I just don’t know why she wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me that. I could help her.
“Something interesting out there?” Paige says from behind me.
Swiveling around in my chair, I see her leaning against my doorway, her hair a little messy from the rain, her jeans and T-shirt slightly wet. God, she’s beautiful. What could be so terrible that she can’t tell me? She let me think she was a “working girl.” She let me think she was with my dad. She told me about how she grew up. What is worse than all that?
“Jon gave me his key card to get in,” she says softly. “I hope that is okay.”
“Where’s Finn?” I ask, standing up but not going to her.
“He fell asleep on the car ride back from the ranch. Jon’s circling the block with him. I wanted to see you.”
I toss my phone down on my desk. “I have a security app on my phone. You can check it. You’ll see I’ve logged in twice since I’ve known you. The first night I hired you and . . .”
“I don’t need to check some app,” she says, stepping closer. “I’m sorry.”
I take a deep breath, almost wishing I could be mad at her. Turning my laptop toward her, I say, “And just so you know, I was Googling you.”
“Don’t think I have much of a footprint in cyberspace,” she says.
“That by design?” I ask.
All I get is a shrug.
“You have to tell me something. Let me in. At least a little bit,” I say.
“I have,” she says.
“You have to give me something more, Paige.”
“I’m giving you my love,” she says, stepping closer to me, her eyes welling up. “My body, Finn. Can that be enough?”
If anyone knows how hard it is to let someone love you after you’ve been through hell, it’s me, but I’m greedy when it comes to Paige. I want all of her—now.
She clears her throat, sucking back in all her emotions. Her posture straightens, and she looks me right in the eye, asking, “Do you want me to go?”
What the hell kind of question is that? She honestly doesn’t seem to know what it means to have someone love you. Love sticks, and it doesn’t go away the first time the person pisses you off. I know that better than anyone. No matter the terrible things my father did, I’ve always loved him, despite himself and despite the fact that I don’t want to.
“Don’t ever ask me that question again,” I say, taking her hand. “The answer will always be the same.”
Looking down at our joined hands, she says, “I wasn’t mad about the security cameras.”
“Could have fooled me,” I tease, pushing her hair off her face.
She takes a huge breath. “Even though I was taken from my mom when I was a teenager, I still snuck out and visited her, took her food or money if I had any. She wasn’t a great mom, but she still was my mom. She was the only family I had. No matter how terrible things were.” She looks up at me. “Does that make sense?”
Love sticks.
Even if it shouldn’t, love sticks. Even if the person neglected or abused you, love is hard to walk away from, especially between a mother and her child. Nodding, I say, “So you stayed in touch even after she lost custody of you?”
“On and off. I’d try to stay away, but something would always pull me back.”
“Like Finn,” I say. She nods. Even though there’s a shit ton more I want to know, I realize this is how I’m going to have to get to know Paige—in bits and pieces, like a trail of breadcrumbs that hopefully leads me to the whole story.
These are the broken, beautiful bits and pieces that make up the woman I love.
“Did you ever talk to anyone? Get counseling? You went through hell.”
“When I was in college, they had free services, so I went. It helped. But there’s a bond between a mother and child that’s hard to break.”
I know that better than anyone. “Anything else?” I ask, hoping to gather another piece of her.
“Eloise,” she says, cracking a smile. “My middle name is Eloise.”
*
Paige is out like a light. For someone who struggled with insomnia at the ranch, she sure is making up for it now. I wish the same was true for Finn. I’ve heard him over the monitor twice already tonight, and it’s only one in the morning. It’s not like him to be so fussy. Paige got up with him the first time, so I guess it’s my turn. She didn’t say that, but it only seems fair.
Stumbling through the darkness, I push open the door to his room. He’s sitting up, wailing. “What’s wrong, buddy?” As soon as I reach for him, I feel it. I can feel the heat radiating off him before I even touch him. He’s burning up. “Paige!” I yell. I’ve gotten good at feeding Finn, playing, even changing diapers isn’t a big deal, but a sick baby is out of the realm of my wheelhouse. “Paige!” I yell again, rushing down the hallway with Finn in my arms.
Paige is already out of bed and on her feet. “What is it?”
Handing her to him, I say, “He cried, so I went to get him, and he’s really hot.”
She rests her cheek on his forehead. “I don’t have a thermometer here. I forgot to pack it. It’s still at the ranch.”
“Can you give him some medicine?” I ask. “Do you have anything?”
“I do, but . . .” She feels his forehead again, this time with the inside of her wrist. “I think we need to go to the emergency room.”
Paige grabs the diaper bag, not even bothering to get herself dressed. She just throws on some shoes. We’re out the door in under two minutes flat. It’s like I go on autopilot, driving toward the local children’s hospital. How the hell I even knew where the children’s hospital is, I have no idea.
Finn is screaming his lungs out in the back seat while Paige holds him tight, trying to soothe him. It’s killing me that he’s not in his car seat. Paige isn’t even buckled up, but I know better than to say anything to her right now. She’s in full-on momma mode.
I drive like a bat out of hell to the emergency room, pulling my car right up to the door, like my Land Rover is suddenly an ambulance. Sirens or not, this is an emergency. They can tow me. I’ll pay the ticket. I don’t care.
Hurrying around to the side, I help Paige and Finn out of the back seat. We hustle to the front desk, and I swear to God, every kid in Nashville is sick tonight. The place is mobbed. I’m not going to have Finn wait for medical care. I get a nurse’s attention, and she comes out from behind the desk, quickly looking at Finn and listening to his chest. “He’s really hot,” Paige says, looking at me.
The nurse smiles at her. “I see that. Let’s get you checked in, and a doctor will be with you as soon as we can.”
“How long?” Paige asks. “Finn isn’t a crier. Something’s not right.”
“Poor little guy isn’t feeling well,” the nurse says, motioning toward the desk to check in. “We’re busy tonight, but we’ll see him as soon as we can.”
One look from Paige, and I can tell she’s about to lose her shit on this woman. I beat her to it, though. “Now,” I bark. “I want him seen now.”
The whole room stops. No one moves. No one speaks. Hell, I’m not sure if anyone is even breathing. “Sir, I know you’re worried, but he’s crying. His airway is open. His heart and lungs sound clear. He . . .”
“He’s in pain!” I snap. “Is that not high enough on your list of priorities?”
Paige touches my arm, her eyes flying to a security guard, whose eyes are now glued on us. The nurse raises her eyebrows at us as if to ask if we’re all good, and Paige gives her a little nod. The nurse steps away while we are left with a screaming baby to wait in line.
“Fuck this,” I say, pulling out my phone. “I have to know someone who works at this damn hospital and can pull some strings.” My mind is racing, trying to come up with something. Between Jon and I, we know a lot of people, lawyers, police officers, congressmen, singers, but not one pediatric doctor comes to mind.
Finn lets out another deafening scream. “Slad
e?” Paige pleads.
A woman in front of us turns around—her child covered in vomit. “First kid?” she asks.
“Yes,” Paige says.
“First is always the hardest.” She leans a little closer and peeks at Finn. “He’s adorable. I’ve got five. All boys. I’m here every other week. I’ve seen it all. Odds are, it’s nothing serious.”
“Thank you,” Paige says, forcing a smile.
“These things always seem to happen in the middle of the night,” the kind stranger says.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Paige and step a few feet away. Close enough that I can still see her if she needs me, but far enough away that she won’t know what I’m about to do. I look over at Paige, still chatting with the vomit-covered kid’s mom. Somehow, she now looks calmer. This woman is an angel.
I can’t remember the last time I dialed this number. The last time I asked him for anything. He answers almost immediately. For a second, I hesitate, but one more look at Paige and Finn, and the choice is clear. There really isn’t a choice.
“Dad?”
I also don’t remember the last time I called him that. I can hear the worried edge in his voice. “Slade? What is it?”
As quick as I can, I explain the situation. I think the whole phone call is under two minutes. Sure enough, my dad knows the head of some department here. I knew if I didn’t know someone, he would. I thank him, and that’s that.
Stepping back over to Paige, I rub both her and Finn’s backs. A phone rings behind the desk, and the nurse’s eyes fly to me. Checkmate!
Paige catches the look, too. “What did you do?” she whispers.
I just shake my head. I’ll tell her later. The nurse comes over with a clipboard. “We have a room for you.”
Paige’s eyes fly to me. “Thank you.”
“Good luck,” the lady in front of us says.
“Her, too,” I tell the nurse, nodding my head toward the stranger in front of us. “I’m sure you have a room for her, too.”
*
I don’t feel the least bit guilty about skipping the line and jumping ahead. Everyone else in that waiting room would’ve done the same thing for their own kid if they could. If it were me, I would’ve happily waited, but when it comes to the people I love, I don’t give a damn who I cut in front of in line.
Finn lays in Paige’s arms, quietly whimpering. “An ear infection,” she says, shaking her head. “I can’t believe it’s just an ear infection.” She kisses Finn’s head. “I feel so stupid. The lady was right. First-timers, all the way. I totally overreacted. I’ve just never heard him cry like that.”
“It’s good we brought him,” I say, rubbing the heart-covered bandage that covers the spot where they drew blood. That wasn’t fun, but Paige wanted to be absolutely sure nothing else was wrong. My mom had the same tendency to worry, so I get it. The doctor appeased her, as well, pointing out that her medical degree doesn’t hold a candle to a mother’s intuition.
“And you?” she says, grinning. “Took the overprotective thing to a whole new level.” Her smile lets me know she appreciates it, no matter how over the top I was. She reaches out for my hand, and I lean down, giving her a soft kiss. “Thank you,” she says. “But how’d you pull it off? Who’d you call?”
“My dad,” I say, sitting down beside them.
She sits up straighter. “You called your dad?”
“I couldn’t think of anyone I knew who worked here. I knew he’d know someone who could help.”
“I know that couldn’t have been easy for you,” she says.
“I’d do anything for you,” I say, looking down at Finn. “And him.”
She leans over, kissing me slowly, her soft lips parting. Her tongue meets mine, and the stress of the night falls away. Something about the way she’s kissing me tells me if we weren’t in an emergency room, she’d be on her back. And her rule of going slowly would be out the window. “I love you,” she moans between kisses.
“Uh-hum.” The nurse clears her throat as she enters the room, forcing us apart. “The doctor says you can go. Just need you to fill out the paperwork that didn’t initially get filled out,” she says, tossing me a look.
I take Finn as the nurse hands Paige the papers and gives her discharge instructions for Finn’s medication. He’s still uncomfortable, but his fever has come down some. They gave him a dose of an antibiotic and something for his fever, so hopefully, we all can get some rest when we get home.
“License and insurance card?” the nurse asks. Paige reaches into her purse, handing them to the nurse, who goes to make copies while Paige finally fills out the forms.
“Make sure to add me as an emergency contact,” I say, looking down at Finn in my arms. Since I’ve known Paige, I’ve been scared out of my mind twice. First the tornado, and now this. Is love usually this damn frightening? I heard someone say once being married increases one’s life expectancy—I’d need to see more research on that.
For the first time, I think about what my dad lost when he lost my mom. It would be like if I lost Paige. I can’t imagine it. I can’t imagine I’d respond like he did, but grief is a funny thing. I don’t even want to think about what my life would look like without her and Finn in it. Not that long ago, I was happy living the single life, but now I wouldn’t go back to that for anything. Even nights like this are better than the best night as a bachelor.
In some weird way, I have my dad to thank for this, for them. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have Paige and Finn in my life. Shit, life is strange sometimes.
The nurse comes back in, and Paige hands her the clipboard of paperwork. She hands Paige back her license and insurance card, then scans the paperwork. She holds it back out in front of Paige, pointing at a spot on the first page. “I need the baby’s social security number.”
Paige freezes for a second, taking Finn from me. “I don’t have it with me.”
“You should really keep it with you at all times,” the nurse scolds. “Keep it in your contacts or something.”
I get to my feet, clearly done with this woman. I know she’s just doing her job, but she could do it a little more nicely. “If there’s any problem filing with the insurance,” I say, “you can call us for it.” She gives me a half-hearted nod and leaves. Grabbing our stuff, I head toward the door. “You’d think someone who works in pediatrics would be a little nicer.”
“Let’s just go,” Paige says, following me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
PAIGE
Finn sleeps peacefully between Slade and me. He used to sleep in bed with me a lot when he was first born, but gradually, I moved him to a crib, so we don’t do this very often anymore. But this is the second time in just a few days, he’s been in bed with Slade and me. The baby books debate co-sleeping, whether it’s good or not. I think each baby is different. Each situation is unique. For me, there was no way my sick little guy was going to sleep anywhere else last night. I know Slade felt the same way.
Slade reaches out, caressing my cheek. “He’s fine. You can sleep,” he whispers.
I repeat the motion and his words back at him. “He’s fine. You can sleep.”
His blue eyes sparkle even though I know he’s dog tired. We were up all night, and when we got home, neither one of us could sleep, keeping watch over Finn all night.
“Think I’ll call in sick today,” I say. “Think my boss will understand?”
Slade yawns a little. “Yeah. Your boss not only understands, but he may take a sick day, as well.”
“You know you don’t have to stay and watch over us,” I say. “We’ll be fine.”
“Maybe I’ll go in later for a few hours,” he says, inching closer to wrap his arm around me. “But for now, I’m staying right here.”
Smiling, I say, “Did I thank you for last night? You were so great. With me. With Finn. With that god-awful nurse.”
“My pleasure,” he says. “I love you.” I can’t help it, but my eyes close
. “Paige, please look at me when I tell you I love you.”
“I am,” I lie, briefly making eye contact with him. I think most people are probably ready for love when it finds them. They’ve probably been searching for it. That’s not me. I love Slade. I know I do. I’m ready for that, but I’m not ready for him to love me back. I want to be, but love means to trust and let the other person in. You can’t be scared. You have to be brave to let someone love you. I’ve always considered myself brave, a fighter. I had to be, but when it comes to love—I’m a coward. I’m not ready for love.
“I love you,” he says again, and I know I look away. “Why do you do that?”
“I don’t want to get used to your love,” I say. “I can’t let myself get used to feeling like this.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because then I’ll start to rely on your love.”
Leaning over, he tilts my chin up, directing my eyes to his. “Rely on my love,” he says. “It’s yours. Forever.”
*
A worried Slade is adorable. I’m not sure why he bothered to go to work. He’s texted and called me constantly, making sure we don’t need anything. Seeing if I want him to pick up dinner. Asking if he can bring home anything special for Finn. Making me promise I’ll call if Finn gets worse.
I gently remind him that it’s just an ear infection and babies get them all the time. His response is that it’s a first for Finn, a first for me, and a first for him, so apparently, that makes it a big deal. Clearly, I overreacted last night and freaked the man out.
Still, I can’t shake this worried feeling. Finn’s still cranky and clingy, but his fever is down some. I’m hoping we’re on the road to recovery, but a gut feeling tells me something bad is coming.
As a kid, I got really good at anticipating bad news. My body would tense, knowing I’d need to react. I feel that way again. Maybe it’s Finn, but more than likely, it’s that I’m a big ole liar. Either way, I can’t shake the feeling that shit is about to hit the fan.
Babies get sick. This is just a part of it, but Finn being sick must be big news because Catrine called to check on him. I guess Slade told Jon and Jon told Catrine, and our little trip to the emergency room became big news.
The Right Side of Wrong Page 18