Paige in Progress (Reluctant Hearts #3)

by Brighton Walsh

  Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, because Jason tosses and misses, and this time it’s my turn to fist-pump.

  “You wanna win by cheating, Paige? Afraid your skills can’t hold up to ours?” Jase asks.

  “Oh, please. This isn’t cheating. I can’t help it if your delicate man-ego can’t handle a little ribbing. From what I hear, though, Tessa would like a little more ribbing, if you know what I mean.”

  Adam’s laugh reaches me the same time the bag lands high on the ramp before sliding down and straight through the hole. Which means we just scored twenty-one, and as long as we can keep Jason from scoring, we’re golden.

  “Hell yeah!” I shoot a smile to Adam, wishing I could do more than offer him a lame thumbs up from my side of the yard.

  “Shake it off, babe. Shake it off,” Tessa says to Jason. “You’ve got this.”

  Doesn’t matter how much she encourages, though, because he’s still off his game. As he throws bag after bag, all of them missing the ramp, Adam follows suit, tossing the bags short so we don’t bust.

  “Last one, Jase,” I say as he lines up his throw. “You know, I was totally kidding about that delicate man-ego, but apparently it’s true.”

  “Ignore her, baby,” Tess says. “She’s trying to get in your head.”

  “Trying and succeeding.” I grin at them both.

  I silently curse Jason under my breath as he takes his last shot and groan when it sinks into the hole.

  “Finally!” Jase shouts as Tessa does a dance next to me. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I say to Adam. “You just need to sink it again. That’s all, and we win. Line it up and put it right in the hole.”

  Adam raises an eyebrow at me, his gaze burning into mine, and how did I never realize how freakin’ dirty this game could sound? I tear my eyes away from him, afraid if I stare at him any longer, this frayed leash holding me back from him will snap, and I’ll attack him in front of all our friends and make him do exactly what I told him to. Instead, I glance at him out of the corner of my eye as he takes his stance, lining up the shot while Jason continues to taunt him from their side of the lawn. Adam doesn’t even flinch, though, and I watch with breath held as he releases the bag. It sails to my side and lands with a thump on the ramp, then slides down and into the hole, canceling their points and causing us to win.

  “That’s game, bitches!” I yell, running over to Adam and wrapping my arms around his neck before I’ve even had a chance to realize what I’m doing. He catches me and spins me around, his arms banded around my waist and his laugh puffing against my ear. It doesn’t take long for me to realize what the hell I’m doing…and that all of our friends have gone silent around us. I can feel their eyes on us, on me specifically, and why wouldn’t they be looking? Whenever I’m paired up with Jase or Cade, I offer high-fives when we win, not full-body hugs. The only thing I have going for me is that I somehow managed to refrain from wrapping my legs around him…barely. But, God, I want to. Remembering exactly what I’d feel if I did, Adam long and thick and hard for me, sends a shudder through my body.

  I pull away, needing some space, but the look Adam shoots me tells me everything I need to know. It doesn’t matter how much space is between us because that chemistry we have is always going to be there, like a giant hot pink elephant sitting right in the center of the room. And if I’m going to make it through this summer with him here, I’ve either got to figure out how to ignore it…or climb on for a ride.

  TWELVE

  paige

  Growing up in the family I did, with my father being career military, it meant we moved around a lot. Twelve schools by the time I was fourteen, one of which was in Italy. I didn’t mind it. I didn’t love it, either, but there could’ve been worse things. My parents have always been happily—almost sickeningly—married. The exceptions in the love department, I always say. My brothers, though eight and ten years older than me, always had my back before they left for the police academy and the Army, respectively. And it wasn’t like I was shy. You don’t move around that much without picking up a few tips of the trade, and without getting really good at putting yourself out there. But that didn’t mean I didn’t have problems making friends. I didn’t fit in with the girls, because while they wanted to play Barbies or do each other’s hair, I wanted to be in the backyard with their brothers, playing baseball or soccer. And the guys? When I was younger, it was all about the cooties…can’t play with a girl. And when I was older? It was all about the ass. If they were hanging out with me, it wasn’t because they wanted to go hiking. It was because they wanted to fuck.

  It all changed junior year when my parents and I moved back home—or as close to home as we could get. It was the one place we always came back to. The place my grandparents live. The place my brother Tanner became a cop. And, most recently, the place my oldest brother Dillon got a transfer to.

  Even though this house isn’t my childhood home, it’s the closest thing I’ve got to it, and I love it. I love it here, where my family is. Where my friends are—ones who take me and accept me for the conundrum I am.

  “Mom?” I call out as I walk through the back door, tossing my purse on the couch before I get attacked by my dog. I lean down to rub his ears while doing my best to avoid his slobbery kisses. “Hi, Buddy,” I croon. “Hi, sweet boy. You’re a good dog, aren’t you? Did you miss me?”

  “I’m in here, honey!”

  I stand from my crouched position, and Buddy follows behind me as I head into the kitchen to find my mom going to town on a pot full of what I assume are soon-to-be mashed potatoes if the scent of roast is anything to go by. I walk over and wrap my arms around her from behind, squeezing as she pats my hands clasped over her stomach.

  Stepping back, I reach out to pluck an olive from the salad she’s already prepped and hop up on the counter, Buddy sitting on the floor at my feet. “Where’re the boys?”

  “They should be here any time. Tanner was helping Dillon do some unpacking. He wanted to finish up the kitchen before they came over.”

  I don’t have to see my mom’s face to know there’s a huge smile on it. For the first time in fifteen years, she has all her kids in the same place, and she’s loving every minute of it. Even if the circumstances surrounding my oldest brother’s transfer aren’t the best, she’s happy he’s home.

  Before I can ask her how Dillon’s getting acclimated, my dad pokes his head in from the garage. “Paige! Get your ass out here and let your old man beat you in some hoops.”

  Snorting, I roll my eyes and hop down from the counter. “You wish, old man.” I don’t bother asking my mom if she needs help with anything before I give her a smile and head out to find my dad, Buddy trailing at my feet. This is par for the course on Sundays at my parents’. Mom loves to cook and hates basketball. I’m sure she’d also like some help in the kitchen, but not as much as she likes things done a certain way…her way.

  “Dinner will be ready as soon as your brothers get here, so don’t all four of you get wrapped up in a game and forget to come inside.” She stares pointedly at me over her cute red-framed glasses, the bangs of her short blond hair sweeping over her forehead.

  “That happened one time…”

  She laughs, knowing as well as I do that it’s happened more often than not…and it’ll probably happen tonight, too. Especially with Dillon back home.

  My dad is already in the driveway, tossing free throws at the basket. He sinks more than he misses. He’s good, but I’ll never tell him that. He tosses another one as I walk out there, missing the basket by a few inches.

  “You forgot your glasses, Dad. Need me to grab them for you so you can see? The hoop is that bright orange circle backed by the white board. You know, that thing you can’t seem to hit?”

  “Stop running your mouth, Punky, and get over here. Unless you’re scared your old man will beat you?”

  I bark out a laugh, pulling my hair back in a
ponytail with the elastic around my wrist. “I’d have to be blind, deaf, and not have use of either of my arms for you to beat me.”

  “Them’s fightin’ words, little girl.”

  I step right up to him, not at all intimidated by the solid brick wall of man in front of me. He was in the Army for thirty years, and I have no doubt that every one of his subordinates were scared as shit of him. He’s six-feet-plus of pure muscle, even at fifty-five. He can take a man down with his bare hands. Knows which guns to use for maximum damage and minimum discovery. He can bench-press two of me and not blink an eye. He is a badass motherfucker…no denying that. But his subordinates have never seen him cry while watching Marley and Me, or listened as his voice got all gruff the day I graduated summa cum laude, or watched him dance with my mom in the kitchen when neither of them thinks anyone is watching.

  “You don’t scare me, gramps,” I say, keeping my eyes on his so he doesn’t expect it when I steal the ball from him, dribbling it over for a quick layup. I grab the ball when it bounces on the cement of the driveway, a couple feet from where Buddy is curled up watching us, and pass it to Dad, offering a grin. “That’s 1-0.”

  “Only because you cheated.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to even sputter at that before he shoots from his spot on the driveway. Swish. The curses that fly out of my mouth would have sailors blushing, but they only cause him to smile. “Don’t let your mom hear you talk like that.”

  “I don’t see any moms out here. Just me and you, old man.”

  He passes the ball to me again, and we continue shooting and trash talking. This is my favorite part of the week. Sunday night dinners with my family, hanging out with my parents, and now both my brothers. By the time Tanner and Dillon show up, I’m a sweaty mess, but I’m also grinning like a fool, because I beat my dad.

  “I call winner,” Tanner yells out when he gets out of his car, Dillon stepping out of the passenger side.

  It’s been so long since Dillon has lived in the same city as us, years getting by on too-quick visits over holidays or when he’d come home briefly over leave, that I forget he’s here to stay. I run over and throw my arms around his waist, squeezing him as tight as I can. He wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss to my head. “Hey, Punky.”

  “What the hell?” Tanner says. “Every time I see you, all I get is slapped upside the head, and this asshole gets a bear hug?”

  Pulling away from Dillon, I raise an eyebrow at Tanner. “I just hung out with you the other night, and I didn’t slap you once.”

  “Didn’t hug me, either,” he mutters with a scowl.

  “Aw, are you feeling left out?” I go over to him, wrapping my arms around him in a hug and wipe my sweaty forehead on his T-shirt, laughing when he groans.

  “Gross, Punky.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who wanted some affection.”

  “Not when it comes at the price of your stink. Jesus, did you shower today?”

  “I know it’s been a while for you, but this is what victory smells like, Tan.”

  He looks to my dad, his jaw dropped. “You let her beat you?”

  I punch Tanner in the stomach and dance out of the way before he can retaliate. “Oh, please, he didn’t let me do anything. He’s getting too old to keep up with the young-uns.”

  My dad sputters in protest as Tanner says, “Yeah, well, I’m not. You. Me. Rematch.”

  The side door from the garage into the house opens, and my mom pokes her head out. “Don’t even think about it!” she snaps. “You can play more after dinner. Now get in here before everything gets cold.” She shuts the door, and we all follow behind dutifully, Buddy included. My mom is tiny. Five-foot-nothing, and one hundred pounds soaking wet. I shot past her when I was in fourth grade. Still, when she gives an order, we all comply without question. She demands respect and, because of that, we all give it to her.

  “I swear to God, she’s got a camera out here,” Tanner says under his breath. “How does she know?”

  “She always knows,” Dillon offers. “How many times did you try to sneak out in high school?”

  “I don’t know, maybe seventy?”

  Dillon laughs. “And how many times did she catch you?”

  “Seventy-one.”

  This time we all join in the laughter as we shuffle into the house, going straight to the dining room. Even though my brothers were both out of the house by the time I was ten, that still gave me ten years to learn the rules. And the rules in this house were if I wanted something to eat, I needed to take no prisoners and get in there right the fuck now. Because of that, I don’t take a minute to go to the bathroom and freshen up. My spot’s next to Tanner anyway, and he deserves to suffer through my stench after showing up the night of my date.

  When talk moves to what we’ve all been up to this week, Tanner cuts in. “I went to Paige’s place on Thursday night thinking we could hang out…brought her dinner, even…and she was all, you know”—he waves his hand in my direction with a disgusted look on his face—“girled up. Like, in a dress. Apparently, she had a date. And from the looks of what I was in the middle of, she’s got more than one guy interested.” He turns to me. “Don’t think I didn’t notice whatever was going on with you and neighbor guy across the hall.”

  The thought of Adam makes my toes curl and my legs clench together. It’s an involuntary reaction. Just like everything I seem to do around him. I’ve thought about him way more than I should, especially since having him over for the movie and then the night at Cade and Winter’s when I managed a full-body tackle, barely restraining myself from climbing on his dick.

  And I absolutely do not need to be thinking about that right now. I also definitely don’t need to be discussing my dating—which, let’s be honest, is generally more about fucking—life with my parents. I glare at Tanner. “Really? You couldn’t talk to me about this Friday night when I not only came over and watched CSI with you, but also brought you those burritos from that food truck downtown you absolutely freakin’ love? Instead you thought it’d be a good idea to discuss it over dinner? With Mom. And Dad.”

  Mom snorts. “Paige, honey, I hope you didn’t think we thought you were a blushing virgin whose dating life dried up after you moved out. We may be your parents, and we may be so old, but we’re not stupid.”

  I drop my forehead to my hands and groan. “Oh my God, how is this even happening right now? How did we go from talking about the best cookware for Dillon to discussing my sex life at the dinner table?”

  Tanner holds up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I never said anything about sex. And Mom and Dad might not think you’re a blushing virgin, but I sure as shit do. Back me up, bro.”

  Dillon’s eyes stay focused on his plate as he cuts up some roast before taking a bite. “I’ll be honest and say I’ve never once thought of Paige and sex in the same sentence, and I’d like to strangle each and every one of you for making me do so now.”

  Mom snorts. Dad coughs. Dillon shakes his head. Tanner looks appropriately chastised. All I can do is groan.

  “You both have seen your sister, right?” Mom asks, amusement in her voice.

  My brothers lift their heads and look at me, scrutinizing expressions on their faces. Tanner shrugs. “She looks like annoying Paige to me. The same one who would chase us around the yard and go dirt bike riding with us. Plus, she reeks, like usual.”

  “God, why can’t you grow up?” I elbow him. “You’re over thirty, old man. Start acting like it.”

  “Hey,” Dillon cuts in. “If he’s an old man, what does that make me?”

  “Geriatric.”

  That earns a laugh from everyone but Dillon, who scowls at me until eventually cracking a smile. I love this. I’ve missed this. Except that’s not entirely true, either. We’ve never really had it. While Tanner and I always make sure to be home for Sunday night dinners, Dillon’s been stationed all over the world. The last time he was a regular figure at our weekly dinners, I was ei
ght.

  “How’s the internship going, Punky?” my dad asks.

  “Oh, it’s awesome.” I plaster on a bright smile. “Super great.”

  Tanner snorts. “‘Super great’?”

  “What? It is.”

  “Uh huh. Sure. So making all those copies is living up to your expectations? How about filing that paperwork? And making coffee runs? And refilling the staplers?”

  My shoulders sag. “Okay, so it’s not exactly what I hoped I’d be doing, but I’ve only been there a couple weeks. They’ll come around.” I glance at Tanner out of the corner of my eye. “They’ll come around, right?”

  He says, “Definitely,” but he shakes his head, and I barely resist the urge to punch him in the stomach again.

  Before I can act out my urge, Dillon asks, “What are you hoping they’ll have you do?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug and stab some roast with my fork. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to go to any crime scenes or anything, but I’d love to sit in on some of the meetings. See how they profile the suspects, that kind of thing. After five straight years of school with no summer breaks, I’m ready to be doing something. I just want to be in the field already.”

  “You’ll get there, kiddo,” my dad says. “Just have to put in your dues. Not every twenty-three-year-old already has their master’s degree and a job on the horizon.”

  “I don’t have either yet.”

  “But you will.” Dad says it with such conviction, I can’t help but smile. My parents have always encouraged me to be whatever I wanted to be. They didn’t shun or coerce me when my interests veered toward what’s most often thought of as boy stuff. Didn’t try to enroll me in ballet when I wanted to play soccer. Didn’t persuade me into trying out for cheerleading instead of the track team. And they never once told me I couldn’t do anything. They also didn’t try to cram me into their mold. My dad might have been career Army, but he never pushed that on any of us. Even on Dillon, who decided to follow in Dad’s footsteps of his own volition.