He pushed her shirt farther up and stopped when it was up past her ribs. There on her left side was a tattoo of a sunflower.
“So that’s where the other one is,” he said, looking up at her.
“You found it.” She smiled.
“Hmm, I sure did,” he said before he bowed his head and traced the petals with his tongue. She was writhing beneath him, her legs coming up and wrapping around his back.
“Did you draw this?”
“Yes,” she said, more than somewhat breathless.
“So beautiful,” he said, kissing the center of the tattoo.
“Thank you, I—I really like how it turned out.”
“I meant you,” he said, moving up her body and pushing her shirt above her breasts. “All of you, Paige,” he said above her mouth.
She looked at him, breathing hard as she ran her hands up his shoulders. “You haven’t seen all of me yet,” she said, nipping at his mouth.
“Is that an invitation?” he asked as he ran his hand around to her back.
“Not quite. But the clasp is in the front,” she said before she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth.
Well, that was clearly an invitation. He brought both of his hands to the spot right between her breasts and opened her bra. The cups parted and he pulled his mouth from hers, moving back down her body.
Paige had perfect breasts. Absolutely perfect. And he had to taste them.
He closed his mouth over one of her nipples, sucking it deep into his mouth. The other breast he covered with his hand. Paige gasped and her legs tightened around him, her hips picking up rhythm.
“Brendan,” she said, moaning his name, long and loud.
God, she was killing him. He wanted desperately to crawl back up her body, pull her shorts and panties off, and bury himself inside of her. His body craved hers like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It was insane.
But she wasn’t ready for that step; at least she hadn’t informed him of any changes in her readiness. And he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to push, that he would be a patient man.
But damn, patience was going to kill him.
Brendan groaned and pulled back from her. He buried his face in her neck and tried desperately to find his bearings.
“Brendan?” Paige asked, running her hands up his back. “What’s wrong?”
What was wrong was that he wanted her so much it was physically painful. He’d taken more cold showers in the last two months than he’d ever taken in his life. Really, he didn’t even remember what hot water felt like anymore. The thing was, the cold showers were barely putting a dent into calming his need for her. It was all-consuming, all the time.
He pulled up and looked at her worried face. “Nothing’s wrong.” He smiled as he brushed her hair back. “Just needed a second,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers.
“A second for what?”
“To realize you aren’t a dream,” he said before he covered her mouth with his.
* * *
One night while snuggling on Brendan’s couch and watching TV, Abby called and demanded that Paige put Brendan on the phone.
“What are you going to say to him?” Paige asked, more than a little anxious.
“Just put him on the phone,” Abby practically screamed.
“Abby wants to talk to you,” Paige said, handing her phone over to Brendan.
“Hello,” he said with his calm, lazy drawl. He laughed and his eyes lit up as he looked at Paige. “I can promise you that will never happen,” he said as he reached out and started tracing a pattern of freckles on her knee. “Yes, I understand.” He nodded. “Yes,” he repeated a few more times. “It was nice talking to you too, Abby,” he said before he handed the phone back to Paige.
“What was that about?” Paige asked.
“I just had to tell him that if he ever hurt you, I would fly down there and he’d be walking funny for the rest of his life.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Paige said and laughed.
“I like him. He sounds sexy as hell.”
“Oh, believe me, he is,” Paige said as Brendan’s hand trailed up the inside of her thigh. He stopped moving up when his fingers brushed just underneath the hem of her shorts. She looked at him but he just gave her that mischievous look that he got, his fingers still moving in slow, torturous circles.
“So,” Brendan said when Paige hung up with Abby. “I’m your hot mechanic?” He smiled.
“Abby came up with that nickname.”
“I like it,” he said as he brushed his mouth along the nape of her neck. His stubble rasped against her skin giving her goose bumps.
“You like being known as the hot mechanic?” she asked as he moved up to nibble on her ear.
“No,” he whispered. “I like being known as yours.”
* * *
The second weekend in October, Jax and Shep dragged Brendan out to go deer hunting in north Georgia. They were leaving Friday afternoon and weren’t coming back until late Sunday night. Wherever they were going, there was no cell phone reception. Paige wasn’t used to not seeing Brendan every day let alone not talking to him. She wasn’t prepared for how much she missed him and by Sunday afternoon she was going stir-crazy.
“You okay?” Denise asked as they made dinner.
“I’m fine. Why?” Paige asked as she dropped a potato into the sink.
“Oh, no reason,” Denise said. “I’m just concerned that you might cut your finger off before the night’s over. I’ve never seen you this fidgety.”
“I’m not fidgety,” Paige said as she dropped yet another potato. “These are just slippery after you peel them.”
“Right,” Denise said skeptically. “That’s what’s wrong. It has nothing to do with not seeing your nice young man all weekend.”
“Maybe it has a little to do with that,” Paige conceded. “It’s just that it’s only been three days, and I feel a little pathetic that I miss him so much.”
“He makes you happy. You’re allowed to miss him.”
“I know but it’s just a little bit scary.”
“What’s scary?” Trevor asked as he walked into the kitchen.
“Brendan,” Paige said as she grabbed another potato.
Trevor stopped and looked at her from the other side of the counter. “Care to elaborate? Because that doesn’t inspire much confidence in the boy.”
“I’ve never fallen this hard this fast before. He’s…he’s more than I imagined a man could be.”
“And that’s scary?” Denise asked.
“It’s terrifying,” Paige said.
“Why?” Trevor asked.
“Because what if I’m wrong. I thought that Dylan was this great guy. And I was so wrong about him. And I feel more for Brendan after two and a half months than I did for Dylan after a year. I don’t think I could handle being wrong again. Not with him.”
“I don’t think you’re wrong about him,” Trevor said, rounding the counter. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side. “Putting yourself out there is always a scary thing and there’s always that fear that someone is going to hurt you. But if you deny yourself the possibility, you’re hurting only yourself. Brendan cares about you, Little Miss,” he said, kissing her temple. “He’s a good guy.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Paige whispered, turning her face up and placing a kiss on her father’s jaw.
“I only want you to be happy. And you’ve definitely been that since he’s been around.”
There was no denying it; Paige was happy. And even though Brendan had been the catalyst behind that change, it definitely had more to do than just with him. She had friends in Grace, Tara, Lula Mae, Pinky, Panky, Jax, Shep, Mel, and Harper. All of them were amazing and she enjoyed being with them. And despite all of the drama with Missy and Verna at work, she really liked her job.
There was no denying that it was incredibly sad working at a funeral home, to have to talk to the families who’d had a loved one mo
ve on. But there was some comfort that Paige got to tell their stories through pictures, through art. She created timelines of their lives, watching them grow up, fall in love, and just live. It was tragic and beautiful at the same time. More often than not, she found herself tearing up whenever a family got emotional while they watched the tributes.
That wasn’t to say that Paige wasn’t still completely freaked out by the whole corpse thing. She’d taken to calling the dead bodies situations and Tara made fun of Paige’s refusal to be alone in a room with one.
“It isn’t funny,” Paige had said the other day.
“It isn’t like Mr. Abernathy is going to pop up and say hello,” Tara had said, shaking her head as she’d walked into the viewing room with Paige so she could set up the projector.
“I know that. I just…They freak me out, okay? How do they not freak you out?”
“I’m used to it,” Tara had said, shrugging.
Paige hoped that there was never a day that she got used to dead bodies.
Paige had an early dinner with her parents that evening. She gave her stomach some time to digest her food before she went for a light run. The weather was starting to get cooler. The humidity was almost nonexistent on most days and a cold front had come in over the weekend, leaving the last couple of nights a little bit more than just nippy.
After her run, Paige took a hot shower to warm up, pulled on a thick pair of socks with her pajamas, and settled into bed to start a new book. At a little after ten, her phone beeped and she looked down to see a text message from Brendan.
You still up?
Yeah, you back yet?
Her phone beeped when the message sent, and then she heard a faint beep outside the French doors that led from her room into the backyard. A second later a faint knock rapped against the wood of the door.
“Paige,” she heard Brendan whisper.
Her stomach flew up into her throat and she scrambled out of bed. Her sock-covered feet slid on the hardwood floors. She pulled the yellow curtains to the side and peaked out the window just to make sure that it was Brendan in her parents’ backyard. He was standing there in a black hoodie with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans.
Paige flipped the dead bolt and opened the door. The chilly air breezed in and wrapped around her bare legs. His face split into a grin as he took her in. He pulled her into his big, warm body. His arms wrapped around her waist and his mouth landed hard on hers. She curled into him, letting her hands drift up under his sweatshirt to his bare skin.
“What are you doing?” he whispered against her mouth.
“Trying to keep warm,” she said, pressing her hands into his warmth.
“Maybe if you were wearing pants you’d be warm.”
Paige pulled back and looked down at herself. She was wearing an old baggy gray sweatshirt that fell about midthigh and a pair of baby-blue pajama shorts that just peaked out underneath it. She wiggled her toes that were encased in a thick pair of rainbow-striped socks.
“It’s not cold in my bed,” she said, looking back up at him.
“Is that an invitation?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, pinching his side. “It’s not cold inside the house. So I didn’t need to wear long pants.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining.” He grinned, letting his hands travel down to her bare thighs. “I’m pretty fond of these legs of yours.”
“Hmm,” she hummed. “What else are you fond of?”
“When it comes to you? Everything. God, I missed you,” he said, putting his mouth on hers again.
Her fingers dug into his back as she tried to hold on to him. She was about to melt into the floor. His mouth moved down to her neck, where he pressed his nose into her skin and inhaled deeply.
“What time did you get back?” she asked as he opened his mouth on her throat.
“About an hour ago.”
“What took you so long to get here?”
He pulled back and looked at her, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes. “So you missed me too?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Very much.”
“I went home to shower,” he said, bringing his hands up to the back of her head and pulling her hair down from the messy bun that she’d thrown it up in earlier.
“Had to wash off all of the deer urine?” Paige asked as he pulled his fingers through her hair.
“You don’t wear it. At least we don’t. You spray it on rags and hang them up in trees.”
“It still smells disgusting,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
Brendan laughed. “Yeah, it does, and so did I after not showering all weekend.”
“Well, you smell good now,” she said, pressing her nose into his throat.
He touched her chin, lightly pushing her mouth back to his, and then let his fingers delve into her hair. Paige had no idea how long they stood there like that, kissing in the moonlight, but when he pulled back they were both breathless.
“So, did you kill anything?” she asked, brushing her lips across his neck.
“Yeah, enough deer to last me all winter.”
“I’ve never eaten deer.”
“I’m going to make you some venison burgers. Once you’ve eaten those, you’re never going to want to eat beef again.”
“Mmm, you cooking for me? I’m always game for that,” she said as she moved her hands slowly up and down his back.
“I should go,” Brendan said, pressing his lips into her temple. “If I stay much longer, this is going to turn into more than just a kiss good night.”
“You’re right.” She sighed. “But I doubt I’m going to be able to fall asleep anytime soon. You’ve managed to get me all riled up,” she said, pulling her hands down from underneath his sweatshirt.
“Riled up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is that just another word for horny?”
Paige punched him in the shoulder.
“You know, I don’t have to take this abuse.”
“You’re the one who came here.”
“You’re right. I just can’t seem to stay away. I must be a masochist. Have lunch with me tomorrow,” he said, pushing her hair behind her ear.
“Pick me up at one?”
“If I can wait that long.”
“I think you’ll manage.”
“Only if you wear those socks,” he said, looking down at her feet. “Those things are awesome.”
“Shut up. I get cold feet sometimes.”
“Want me to warm them up?” he asked, letting his hands travel down to her butt.
“Okay, enough of that, mister,” she said, pulling his hands away. Before she could let go, he grabbed her hands and laced his fingers with hers.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, kissing her softly on the lips one last time before he let go of her.
“Tomorrow,” she said, watching him walk away.
* * *
Paige walked into Adams and Family on Monday to find everything in chaos. A pipe had burst in one of the bathrooms upstairs and had run through the ceiling and down an entire wall. The wallpaper in the hallway was peeling at the top and around the edges.
There were three men in the hallway talking to Mr. Adams. One looked to be in his late fifties, with thin graying hair and a slight belly peeking over the top of his jeans. The other two were younger, no more than thirty. One had shaggy beach-blond hair. The other guy’s hair was cut so close to his head that Paige couldn’t tell what color it was.
“Paige,” Mr. Adams said, waving her over. “This is Marlin Yance,” he said, indicating the older gentleman. “He owns the best construction company here in Mirabelle.”
“Nice to meet you,” Paige said, sticking out her hand.
“And this is Chad Sharp,” he said, indicating the blond. “And Bennett Hart,” he said, patting the man with the buzz cut on the back. “Bennett just got back from his final tour in Iraq.”
Paige shook both of their hands as
well. Bennett nodded silently, but Chad gave her a sly smile, his eyes traveling slowly down her body. She felt a small prickle at the back of her neck.
“You’re going to be seeing a lot of them in the next couple of weeks. That busted pipe has caused some major damage. We have to replace this whole wall.”
“What about the services?” Paige asked.
“We’re going to have to move them into the other parlor. We have only one service this week and it should be a small one.”
“Well, I’m going to go up to my office. It was nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you too,” Chad said, still watching her.
She didn’t like the way he was looking at her, especially that appreciative gleam in his eyes. It made her nervous, and just a little more than uncomfortable. She wanted to move out of his line of sight immediately. She stepped around them and headed for the kitchen, getting a cup of coffee. When she passed them on her way upstairs, she felt eyes on her again and the tiny prickle on the back of her neck got sharper.
* * *
Brendan showed up ten minutes early when he went to pick Paige up for lunch. He was surprised that he’d been able to last that long. If his impatience when it came to her was any indication, he was probably going to embarrass himself whenever they made it to bed. Hell, who was he kidding; he probably wouldn’t even get that far.
It had taken everything in him to walk away from Paige the night before. He’d thought about her the whole damn time he’d been gone, missing her so much it hurt. He’d seen her every single day for over two months, and going the whole weekend had been torture. If he’d touched her for even five more seconds, he’d have backed her up into her room and stretched her out on her bed. Or the floor. The floor would have worked just fine.
When Brendan walked through the front door of the funeral home, he was greeted with loud hammering and two men taking a wall apart. Their faces were covered with masks to prevent them from inhaling the dust that was flying around them. Brendan didn’t have to see their faces to know that it was Bennett Hart and Chad Sharp.
Bennett had been a year behind Brendan in high school. He’d played third base during Brendan’s junior and senior years and then enlisted in the air force as soon as he’d graduated from school. He’d spent almost eight years in the service, most of that in Iraq. In his last tour, he’d been shot down in a helicopter and almost died. Only one other man on the mission survived.
Undone Page 16