings and research. She'd put a ton of work into this.
“Wow. You've really worked hard,” he said. “I think it sounds great.”
She flashed a dazzling smile at him, and Max felt like he'd taken a hit to the solar plexus. Paige made him feel things he'd never felt before, never thought he'd feel.
He cleared his throat and looked away. “Bet Hal and Alma will be surprised.”
“Let's not tell them. They may want to change it, and I'm not interested in doing the kind of festival they've had before.”
“Sounds smart.” Max shut the book and turned to face her. “How can I help?”
“I need some more charities called, prizes secured, and flyers printed.”
“Okay.” He looked longingly at the front door again. He needed to get out of here now. “You've done a great job, Paige. You should be proud of yourself.”
“You know something? I am,” she said with a self-conscious laugh. “I've been caught up with my own problems for a long time, and it felt good to focus on something else.”