by Debra Webb
Wilted and defeated, she admitted, “I ate yesterday.”
Another hot curse sprang from his lips. Only this time in that other language he reverted to whenever he got really angry or emotional. Paige didn’t know the words, but she recognized them as his native tongue. She’d heard them before. Too long ago to remember, she reminded the part of her that longed to recall.
Nathan burst through the front door and bounded up the stairs as if he were carrying a feather.
“Put me down!” She squirmed in his arms when she realized he intended to take her to the bedroom. Anger spurred her into action. She pummeled his hard chest with her fists.
“Stop it,” he ordered in a low rumble. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.”
She huffed like an indignant child, but surrendered to his strength. She closed her eyes and slumped against him. A bombardment of sensations surged through her, then sapped the last of her waning energy. A sense of home she refused to acknowledge settled over her. The clean scent of leather and sweat assaulted her nostrils. Stop it! Stop it! She screamed at herself. These feelings are off limits.
When he reached her bedroom, the one he knew she always used, Nathan settled her on her feet once more. She swayed from the loss of his arms around her. He steadied her.
“I’m going downstairs to make you a sandwich or something.” His concerned gaze moved restlessly over her face. “Take yourself a long, hot bath to relax your muscles. You’re going to be as sore as hell come tomorrow morning from all that backbreaking work. I’ll patch you up after.”
“I can patch myself up,” she challenged, lifting her chin defiantly.
“You can’t even reach the spot,” he told her impatiently. “Now do like I tell you before I do it for you.”
She slammed the door behind him when he left. She repeated a few of those choice words he liked to use so well and stared at the closed door for a long moment. Nathan was just as bullheaded as ever.
The telephone rang as she turned toward the bathroom. Paige crossed the room and snatched up the receiver. No doubt it would be Robert calling to check on things again. She hoped Ginny would appreciate his worrisome nature. “Hello,” she groused.
“Paige, how are you, my dear?”
Paige smiled. “Silas, it’s good to hear from you!” Silas Dutton was Robert’s oldest and dearest friend, not to mention Trinity’s one and only attorney. He was also one of her favorite people.
“I couldn’t be better, but how are you?”
“I’m fine,” she told him. That had become her standard response. “God,” she breathed. “It’s been forever.”
A rusty chuckle rumbled in her ear. “I can’t believe Robert finally persuaded you to come visit for a while. I know your law practice keeps you very busy.”
Paige pulled the ponytail holder from her hair and let it fall free. “Robert needed me. It’s not every day a sixty-three-year-old confirmed bachelor gets married, you know.”
“I plan to stay confirmed myself,” Silas resolved. “It did take Ginny ten years to convince Robert, after all.”
“I’m not so sure that it wasn’t the other way around, Silas,” Paige argued affectionately.
“Valid point, counselor. I thought perhaps I could take you out to dinner tonight and do some catching up.”
She padded to the bureau and scrutinized her sweaty, grimy, and frazzled-looking reflection. She frowned. If her colleagues could see her now, she’d never live it down. She stretched her right shoulder and winced. But she hadn’t seen Silas in years. “That sounds lovely.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“See you then.” It would be nice to see a friendly face, even if she did feel like hell at the moment. But a nap this afternoon would change that. She and Silas could talk for hours about law and politics. And the subject of the Big C would never have to come up. She shuddered. She didn’t want to think about that.
Silas brought back the pleasant memory of cherry-scented pipe tobacco. She could almost smell the sweet aroma. She smiled as she recalled Silas and Robert sitting around the card table in the parlor, a cigar or pipe in one hand and poker cards in the other, the clink of bourbon-filled crystal and hearty laughter filling the sultry night air.
Paige had always watched the two men until she was sure they were completely enthralled in the game before sneaking back to her room. Ever so quietly she had opened her window to let Nathan inside. For hours they would play games or tell stories or simply sit quietly and think. Think about their future together.
Shaking off the haunting memories, she retraced her steps to the bathroom. Any minute now Nathan would probably come storming back into her room demanding to know what was taking so long. With a heavy sigh, she turned on the water in the tub, then jerked off her clothes and flung them on the floor.
She grimaced when she saw the blood on her shirt. She craned her neck to see the cut in the mirror. A small gash marred her skin. Not too bad. She took a steadying breath and pushed back the sour taste that rose in her throat.
She slipped into the welcoming warmth of the water and pressed her back against the cold porcelain tub. The gash stung for a moment. She sighed as the heat relaxed her tired body. Maybe if she stayed in here long enough, Nathan would just go away.
~*~
Nathan heaved a disgusted breath and set the plate containing the ham sandwich and chips he had prepared on the kitchen table. The painters had gone, but the place still reeked of fresh paint. He opened the fridge and removed a can of cola. He closed the door, braced himself against the cool, white surface and squeezed his eyes shut. Why did she have to come back? After all this time, why didn’t she just stay gone?
Seeing her again was like pouring salt in a wound that had never healed. In spite of everything, Nathan still wanted her. But he couldn’t have her. Wouldn’t have her. Not after the way she had hurt him. He’d rather be alone the rest of his life than take a chance on having his heart broken again by Paige Weston.
He reached into a cupboard and retrieved the first aid kit Robert had kept in the same place for as long as he could remember. A smile tugged at his lips as he thought of all the skinned knees and elbows he and Paige had patched up on each other over the years. His heart twisted with the memory of her little tradition of kissing the hurt and making it all better. He shook off the thought and the feelings it evoked, then tucked the first aid kit under his arm. The sooner he stopped dredging up the past, the better off he’d be.
Nathan trudged up the stairs and down the long hall that led to her room. He opened the door, stepped into the room and inhaled the steamy air and the scent of Paige. He closed his eyes and forced away the need that jolted his soul. He summoned up the courage he knew it would take to touch her and stepped closer to the closed bathroom door.
“Are you ready for me to come in, Paige?” he asked, his voice hoarse with the need he couldn’t will away.
“No, but since I know you won’t leave until you’ve done what you think you have to do, come in.” She pulled the door open and stepped back for him to enter the suddenly too-tiny room.
Nathan moistened his lips and allowed his hungry eyes to travel over her. Clad in a long pink terry cloth robe, what little of her skin he could see glistened, dewy and smooth. She’d brushed her wet hair back from her face. Those big blue eyes were a definite threat to his belief that he could deal with her proximity and not lose his sanity. Her face had been scrubbed clean and looked fresh and much younger than her years.
The day’s date hit Nathan like a blow to his midsection. He frowned and lowered his gaze. “I forgot that yesterday was your birthday.” He felt ashamed that he hadn’t remembered her thirtieth birthday. But why should he remember? They were nothing to each other anymore. He was probably less than nothing to her.
“No big deal. Here.” She turned her back to him and dropped her robe off her slender shoulders. “Get it over with.”
Nathan’s body ached as his gaze moved
over the creamy, smooth expanse of her shoulders. He tried to breathe but it seemed near impossible. He set the first aid kit on the sink and hesitantly allowed his fingers to trace the outline of the small, ragged wound. She shifted then settled beneath his touch. His breath, shallow and uneven, was the only sound in the room.
Nathan dabbed antiseptic on the injury, eliciting a gasp from her. “Sorry,” he muttered and quickly blew on the smarting flesh. She shivered. He clutched the sink with his free hand and squeezed until he felt certain the porcelain would crack. He willed the rush of need to retreat.
“Better?” he asked. She nodded. He applied the antibiotic cream and carefully positioned the bandage into place. “All done.”
“Thank you.” Paige shifted to cover herself with the robe.
Before his brain could issue the command to stop, Nathan had caught the fluffy material in his fingers and slipped it back down. He dropped a light kiss on her shoulder next to the clean, white bandage. “All better now,” he whispered. Desire pooled hot and heavy below his belt.
Paige whirled to face him, the robe still hanging off one delicate shoulder. He’d have happily traded ten years of his life just to touch that shoulder and allow his hand to slip beneath the fabric and cup her breast.
Her eyes searched his. He saw the questions. Saw the hesitation before she reached out and touched his tense jaw. Nathan closed his eyes and allowed himself this one small, temporary pleasure. Years of want only she could assuage welled inside him until he felt ready to explode. He shuddered. Pain he couldn’t bear to feel again stiffened his already rigid muscles.
“Nathan, we need to talk.”
Her soft voice made his eyes open. He looked at her sweet face. The face he’d dreamed of, been haunted by for as long as he could remember. Reality shot through him like a piercing arrow. She would never be his. She’d only hurt him again. He recoiled from her touch. The anger that always hovered just below the surface erupted. “What do we have to talk about?” he snarled.
Paige blinked and backed away from him. He ignored the pain that stabbed at his heart when he watched the emotion in her eyes turn to something resembling disappointment.
“We need to settle this thing between us. The past.” Her voice sounded small and hesitant, “We need to—”
Nathan snorted in disgust, cutting her off. “I’ve got better things to do.” He turned away and strode out the bathroom door and across the bedroom.
“Wait! Nathan, I mean it. We need to talk about... things,” Paige pleaded, right on his heels.
Nathan whipped around to face her. “What do you want to talk about, Paige? Your father, the big-shot attorney who thinks his money can buy anything?” His rage had reached a dangerous level, but he couldn’t slow its ascent. “Or maybe you want to talk about the way you left and never came back... until...” He swallowed hard, then forced himself to continue. “Or better yet, let’s talk about the way you threw yourself at me after my mother’s funeral. Now there’s a hot topic.”
“I can’t believe you said that.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“That night meant a great deal to me even if it meant nothing to you.” Her lips trembled, then tightened.
Nathan laughed, a rude, grating sound. “Why’d you do it, Paige? Sympathy? Trying to make me feel better because I’d lost the only family I had in this world?” His words contained all the bitterness that had consumed him for far too long. “Or maybe you just wanted to see if you could still have me?”
Nathan caught her wrist before her palm connected with his jaw. He jerked her close. “I guess you don’t want to talk after all.”
“I hate you, Nathan Blackrope,” she shouted. Her shoulders shook with the outrage he saw in her eyes. Tears brimmed, ready to fall past her thick lashes.
“Good. Don’t you ever forget it, either.” Dangerously close to making the monumental mistake of kissing her again and begging her not to hate him, he flung her wrist from his grasp and stormed out of her room.
Chapter Three
Paige regarded the food that sat before her with complete disinterest. Silas Dutton sat across the table, pretending not to notice her somber mood. Paige stabbed a lettuce leaf and brought the fork to her mouth, but couldn’t bring herself to eat. Nathan’s words still rang in her ears. Don’t you ever forget it, either, he’d said. He wanted her to hate him. Maybe that meant he hated her as well. How could she ever hope to make peace with the man? It seemed an impossible task.
“I’m sorry, Paige. I thought you liked this place, otherwise I wouldn’t have suggested it.” Silas looked from the virtually untouched dinner to her. He leaned back in the wide bench seat of their booth and studied her more closely.
“This place is fine, Silas.” She shrugged and forced a small smile. “I’m just a little distracted.”
“I can remember Robert having to come here and pick you up a couple of times when you stayed out past curfew.”
Paige grinned in spite of herself. “I remember that all too well.” She surveyed their smoke-filled surroundings. Dim lights, music, and great food. Bubba’s had been her favorite haunt in Trinity as a teenager. A kind of diner-dancehall combination. Though Bubba served alcohol, he kept a handle on any sign of trouble. Paige had seen the big, burly man toss more than one excited cowboy out on his ear. What the place lacked in class it more than made up for in atmosphere and hospitality. A flashy old jukebox pouring out honkytonk country music completed the picture.
“Have you told him yet?”
“What?” Paige jerked her gaze to the sixtyish man seated across from her.
“As Robert’s attorney, I’m privy to his deepest, darkest secrets.” Silas smiled a kind, reassuring smile. “He had Jesse included in his will immediately after the child’s birth.”
Paige set her fork down. “No. I haven’t told him yet.”
Silas drew in a heavy breath, his expression suddenly grim. “Robert told me about the other thing as well.”
“Oh.” It was the only thing she knew to say.
“I’m as sorry as I can be, Paige,” he said, his words steeped in remorse.
“I know.” She forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Robert said that a recurrence is unlikely.”
Paige nodded. “The surgery pretty much eliminated that possibility.” She swallowed tightly.
Silas clutched her hand in his. “You can’t have anymore children, but you do have Jesse.”
“I know.”
“Telling Nathan the truth is the right thing to do,” he urged.
Paige cleared her throat. “Well, cancer certainly forces you to take a look at the bigger picture. I realized that with Mom gone, I was all Jesse had.” She blinked back the tears. “What would have happened to him if...” She took a moment to pull herself together. “At this point, I don’t want my father near Jesse. And Robert refuses to agree to be Jesse’s guardian in the event something happens to me, unless I tell Nathan the truth.”
“Why haven’t you told him?” Wise gray eyes settled on hers.
“It’s not so simple, Silas.” Paige focused her attention back on the salad for which she had no appetite. “Nathan’s angry and bitter.” She massaged at the dull ache settling in her temples. “I think he hates me now.”
Silas shook his head. “Elliott sure did a number on the two of you.”
“I know my father is a prejudiced, self-centered man, but this situation is not entirely his fault.” Paige had never told anyone what a fool she had been and just how badly Nathan had hurt her. “Nathan married someone else, remember?”
“Only after you left him behind,” Silas reminded gently.
“I did what I had to do.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore now, please.”
“You’ve been tugged in two directions all your life, Paige. Your daddy pulling you one way and Nathan pulling you the other.” He squeezed her trembling fingers. “In the end, who r
eally won?”
Moisture gathered in her eyes. No one, she wanted to say, but didn’t. Trinity and Memphis had been like two separate worlds. Each beckoning Paige to leave the other behind, but ultimately her father had prevailed.
“Nathan lost you and so did your daddy.”
Silas was right. Paige hadn’t spoken to her father in almost a year when she had gotten sick. Elliott Weston refused to fully accept the grandson sired by the likes of Nathan Blackrope. Her father was even angrier that Paige had opted not to stay with his law firm, but instead had become a public defender, which was less than acceptable in her father’s eyes. She’d tolerated his tongue-lashings and belittling lectures for as long as she could before putting an end to the situation. Paige stayed away from him and he stayed away from her. Then Paige’s cancer had been diagnosed. Reality had slapped her in the face, and she’d been forced to make a decision.
“It’s time to put the past behind you. Jesse needs Nathan. You”—he leveled a steady gaze on her—”need Nathan.”
Paige tried to respond, but couldn’t. She didn’t want to cry, not here, not now.
“You shouldn’t have waited this long,” Silas said sagely. “It shouldn’t have taken all this to bring you back to Trinity.”
“I had to do what I thought best at the time.”
Silas nodded, conceding her point. He sipped his bourbon and then asked, “When are you going to tell him?”
Paige pushed her plate away and folded her arms over her middle. “I want my son to be happy. I won’t put him in a situation that’s anything less than it should be. I have to see for myself if Nathan is... capable of being a father.”
“He already is, isn’t he?”
“Technically,” she allowed.
“Technically and otherwise, Nathan’s a good man, Paige. And you know it.” He raised a bushy, gray eyebrow at her. “Losing you cut him to the bone. He hasn’t been the same since.”
Paige tamped down the guilt and hurt that stirred with those words. “Nathan isn’t the only one who got hurt.”