by Tracy Wolff
“Do you want to go to Greece?”
“No, silly. I don’t. I mean, I do, but not at the expense of selling this place.” Penny glanced around the room. “I complain about it a lot, but I have to admit, it’s growing on me. Besides, I’m not like you. I couldn’t take off and wander the globe until I found a place to fit in.”
“You wouldn’t have to wander the globe. You could come to L.A. You know Luke and I would love to have you move in with us.”
“And do what?”
“And be an accountant in L.A. That’s what you’re trained for and God knows, I could use a good CPA.”
“I’ll tell you what. You send me your stuff and I’ll be your CPA. But I think I’m going to stay here.”
“Why? What’s so special about this town?”
Penny bit her lip, and this time it was she who looked out the window. “Mom and Dad are here. I know you hate them—and you have every right to. The way they treated you growing up was—” She shook her head. “It was bad. But they were always good parents to me and now that Dad’s getting older and is needing help around the house more often, I don’t feel comfortable leaving.”
Paige hated the resentment that rose at her sister’s words, the pain that told her that her relationship with her parents was yet another bit of unfinished business. She should be glad that Penny was on good terms with their mom and dad, especially since it meant Paige didn’t have to worry about stepping in to help out.
But her dad was pushing seventy, though her mom was younger, and logically she knew the time to reconcile was limited. This summer might be her best opportunity to change the dynamic with her parents…or to let the relationship languish as it had. It was her call, but she wasn’t sure what she wanted. It was stupid to long for an emotional closeness she’d never had, but then again, wasn’t that what she’d found herself suddenly doing with Logan as well? Trying to rewrite history when she should be focusing on the here and now?
Nice to know age and responsibility weren’t enough to stop her from being a complete idiot. Not wanting to deal with her masochistic tendencies, she resumed painting, concentrating on rolling the yellow gloss over the walls as though it was the most important task she’d ever done.
As the minutes passed, she knew she needed to say something, knew that Penny was waiting anxiously for her to respond. But what to say? Most of the words that crawled through her were ugly, and, if she voiced them, would put Penny in an untenable position.
Or maybe not so untenable, she realized with dawning horror. Maybe Penny would tell her to get out. Would choose her parents the way everyone always had and leave Paige out in the cold.
She didn’t want that to happen, couldn’t let that happen. For the first time in recent memory, she craved the closeness and connection of family. Maybe it was too many years standing on her own. Maybe it was confronting Logan and this town and the ensuing changes to her life. Or maybe it didn’t matter why. It was sufficient to acknowledge she wanted—needed—her sister. So Paige had to suck things up. Again. Keep her mouth shut when what she really wanted to do was ask what it was about her that was so damn unlovable that no one ever chose her. No one ever stayed with her. Even Luke was drifting away, spellbound by his newfound father.
Her breathing sawed in and out, a little harsher than before.
“Paige? Are you okay?”
She tried to speak around the lump that had taken up residence there yet couldn’t. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Just worried about Luke.”
“Paige, I didn’t mean to upset—”
“I’m not upset. At least not with you. But if Logan doesn’t get my kid here soon, I’m going to lose my mind.”
There was a long silence, and Paige knew her sister was deciding whether or not to believe her. “Why don’t you call him?”
“I should. But I was trying to be good, trying to show him that I trust him with Luke.”
“Even though you don’t.”
“Exactly. But doubt and suspicion don’t exactly foster a decent relationship, so I’m trying, right?”
Penny shook her head. “You know you’re warped, don’t you?”
She meant it as a joke—or at least Paige thought she did—but that didn’t keep the words from hitting a little close to home. She felt like a freak here in Prospect, Oregon. Had always felt like one.
From the time she was young and realized that the way her parents treated her was very different than how they treated Penny, she’d known something was wrong with her. The way people whispered behind their hands when her mom took the two of them into town. The way she would catch her mother looking at her sometimes, as if she wanted to cry just because Paige existed.
It wasn’t exactly an idyllic way to grow up. And if it left her with trust issues, even after all this time, then she figured she was entitled to them.
It wasn’t until years later, when Penny was peeking at their mother’s diary—Paige would never have dared for fear of serious retaliation—that the two of them pieced together what had made Paige different. She was the daughter of an affair her mother had had while her father was serving overseas in the army. Her parents hated her because she was a tangible reminder of her mother’s infidelity, her brief relationship with a man who wasn’t her husband.
That was the day Paige had realized that no matter how good she was, no matter how many awards she won or how many A’s she brought home, she would never be good enough for her parents. And from that moment forward, her life had gone into a downward spiral that hadn’t ended until she was working as a waitress in L.A., going to night school and waiting for Luke to be born.
Her life had turned out all right—better than all right, thanks to her neighbor, Lucas, and his connections in the film industry—so maybe it was selfish of Paige to resent Penny’s good relationship with their parents. But she couldn’t help it.
She didn’t wish the same kind of childhood she had on Penny—she wouldn’t wish the verbal, emotional and sometimes physical abuse on anyone—but she did resent that her sister had seen it and still managed to maintain a relationship with their parents. Almost as if it was okay for them to hurt Paige, as long as they didn’t hurt Penny as well.
Hating the way she was feeling, Paige tried to shove all the negative emotions deep down inside, where she wouldn’t be forced to examine them anymore. It was hard, but she refused to waste her time being bitter over things she couldn’t change. It wasn’t as though she needed their approval to be happy.
“So, which bedroom are we painting next?” she asked Penny, determined not to drown in her own self-pity party.
Her sister latched on to the question like the conversational lifeboat it was. “I think we should do the blue room. The electricians finished in there yesterday, and I want to start pulling up the tile in the bathroom. If we can get the room painted, they can get in there and refinish the floor and we’ll actually have two fully complete guest rooms.”
“Minus furniture.”
“Well, yes, but I’ll take care of that when I’m in Portland tomorrow.”
“Woo-hoo. We are definitely making progress.”
Paige bent to load her roller with more paint, and as she did, she glanced outside for what had to be the three thousandth time. This time, however, Logan’s truck was making the trek up the long and winding road to the house.
“Luke’s home,” she said as she laid down her roller and headed for the door at close to a run.
With an effort, she unclenched her jaw, plastered a smile on her face that she was far from feeling. Just because she was out of sorts and annoyed didn’t mean that Luke had to be—or even that he had to know about it. She’d found one of the good things about children was that they were entirely self-absorbed most of the time. Hopefully he’d be too busy telling her about all the cool parts in the movie to wonder why she was a little off.
By the time she got her hands washed and got downstairs, Luke and Logan were hanging out on the porch. The
door was open and it was obvious that Luke had invited his father in. It was just as obvious that Logan had declined the invitation. She didn’t know if it was because he was in a hurry to leave or because she had yet to invite him into her sister’s house. Judging from the way he was lounging on the porch swing, she had a feeling it was the latter—and appreciated his restraint. She wasn’t sure she was ready to let him in any farther than the porch—literally or figuratively.
“So, how was the movie?” she asked as she walked outside, making sure to close the door behind her.
“It was great, Mom. Fabulous. The hero was supercool. He had all kinds of awesome powers, like he could get inside the bad guy’s mind and make him…” Luke filled her in about the movie, including its twists and turns and not-so-surprise ending.
When he finally wound down, Logan laughed and said, “I hope you weren’t planning on going to see it anytime soon.”
“Why would I, when I received such a wonderful plot summary right here?” She bent and brushed her lips over Luke’s soft, black curls. “Thanks, baby. You made me feel like I was right there in that theater with you.”
“That would have been cool. Dad let me get popcorn and candy and an Icee. It was awesome. And then we went to get a hamburger afterward. Because all those stunts really worked up my appetite.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really? You had an appetite after popcorn, candy and an Icee? Those must have been some stunts.”
Sensing danger, or at least the beginnings of a lecture on nutrition, she could almost see the wheels turning in her son’s head as he tried to figure out the best way to duck out on her. “They were. In fact, I think I’m kind of tired. I’m gonna go up to my room and rest for a while.” He turned to Logan. “Thanks, Dad. I had a lot of fun.” He wrapped his arms tightly around Logan’s waist and squeezed for all he was worth before scampering through the front door at close to a run.
Paige watched him go, a little surprised at the depths of emotion displayed in that hug. Seemed he was as susceptible to Logan’s charm as his mother always had been. Her heart hurt at the thought, enough so that she smiled at Logan for his part in making her child happy instead of laying into him for worrying her.
“Well, you’re certainly a big hit today,” she said lightly.
“I guess.” Logan shoved an uncomfortable hand through his hair. “I’m really sorry about being late. At first, I thought it’d only take about fifteen minutes to stop for burgers, but—”
“But Luke turned it into a three-ring circus?”
“Exactly. It took him almost ten minutes to order, and then he didn’t want to eat half as much as he wanted to play on the playset or mess with the toy that came with his meal.”
“And then, when you were ready to leave, he decided to suddenly get interested in his dinner, right?”
“Yeah!”
“Believe me, I know the drill. It’s a pretty common occurrence at our house.”
“I bet. Still, I should have called. It won’t happen again.”
She nodded. “Thanks for that.”
“He’s a great kid, Paige. I know I’ve said this before, but I’m so impressed with what you’ve done with him, all on your own.”
She felt herself flush with pleasure. “He is pretty wonderful, isn’t he?”
“Absolutely. And he talked about you constantly—everything was ‘Mom would like this, I wonder if Mom knows, Mom told me…’” He shrugged sheepishly. “It’s obvious that he thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.”
“Yeah, well, the feeling is entirely mutual.” She paused for a second, part of her wanting nothing more than to kick this guy to the curb. But she was smart enough to figure out that was her fear talking, because another, bigger part of her really wanted him to stick around for a while.
“So, do you want to hang out for a few minutes? Maybe have a glass of lemonade? I’m pretty much done with my half of the slave labor for the day.”
He glanced at his watch. “Normally I would be all over that. But I’m working tonight. I had to trade parole with one of my men in order to get tomorrow off for the carnival.”
She was glad that he had remembered something that Luke was so completely looking forward to, but it didn’t surprise her. When they’d been together, Logan had always remembered little things that made her happy, things that no one else would ever have paid attention to.
Despite her worries for her son, Paige felt her guard lower a little bit. She didn’t know many men would have made such an effort to be a part of their son’s life at this late date. It would have been easier for him to write Luke off, especially since Logan probably still planned to start a family some day. An eight-year-old kid with the town tramp had a tendency to mess with plans like that—particularly in a place like Prospect.
Maybe he had changed after all. It was a disconcerting thought, considering what it meant for Luke’s future—and her own. If Logan was really in this for the long haul, then she had to prepare herself for some major changes.
Surprisingly, that thought unfurled a little bud of hope deep inside her. One she’d thought had disappeared long ago. She didn’t know yet how she felt about that—the idea was even more frightening than the idea of having him in Luke’s life for the duration.
But she could take a lot if it meant Luke finally got the father he obviously wanted and so richly deserved.
“So, what do you say, Paige? Do you want to go to the carnival with Luke and me? It might be fun if we all go together?”
“I was planning on it. Managing a kid at a busy carnival takes some practice.”
“Right, of course.” He smiled. “Good. I was really hoping you’d come, not necessarily to manage Luke but that’s as good a reason as any if it means you’ll be our date.”
She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, or the way he was looking at her—as if he’d been able to read her thoughts earlier. And had agreed on them. That made her nervous, had her tripping over her tongue when she said, “I’m looking forward to going. It’s been a long time since I went to a carnival at the Prospect Fairgrounds.”
But as soon as the words were out, Paige wished she could recall them. Logan’s eyes had darkened to a gunmetal gray and she could see awareness in them. Could see the memory of that long-ago trip to the fairgrounds.
They’d only been dating for a little while when he’d taken her to the annual fair, and they’d barely been able to keep their hands off each other long enough for Logan to pay for their tickets. Once they’d gained admittance, Logan had dragged her through the entire carnival to the funhouse, refusing to stop to talk to any of his friends who called out to them.
Once they’d gotten to the attraction, he’d bought the requisite number of ride tickets, then had tossed them at the operator in his haste to get her inside, where they’d spent well over an hour making out in the dark corners of the shadowy structure.
The air between them now turned electric. With each breath she took, Paige felt as though she was drawing sparks into her lungs, little, shimmery shocks of electricity that skated along her nerve endings until her nipples ached and her core throbbed.
She wasn’t sure how much of the attraction was based on the memory and how much of it was because of the strong, handsome, virile man standing in front of her. The one who had taken such good care of her son.
For a minute they were in high school, before any bad stuff had happened. They’d been crazy about each other, and though she knew the past would never be the future, for one minute, she didn’t care. For one minute, all she wanted was to feel what it was like to be held by Logan, kissed by Logan, loved by Logan. None of the guys she’d ever been with had ever played her body half so well as he had, had paid attention to her every breath and whimper the way he had.
She wanted nothing more than to fling herself at him, to beg him to kiss her. To plead with him to make her feel the way he once had. It had been so long since a man had touched her, so long since
she’d let someone close to her, that the temptation to feel again—with him—was nearly overwhelming.
The heat in his eyes convinced her that Logan was feeling the same way, a fact that both scared and delighted her. She told herself to say good-night, told herself to retreat. This was dangerous ground. But she did neither. Remained there, pinned by the power and the passion in his molten silver eyes.
“Paige.” His voice was so low and rough she had to strain to understand each syllable he spoke. “Tell me to go.”
She swallowed, tried to speak, but her mouth was desert dry. She cleared her throat, tried again to no avail. Licked her lips, then gasped as she realized he was watching her tongue trace her bottom lip with the intense, focused concentration of a wild bird of prey.
Her heartbeat was a crazy, mixed-up symphony inside her.
Her breath came in a series of harsh, broken waves she could no longer control.
And her body, her crazy, desperate, out-of-control body was shaking like a junkie desperate for a fix.
The sensations were nothing new—Logan had always inspired this reaction in her—but it had been so long and things were so messed up between them that she didn’t know what to do.
Didn’t know how to react.
Didn’t know if she should stay or if she should run inside, bolting the door behind her.
In the end, she didn’t have to do anything, because Logan came for her. He stepped forward until his body was only inches from hers. So close that she could feel the heat radiating from him in waves and could smell the sweet, lemony scent of his breath.
She knew it was stupid to stand like this with him, knew it was insane to even think about opening herself up to Logan again. Yet there was something about him—had always been something about him—that drew her like a moth to a flame. No matter how determined she was that she wouldn’t get burned this time around, she found herself pulled in despite herself.
“Logan.” It was a whimper, a plea, though she didn’t have a clue what she was asking for.