She’d been nibbling on her bottom lip while he’d been talking, and it took everything in him not to reach up and rescue the plump, abused flesh. He was relieved when she nodded. “Okay.”
Releasing her hand and relaxing back in his seat, Shane caught Betty Lou’s eye and signaled for her to put the check on his account. He then tossed money for a tip onto the table, knowing full well the owner would give it to the busboy who was working his ass off. Sliding out of the booth, he glanced around the large room, before looking back at Paige. “Give me a minute to round up Arianna and Tuck, then we’ll be on our way.”
Five minutes later, Shane realized his words had been easier said than done as he escorted Paige and Arianna to the door, leaving Tuck behind. The bastard had decided to stay with their ranch hands for another hour or so, drinking. The night could only go one way from there—downhill. Tuck usually didn’t drink anything other than the occasional beer, but he’d knocked back his second shot of whiskey in front of Shane, then ordered a third. Any other time, Shane would have dragged Tuck’s ass out of there and taken their daughter and argument home, but with Paige there, he figured it would do more harm than good. Seth promised he’d get Tuck home in one piece, albeit a little drunk, and Shane had taken him at his word. He’d deal with his husband later. For now, he had to get Arianna home to bed and explain a few things to Paige.
Where Tuck’s jealousy was coming from, Shane didn’t know. Yeah, Paige was pretty—very pretty—but he hadn’t been hitting on her. He’d told Tuck the truth—he’d just been trying to put her at ease in her new environment. Arianna was already comfortable with Paige, and Shane didn’t know where the hell they’d find another house manager if this one didn’t work out. The last thing he wanted was for Tuck’s folks to cut their time in Arizona short and return to Kansas, weeks before they were scheduled to for the summer, as they’d offered. Shane loved his in-laws—they were great people—but they were retired now. They didn’t need to be running after a six-year-old and everything else that went into taking care of the huge house. As much as the older couple loved their children, son-in-law, and granddaughter, they also enjoyed their time in Arizona with plenty to do and people their own age.
After tucking Arianna into bed and reading her a story, Shane closed her bedroom door and went to find Paige. She was sitting on the couch in the family room with an e-reader in her hand, but her gaze was focused on the TV’s blank screen. She lifted her chin when she heard him enter the room.
Striding over to the bookcases, he reached up and found the key that was hidden from Arianna. Unlocking the built-in bar, he opened the drop-down door. “Would you like a little something to drink?”
“Um . . .”
He glanced over his shoulder and held up an empty, lowball glass. “It’s not a big deal to have an off-duty drink, Paige. I’m going to have one. You’re more than welcome to join me.”
“Thank you. If you have something light, please.”
There wasn’t much in terms of “light,” but he pulled out a bottle from the back. “I’ve got Bailey’s. Is that okay?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
After pouring a glass of the creamy liqueur, he put two ounces of his favorite scotch in a glass. Taking both, he handed Paige hers over the back of the couch, then grabbed a small framed photo from a shelf. Skirting around the couch, he took a seat in the recliner closest to her. A sigh escaped him as he studied the photograph before showing it to Paige. “You might have noticed there are a lot of pictures of Arianna’s mother, Sarah.”
“I did. Arianna told me she passed away.”
“Yeah, she did—two years ago.” He inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly, his gaze not meeting hers. “She wasn’t just Arianna’s mother, Paige. She was my wife.” He paused for a heartbeat or two. “She was also Tucker’s wife. We had a ménage marriage.”
Silence filled the room, and a few moments passed before he finally risked looking at her. Her eyes were wide, her mouth in an “O,” but there was no condemnation there, just surprise. Well, at least she hadn’t run from the room, screaming. He took a sip of scotch and then forged ahead. “I’ve known since I was a teenager that I liked both men and women. When Tuck and I fell for Sarah, after she moved here to teach at the elementary school, we fell for each other too. It may go against the norms of society, but for us, it felt right. I know I’m throwing a heap of personal stuff at you here, but you have a right to know—especially since the whole town knows already. Some people ridiculed us—still do—but many were supportive after they got over the shock. Hannah had no problems working for us, but I’m sure there are going to be some curious people who will want to know if we’re having a relationship with our new house manager who’s closer to our age. How you handle that is up to you, as long as Arianna isn’t swept into it. We’ll do our best to discourage any false rumors. If it’s too much for you, and you don’t want to work for us, I’ll understand, but I just ask that you give me some warning, so I can work on getting a replacement.”
Shane didn’t know what he’d expected but it wasn’t the loud snort that came from her, followed by a grin and an eye roll. “Please—if I can handle the press and all my former friends and neighbors pointing fingers at me in California, I can handle small-town gossip. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”
“You’re not put off by the ménage?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Why should I be? There’s a lot of kinky things people are into out on the West Coast; a ménage marriage with all three people in love with each other is on the tamer side. So, to answer your question, no I’m not put off by it. Have I ever known anyone in a ménage relationship before? No. Do I think there’s anything wrong with it between consenting adults? Again, no. In fact, I give your Sarah a lot of credit. She bucked the norms of society and followed her heart. Many women don’t have the guts to do that, even in this day and age.”
Sagging back into his chair, Shane breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I was afraid you’d be freaked out by it and I’d have to find another house manager.”
“Not at all. But now the skinny-dipping title makes a lot more sense.” Shane chuckled along with her, then Paige tilted her head. “I do have a question, though.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“What does Tucker have against me?”
That was the question of the hour. Shane grimaced. “For some reason, he misinterpreted me being nice to you as me flirting with you. I’ve never given him or Sarah a reason to think I’d cheat on them, so I’m not sure where it’s coming from. I will say that Tuck doesn’t do well with any change in the status quo—at least, not right away. It takes him a little while to come to terms with it. Will you give him some time?”
“Absolutely. But please, tell me if I’m causing any problems between you, and I’ll let him know in no uncertain terms, I’m not interested in either of you.”
His smile almost faltered, but Shane managed to keep it in place. Now, why were her words so disappointing? He’d only known her a few hours. “I don’t think it’ll come to that, but I’ll keep you in the loop.”
Chapter Ten
Tuck was convinced his head exploding wouldn’t hurt as much as it did now. It was throbbing, relentlessly, reminding him why he didn’t get drunk often.
“If you think I’m covering for you because you just had to tie one on last night, think again.”
Tuck groaned as each of Shane’s words stabbed him in the temples. Not answering, he pulled his pillow over his head and tried to remember how many shots he’d had. Vague recollections of the ranch hands dragging his sorry ass to Seth’s truck and then the ride home flashed through his head. Hadn’t they stopped at least once so he could puke on the side of the road?
Shit. He’d broken a rule Shane’s dad had told him to keep when he’d first been hired as the ranch foreman—never let your employees see you out of control. It was a good way to lose their respect. And if they didn’t respect you, they
wouldn’t respect their job. Shit just went downhill from there. Yeah, there’d been times when Tuck had gone out drinking with his workers before, but he’d always made sure he switched over to cola or sweet tea before he got too wasted. Even after Sarah had died, he’d somehow stayed in control—Shane and Arianna probably had been the cause of that. He was a father, husband, and boss, and had to remember that at all times.
Sleep was pulling him under again, and he was just about to succumb when a loud clanging filled the room. It vibrated through the pillow and into his skull. “Shut it off,” he mumbled, when it registered the racket was coming from Sarah’s old-fashioned-styled alarm clock with its two bells and clapper—unfortunately it wouldn’t stop on its own for a full minute.
“Shut it off yourself.”
Agony ripped through him when he pulled his head out from under the pillow and opened his eyes into mere slits. Shane was striding out of the room and closing the door behind him, leaving the offensive clock sitting on the dresser—well out of reach. He’d also left on every lamp since their room didn’t get the morning sun. Bastard.
Kicking off the covers, Tuck sat up too fast and immediately regretted it as the room spun viciously. “Uuuuuggghhh.” His eyes slammed shut, as his stomach threatened to revolt, and dropped his head into his hands. When he thought he could stand without the floor coming out from under his feet, he trudged over to the alarm and silenced it, but the noise still echoed through his brain. Using pieces of furniture and the door jamb to steady himself, he made it into the bathroom. After relieving himself, he turned on the faucet, washed his hands, and then cupped them. Gulping water, he tried to saturate his parched tongue and throat, but had to slow down when it almost came back up.
When he caught his reflection in the mirror, he didn’t even recognize himself. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair in disarray, and his skin paler than he ever remembered it being. Death warmed over was an understatement. As much as he wanted to crawl back into bed for the rest of the day, he couldn’t. If any of the ranch hands called in sick due to overindulgence, he’d give them a ton of shit, so he had to practice what he preached.
Returning to the bedroom, he checked the time on the alarm clock. If he skipped breakfast—which wouldn’t be a hardship with the way his stomach felt—he could go back to sleep for an hour before he had to head out. Not even bothering to shut off the lamps, Tuck tumbled back into bed and buried his head under his pillow once more.
Almost an hour later, he reached into the shower and turned on the water, happy in the knowledge they had a backup water heater, so Shane couldn’t have let it go cold on purpose. It would have taken him running a shower or faucet for well over thirty minutes to do so and that would have also left Paige without hot water.
Once he was finally dressed, Tuck strode into the kitchen, much cleaner, but in no less pain. Shane spared him a brief, annoyed glance before taking a sip of his coffee and going back to yesterday’s local newspaper. Since it wasn’t delivered until after they started their day, he was often a day behind.
The smell of the coffee had Tuck’s stomach roiling again, and he turned away from the half-full carafe on the counter. His gaze caught sight of several bottles lined up on the table—acetaminophen, water, and Gatorade. Next to them sat several individually-wrapped, hard candies.
“Paige left them for you,” Shane said, not bothering to look at him. “If it were up to me, I would’ve hidden it all. The candies apparently have ginger in them—she said they’ll help your stomach.”
Tuck reached for the painkillers and water. “You told her I was hungover?”
“Nope. She figured it out for herself after you woke her up with your lousy singing while trying to open the bar with your car key. By the way, you get to tell Drake why the beautiful cabinets and shelves he spent weeks making by hand have deep scratches in them.”
“Shit.” He dumped three pills into his hand, then threw them into his mouth, washing them down with the water. He’d been singing? His aching brain scrambled to remember, but the last thing he could recall was puking on the side of the road. Yeah, now that that image had filtered back into his mind, he remembered Seth had pulled over just in time. Wonderful.
“Uh-huh. He’s going to be pissed, to put it mildly, and I’m throwing your fine ass under the bus for this one.” Drake Hadley was one of Shane’s oldest and best friends, ever since they’d met in the first grade. He was an incredible artist when it came to turning plain planks of wood into masterpieces. “Just be grateful our daughter sleeps like the dead; she didn’t hear the commotion you made.” Shane stood and dumped the last of his coffee into the sink. Grabbing his straw cowboy hat from the coat rack by the backdoor, he set it on his head, then walked out of the house without a backward glance. Yup, he still had a burr in his saddle.
Tuck’s empty stomach growled. Hopefully, some toast would stay down. He opened the bag of bread that was sitting on the counter and popped two pieces into the toaster. It was then he noticed a paper-towel-covered plate. Lifting the edge of the towel, he thanked the gods above. Bacon. Greasy, delicious bacon. One of the best cures for a hangover, second only to a little hair of the dog, in his opinion. There was no way there’d been bacon left over if it’d been on the dining room table for the ranch hands—there was rarely any food left after they finished—so Paige must have set some aside for him. Shane definitely wouldn’t have done it, as angry as he was.
Stuffing a full strip of bacon into his mouth, Tuck stepped over to the refrigerator and found the butter. Within minutes, he was having a bacon and butter sandwich on toast, with two more pieces of bread being browned for another one.
The front door opened, and, seconds later, Paige strolled into the room. Dressed in a comfortable, red T-shirt, jeans, and well-worn boots, she looked like she’d fit right in with the rest of the residents of Hazard Falls. Hadn’t Shane said she was from a rich area of California? She sure didn’t dress like some high-society gal. If she was pissed he’d woken her up last night, it didn’t show.
She smiled when she saw him. “Hi. Glad you found the bacon—one of the best things for a hangover. Can I get you anything else?”
“Um, no. Thanks. Did you get Arianna on the bus okay?” Their daughter always took the bus to school, but for the past few weeks, since Hannah had left, Tuck’s sister had dropped her off in the afternoon, making sure at least one of the two dads was home. Sometimes they got sidetracked and emergencies popped up, and they hadn’t wanted Arianna to get off the bus and not have someone waiting. Now with Paige there, she’d be able to ride home with her friends again.
Turning on the faucet, she started washing the dishes piled in the sink. “Yes, she did. I’ll be there when the bus drops her off at ten to three.”
“Good.” After putting together his second sandwich, he tossed the butter back into the fridge. Grabbing the rest of his breakfast, including the bottle of Gatorade she’d left out for him, he took his hat from the hook by the door. “Thanks for leaving out all the hangover remedies. I’m . . . uh . . . sorry I woke you up last night.”
She gifted him with a brilliant smile as she rinsed a large ceramic bowl. “No worries—I hope it all helps. And I wasn’t really asleep when you got home—I was into a good book on my Kindle and was still reading.”
“Still, I apologize. I’m not normally like that. I’m sure it was a shock on your first night here.”
Her shoulders went up in a quick shrug. “Stuff happens. Again, no worries. Just remember to drink lots of water and Gatorade today.”
Tuck nodded. “I will.” When she didn’t respond further, and he couldn’t think of anything else to say, he opened the door, walked out onto the porch, squinting when the morning sun hit him in the eyes. Muttering a curse, he gently dragged a hand through the long strands of his hair, placed the hat on his head, then got ready to start the work day.
Chapter Eleven
Paige had just finished drying her hands when there was a knock at the bac
kdoor. Through the window, she saw Nicole Mathers standing on the porch, waving at her. Smiling, Paige opened the door. “Hi, Nicole.”
“Hi, Paige. I usually just walk in, but I didn’t want to scare the hell out of you again.” She held up a thermos. “Just came to fill up. I hope the boys left me some coffee.”
“Shane said you might be in, so I checked the urn—there’s enough left.”
There was a large, electric percolator on a sideboard in the dining room, and Nicole stepped into the room to fill her container. She raised her voice, so she could still be heard. “Are you all settled in?”
Paige leaned against the door jamb. “Yeah, I didn’t bring much with me since I’m here on a trial basis. If I’m still here next week, I’ll have the rest of my stuff shipped.”
“My husband said you were from California. What made you leave there to come hang out in Hazard Falls, Kansas, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Well, she did, but Nicole was probably just being small-town inquisitive. It came with the territory. From their brief conversation yesterday, though, Paige thought she might have found an ally and possibly a friend in the woman. Time would tell. For now, she’d keep things simple and vague. “I’m starting over after a failed marriage. I grew up in a small town in Nebraska, but there’s nothing left for me there. A friend of mine is Shane’s cousin and recommended me for the job, so here I am. Did you grow up in Hazard Falls?” she asked, switching the focus of the conversation away from herself.
“Yup. I was three years younger than Shane in school. My dad and my older brother are the local veterinarians and my mom owns the hair salon in town. I took two years of business school before getting pregnant by my high-school sweetheart.” She shrugged then recapped the thermos. “Hank and I are still together though and love each other more than we did back then.”
Don't Fight It: Hazard Falls Book 1 Page 6