by Liz Crowe
A loud, happy-sounding screech from the festivities hit her ears. She recognized it as coming from Angelique Love, her sister’s BFF from high school. It affirmed the fact that there truly was no escape.
“Nothing. Let’s get this over with.” She squared her shoulders, ignored the lingering tingly sensation between her legs and ears, thanks to Joey’s earlier efforts, and marched toward the backyard.
Joey caught up with her and slipped his hand into hers as they turned the corner of the house and faced the crowd. It took about ten seconds for her mother to discover her presence.
“Oh honey, look,” the woman yelped, grabbing Paige’s father and making her somewhat wobbly way across the lawn. “It’s Paige!”
“Oh boy,” she muttered under her breath as she plastered on a smile and gripped Joey’s hand tighter. “Here we go.”
“You know, I think you’re building this up to be worse than it actually is,” he whispered.
She looked at him, then shook her head and let go of his hand. He draped his arm around her shoulders and put his lips near her ear. “Relax, DiFerrari. It’s only family.”
She shut her eyes. “Paige,” her mother drawled. “Finally. What a relief! I’m so happy you’re all right.” Her mother yanked her into a bony-armed hug then passed her over to her father. Both of her parents reeked of booze and stress.
Good to know some things never changed.
“And who is this fine looking young man?” her mother crooned as her father released her.
“Mom, Dad, this is Joey,” she announced, reassembling her ponytail. “We’re . . .”
“We’re engaged,” Joey blurted out.
Paige’s mouth dropped open. He gave her mother his biggest, sweetest smile even as her father made a rumbling, disapproving noise.
“Uh, what?” she finally managed to splutter.
Joey dropped to one knee in the grass. Her mother shrieked with delight. Her father’s frown deepened. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Leslie and Angelique running toward their little tableau at the edge of the party.
“Pay-age!” Her sister turned her name into two syllables and a decibel above their mother’s drawn out squealing. Paige closed her eyes and let Joey take her hand. Then she was engulfed in hugs, perfume and booze, and a sort of sick familiarity she had forgotten how much she hated.
As she got dragged away by her sister and friends, she craned her neck over the tops of their heads to beg Joey to rescue her. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was accepting a beer from her father—who was smiling now and introducing him to Leslie’s fiancé, even as her mother twittered and hovered around him like a tiny, irritating bird.
“So, spill it,” Les demanded as she plunked a bottle of wine on the table in the middle of them all. “Details. All of them. He is amazeballs, Paige. How did you keep him a secret so long?”
Paige sighed and downed her first glass of Chardonnay in two gulps. Angelique refilled it with a nudge to Leslie’s arm. She smiled weakly at the two of them and took in that the party must be on the downslope by now. The food table looked decimated. A loud game of touch football was going on behind the tent. Some men were shooting hoops in the driveway. Groups of women her mother’s age were fanning themselves and getting steadily drunker.
“How is your mama?” she asked Angelique. The girl’s dark eyes flashed. “I heard.” She patted Angelique’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, she’s fighting it with everything she’s got. You know Lindsay Love. A little ole cancer isn’t gonna defeat her. She has way too much interfering to do and future grandbabies to spoil.”
Leslie gave her friend a quick squeeze. Angelique shook her head. Paige knew how fractious the girl’s relationship was with her mother—a woman who doted on her four sons.
“Hey, Paige,” a familiar voice called out from behind her. She glanced up in time to see the Love brother she’d gone to school with come up behind her and pull her ponytail. “Good to see ya, ugly.”
Dominic Love was the black sheep in the rambunctious group of brothers, and the one she identified with the most. She jumped up and gave him a big hug. She’d never made the mistake of falling for him, even though they had hooked up a few times their senior year.
He held onto her, and then gave her an ostentatious kiss on the lips before releasing her. His dark eyes seemed flat despite his enthusiastic greeting. “Taking your meds, right?” she asked, her hands on her hips.
He rolled his eyes and smacked her ass, then wandered off without answering. She glanced at Angelique and caught the girl staring after her brother.
Paige sighed and flopped back in her seat. She picked up her refilled wine glass and held it up. “Here’s to you, Leslie. Here’s to your weekend and your dream wedding.”
Leslie smiled and chose, Paige knew, to ignore the tone of her voice and clinked her glass. Angelique did the same. “So,” Paige said, after sucking back half the bolus of alcohol. “What’re my duties as maid of honor, anyway?”
Angelique and Leslie exchanged a glance. Paige felt her face heating up.
“Um, hon, since you never actually attended any of the planning weekends I invited you to—”
“Uh, hello? I was working?” Paige sipped, not willing to accept that she was mad over such a stupid thing.
“Anyway,” Leslie said, patting her hand, calm, cool, and collected as usual. “Angel’s my maid of honor, so you don’t have to do anything but show up at the brunch on time with that hot hunk of a fiancé, and make sure your dress actually fits. You know, since you never came home to try it on and all.”
Paige rose, fury filling her as she stared down at her always-better-at-everything little sister. The little blonde girl who’d been the apple of her mother’s eye, the pretty one to her smart one, the girl she loved and hated with equal measure in ways she couldn’t even explain to herself.
“Now don’t be that way,” Leslie insisted, sipping her wine. Her Mister Perfect Banker Hubby appeared as if sensing her stress. She leaned back into him when he put his hands on her shoulders.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of making a scene over something that I don’t really care about. Don’t worry. Hi, Robbie,” she said, acknowledging her future brother-in-law.
“Good to see you made it, Paige,” he said, his handsome face neutral.
“God, what part of ‘it was the fog’ don’t you people believe?” She stomped her foot, then winced at her own childishness. That was the thing about coming home, she mused. It always had the power to send her spiraling backward into her childhood, plunking her straight into old behaviors and bullshit. “Never mind. I don’t care.” She looked around for Joey, willing him at her side.
“I need to go find . . .” She backed away from the table, the sight of her sister and her wonderful future life represented by her amazing future husband making Paige’s throat close up with jealousy.
Leslie waved her away and leaned over to say something to Angelique. They both glanced at her with expressions that were both familiar and depressing.
Paige sighed and turned away, clutching her wine glass, her vision blurry. She swiped at her eyes. “I fucking hate it here,” she said under her breath as she wandered over to a table full of Love brothers and her very own fake fiancé. She put a hand on Joey’s shoulder. Without looking at her, he leaned over and kissed her knuckles in the sort of practiced way of long-time couples.
“Hey, we like this one, Paige,” Dom said, slapping Joey on the shoulder. “Nice choice.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, then emptied her wine glass again.
“Seriously,” Kieran Love, the tall, red-headed former NBA star said to her. She’d always thought Kieran was the sweetest of all the pack of brothers, each of whom could turn on the charm like a light switch most days. “Where’d you find him?”
She kept her grin plastered on her face, realizing they hadn’t actually concocted a meeting story.
“Online dating service. Paige here has a so
ldier fetish,” Joey said, grabbing her hand and yanking her around so she had no choice but to sit on his lap.
The Love brothers hooted with laughter. “That’s a new one,” Dom said, giving her butt an inappropriate pinch as she struggled to disentangle herself. But Joey kept a grip on her. When she glared at him, he laid an embarrassingly long kiss on her, bringing on wolf whistles and cat calls.
“Are you drunk?” she said, pressing her hands against his firm chest.
“With love,” he responded, his dark eyes twinkling, his grin making her melt in spite of her embarrassment.
“On that note,” Kieran said, unfolding his long, lanky form and stretching. “Gotta bolt. Mama’s looking tired. We should get her home.”
“I am really sorry about her,” Paige said, reaching for his arm.
“She’ll pull through,” Kieran said looking less resolute about that fact than the words indicated. “You know Lindsay.”
Paige nodded. She did know Lindsay Love and had many times wished her own mother were so funny and down-to-earth. The thought of her reduced by breast cancer was simply one that wouldn’t compute. She got to her feet, not willing to look at Joey, even though she could sense him staring at her.
“Paige,” her mother hollered all the way across the tent. “Come on over here now and let’s talk about sleeping arrangements.”
“Oh Lord, here we go,” she muttered under her breath. She noted that Leslie, Robbie, and Angelique had disappeared. She took Joey’s hand.
But within thirty seconds, she realized that Joey Preston had her parents under some kind of a spell.
“Caroline,” he said, using her mother’s first name with a sort of familiarity that made Paige simultaneously happy and nervous. “I’m sure whatever arrangements you’ve made will be just fine.”
“Well, now, I know these are modern times and all, but I can’t condone you kids sleeping in the same room, not until . . . you know.” Paige’s mother made a point to look at her naked left-hand ring finger.
“Sir,” Joey said, turning to her father, his face serious. “I want to apologize to you.”
“Please, son, call me Al.” Paige rolled her eyes as Joey’s smile widened.
“Al, sir, I had every intention of asking your permission for your daughter’s hand this weekend, but I guess I just wasn’t able to control myself. I hope you understand and will give us your blessing.”
Paige’s ears began to hum as she watched her father and the man she had literally met this morning at the airport shake hands, and then engage in a brisk man-hug. Her mother snuck an arm around Paige’s waist.
“He is just the sweetest thing. I declare, I don’t know how you, of all people, attracted him.”
She jumped out of her mother’s reach. “Mama, I’ll swan, that’s just rude.”
“No, no, honey. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
“I’m going inside,” Paige said to the happy group, suddenly so exhausted the concept of her pink, frilly, teenaged bedroom sounded like heaven. “Y’all carry on.” She brushed past Joey without acknowledging him.
Leslie and Robbie were necking in the kitchen as she passed on her way to the stairs, dragging the suitcase she’d been schlepping all day up the steps with her. With a sigh, she opened her bedroom door and flopped face down on the puffy, eyelet duvet cover, too tired to even cry.
At some point, her sister came in and sat beside her. “I’m sorry about the maid of honor thing, Paige,” she whispered, pushing dark curls off Paige’s face and kissing her cheek. Paige smelled toothpaste and a whiff of Robbie’s banker man cologne. Paige rolled onto her back.
“You know I don’t care, right?”
“I know,” Leslie said with a smile. “But seriously, that Joey? He’s a keeper.” Leslie stood up and smoothed her perfectly smooth hair. “Mama’s getting him set up down the hall. He and Daddy are bonding over cars. I don’t think he even noticed you left him alone with them.” Her sister shot her a strange look.
“Yeah, whatever.” Paige dragged herself up and into the bathroom, still festooned with the pink fluffy rugs and toilet seat cover of her youth. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and pulled off the limp sundress. A flash memory of Joey’s lips, his tongue, and fingers, and what they’d done to her earlier made her shiver.
“A keeper,” she whispered to herself before she grabbed a pair of old shorts and a T-shirt from her dresser, knowing her mother kept them there in some kind of ongoing fantasy that her oldest daughter would come home from the big city jungle up north.
As she crawled between the crisp sheets, taking a deep breath of the familiar fabric softener, she dropped almost immediately into sleep. In her dreams, Joey kissed her, held her, and caressed her. When the dreams became too vivid, she opened her eyes and accepted she wasn’t dreaming anymore. Joey was with her, in her bed, despite his earlier denials. And he was gloriously, perfectly naked.
“What are you doing?” she sighed into his lips.
“Calming you down,” he said, sliding her shorts off and slipping his hand between her legs and stroking her to a quick, lovely orgasm.
“God,” she moaned, pressing him onto his back and straddling him without preamble. “I need you inside me.”
“That makes two of us,” Joey confirmed, his smile still wide, his fingertips digging into her thighs. “You feel amazing,” he said, pulling her down so he could suck her nipple into his mouth. “Come again, Paige,” he muttered around her flesh. “Show me.”
She ground down on his pubic bone and closed her eyes, feeling the climax roll up her spine until it hit her brain and shot down to her pussy, making her yelp. He clapped a hand over her mouth, hooked her leg and rolled them until he had her pinned beneath him. Even as the orgasm gripped her in waves of pleasure, his thrusts drew it out. She gripped his muscled arms, angled her hips and took him deeper.
“Gonna . . . can’t stop,” he groaned and covered her lips just as she felt him shudder all over and release inside her. “Oh, shit,” he sighed, his body still thrusting against hers. “Oh . . . shit!” He rolled off her fast, leaving her gasping and empty. “Oh shit, Paige, I didn’t use . . . are you . . . crap.”
He sat on the side of the bed, head hanging low, shoulders shaking. Paige got up on her knees and wrapped her arms around him from behind. “It’s fine. I take a birth control shot. No baby mamas here. And I’m clean.”
He sighed and dragged her around so she sat, cradled in his arms. His kiss was soft and gentle, and the sexiest damn thing ever. “You’re pretty amazing. Everybody thinks so,” she said mumbled around his lips.
He chuckled and kissed her nose, then stood up still holding her, turned and tucked her back into her bed.
“That was a nice surprise,” she said, already feeling herself slip into sleep.
“A little quick,” he admitted. “Sorry. I’ll make the next one better. I was, uh, a little pent up.”
“I can imagine,” she whispered. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he whispered back. “Sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”
“I . . . think I love you,” she said, praying she was dreaming and not actually saying those words to a total stranger.
He smiled at her, his teeth shining in the moonlight streaming in her windows, pecked her nose, then got up and tiptoed out of her room.
Chapter Nine
Joey woke with a start, his training bringing him fully awake in an instant. He sat on the edge of the guest bed, reliving his decision to sneak into Paige’s room the night before and finding that he didn’t regret it, not one bit.
The phone that had woken him made another loud buzz from the side table. He grabbed it, recognizing the “No ID” immediately.
“Preston,” he answered.
“Please hold,” a robotic, vaguely female voice intoned.
“Joey.” Grey sounded out of breath. “I’m really sorry, man. But I need you.”
“When and where,
” he said, his heart clenching at the thought of bolting out of here.
“ASAP. You know I wouldn’t do this to you. Athena isn’t talking to me right now because I’m calling you in on this one.”
“It’s fine. Email me the info, as usual.” He stood and stretched, relishing the pleasant, post-sex, full-body lethargy. His throat closed up at the memory of Paige’s last words to him before she dropped off to sleep.
“Yeah, I will. Listen, Joey, it’s a nasty one. Cartel.”
“Okay.” He was puzzled. Grey usually didn’t talk this much about a job on the phone. They used an encrypted email server for details.
“I’m pulling almost all assets in, which is why I’m calling you. I want you to lead on it. You know this asshole better than anyone.”
“Fine.” He was already concocting his excuses for leaving on Paige’s sister’s wedding day, none of which sounded feasible in any way. “Can it be tomorrow? I really need to finish something up here.”
“As long as you’re here by oh-seven hundred tomorrow.”
“I can make that happen.”
“Fine. Emailing you now,” Grey said before ending the call.
Joey spent the hour between five-thirty and six-thirty reviewing the case—a not so simple assignment involving the delicate extraction of a compromised double agent—and made his flight arrangement for early the next morning. Then he took a long, hot shower, trying to do another extraction in his head, the one where he concocted some kind of a breakup or something to allow him to leave the next morning, no worse for wear.
But Paige DiFerrari was deep under his skin, and he knew it.
With a sigh, he stepped out into the hall, a towel around his waist, and came face to face with Caroline DiFerrari, dressed for the morning’s brunch, her eyes puffy and red as if she’d been crying.
“Oh, sorry, ma’am,” he said, clutching the towel tighter. “Uh, are you all right?”