Crashing Into You (Paragon Series Book 3)

by Juliana Stevens

  "We weren't looking at each other any kind of way," Denise protested, waving her friend off. She felt herself flushing thinking of Alex standing tall in front of her, flashing his brilliant smile that nearly made her stagger.

  "Yes, you were," Shelly teased as they walked back to the front of the store.

  "If he was looking at anyone, I'm sure it was you. You're the one with the glow."

  "Don't give me that! He had eyes only for you, even as I was groping him."

  "Yeah, what was up with you doing that?" Denise asked, unlocking the door and changing the sign over.

  "Are you judging me, Denise? You know I love Kyle, but did you see that man's chest? How about those arms, oh my!" Shelly exclaimed, fanning herself. "Come on, he's drop dead gorgeous! Even you have to see it!"

  "I noticed nothing," Denise said, feeling her face flush.

  "She says while she's blushing! You noticed, alright!"

  "Get out!" Denise laughed, pushing her friend out the door.

  "You don't have to admit it, but I know. I know," Shelly teased. "See you after work."

  "Bye!" Denise propped open the door to enjoy the breeze and waved Shelly off. She was still smiling as she walked back to the table, looking around, wondering what she could do. Lucky for her, the delivery guy came shortly after with a shipment of new books to sign for, and she hated to admit to herself how excited it made her.

  As she exchanged some of the books in the display window, Denise noticed Alex stepping out of a Jeep Wrangler in front of the store. He was much too good looking! For a brief second, she wondered what it would be like to run her hands along his arms as Shelly had done earlier. He caught her off guard by spotting her through the window and waving, and suddenly she felt silly hunched over as she was. When she stood up, she knocked over the small table she'd just placed a book on, which knocked over the other two tables inside the window. Why always so awkward, woman! she thought with a groan.

  "Let me help you with that," Alex said, rushing in.

  "That's okay," she said, but he was already beside her and picking up some of the books. He smiled over at her, and she felt her cheeks flush even more.

  "You are a jumpy person, aren't you?" he asked, grinning at her.

  "Usually not so much," she said, taking the books out of his hand and resetting them on the tables, feeling shakier than she liked.

  "Any of these for me?"

  "Excuse me?" she croaked out, her mind fully on his nearness and the smell of his cologne.

  "The book for my mom?"

  "No, she doesn't like hardback, thinks the paperbacks are much easier to read."

  "I knew that," he said with a boyish grin that was not lost on her.

  "I set one aside for her already," she said, walking to the register with Alex following close behind. Once they had the counter between them, she felt much more at ease. Settle down, he's just a guy, she told herself. A guy with a grin to knock one's socks off but a guy nonetheless.

  "I want to apologize," he said, taking her by surprise.

  "For what?"

  "For running out like I did earlier. I keep doing that, it seems."

  "You don't have to explain anything to me."

  "It felt rude."

  Denise looked down at her hands, unsure what to say, finding it hard to look at him. She thought she noticed a little sadness in his blue eyes and damn it if she didn't want to give him a big hug. That is, if she were the kind of person who gave hugs. "That's okay," she said, giving him a reassuring smile.

  "It seemed the other day you had a Miss Manners thing going on-"

  "Excuse me?" she interrupted defensively.

  "It seemed to bother you that I could be rude to a stranger. Like it was the end of the world or something."

  "Do you mean the way you yelled at me in the restaurant for accidentally bumping into you?"

  "Crashing into me, don't you mean?" he asked, but there was laughter in his voice and she felt herself soften.

  "Wow," she said, shaking her head. "Guess you're not going to let that one go, are you?"

  "I don't think I can."

  "Watch where you're going," she said, mocking his voice as best she could from the restaurant incident. "Now, that was rude."

  "You do a great impression of me," he said, laughing.

  "I'm very talented," she said, smiling back at him. Was she flirting with someone? Someone she didn't even like? Was this flirting? She hardly knew anymore.

  "Good to know," he said in a way that made her knees want to buckle.

  Not knowing what else to do, she reached under the counter and grabbed the book she'd set aside for Ms. Evans. "I'm sure your mom is waiting for this, so..."

  "Yes," he said, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket.

  "Would you like anything else?"

  "No. Thanks, though."

  "Mmm hmm," she murmured as she rang up his total. "Tell your mom I hope she feels better soon."

  "Will do." He stood staring at her for the briefest of seconds after he paid before waving and walking out the door. She forced herself not to turn and watch him drive away.

  What had gotten into her? She wasn't the flirty type, she never had been. Especially with someone like him. She knew he was only being charming suddenly because he didn't want her to be mean to his mom when she came into the store. Which, she could admit was kind of sweet of him. But, no! She would not fall for it, she would not feel flushed anymore when he came in or let her shyness get the better of her. He was heartbroken, and if he wanted to flirt with her to get over that or to kill time because he was bored, she wanted no part of it. She was no rebound woman. She wasn't any kind of woman, really, not in the dating world at least. She hadn't been for a long time.

  ******

  "Are you going to say it or am I going to have to pry it out of you?" Shelly asked as they lugged the rest of the many bags into Denise's house.

  "Say what?" she asked, teasing her friend.

  "Tell me you had fun!" Shelly practically shouted.

  Denise set her bags on the living room floor, laughing at Shelly's dramatics. "Okay, I admit it. I had fun. A lot of fun."

  "I'm so glad! You got so much good stuff. We're going to have so much fun putting everything up."

  "Not tonight, right? I'm so tired, I could pass out any second," she said, collapsing on the couch.

  "I guess! Only because you didn't sleep well last night and because you took a major step by getting everything. Tomorrow night? Oh, I work tomorrow, so I can't. But you have to promise me you'll do it."

  "I will," Denise insisted. "Lock the door on your way out, please."

  "On it. Get a good sleep," Shelly said as she shut the door behind her.

  Denise looked at all the bags around her and smiled. She really did have fun buying everything. Good old-fashioned fun. She'd almost forgotten what it was like. Just thinking of decorating her house put her in a good mood, a mood that felt foreign to her for so many years. Before she knew it, she was hanging up her new blue curtains. After that, she was in the bathroom changing out her shower curtain, then putting all her knick-knacks on shelves. A while later, the walls had pictures on them. Pictures of beaches and pretty flowers, and pictures of mountain tops all in different rooms throughout the house. Suddenly, it was three a.m. and she was passing out on her new tan and blue comforter. For the first time in a long time, she went to bed without a deep longing in her heart. She was much too tired for that.

  Chapter Seven

  "You let her see you!" Victor roared, barging into Grace's room. She'd been looking out the window, admiring the view before her. She slowly turned, taking a deep breath as she faced him. She could almost see the fire blazing in his dark eyes.

  "Hello, Victor," she said calmly. "It's been a few days."

  "Am I the only Paragon around here with any sense?" he bellowed. "Do you all feel the need to go around letting humans and the like see you?"

  "I have to wonder if you've been spying
on me, Victor," Grace said, and she smiled at his taking a deep breath to calm himself. She really had missed him and his fierce ways. He was not the only Anger Paragon that lived in Star Dania, but he was the oldest and her favorite. He was the only one of them who could truly control the constant fury inside him. She trembled, remembering what it felt like to have his anger inside of her. She'd been jealous of his love for another and it had gotten the better of her. She flipped her emotions from love to hate far too easily because of it, and it scared her to no end. She faced the window again, looking out at the splendor before her. She never tired of the lush grounds of Star Dania, and her room had a fantastic view of the lake surrounded by trees. She would rather look at it than Victor's handsome face.

  "You don't want to see me, I understand that, but I can't pretend I don't worry about you, Grace. You haven't been the same since..."

  "Since Charity left?" She finished his thought, facing him. "It's only been a couple months, Victor. She was a human and married in the blink of an eye. Am I not allowed any time to mourn the loss of it? I'm glad she's happy in her human life, but she was like a daughter to me. I miss her."

  "I know you do," he said, his rage subsiding. "Do you think it's worth the risk, I wonder, getting involved with someone like your widow? It's one thing to throw yourself into your work, but to let yourself be seen..."

  "It's not the first time I've done it, it won't be the last. What's come over you? It isn't as if Denise will automatically assume I'm a Paragon. She wouldn't have a clue of our existence. Even if she did, I would make her forget."

  "I know," he said, pacing.

  "What's going on?" She watched him move, noticed how his white shirt clung to his tan skin. He always wore a buttoned shirt untucked with black slacks perfectly fitted for his muscled form. Watching him made her want to sigh in pleasure. She almost gasped when he stopped pacing to face her, his stormy eyes looking her up and down slowly. She folded her arms across her chest, hoping he didn't notice how heavy she was breathing.

  "I thought," he said, shaking his head and looking away from her.

  "Thought what?"

  "I was afraid you had a desire to turn... to be..."

  "What?" She resisted the urge to go to him, to pull him in her arms. "To be a human?" she croaked out.

  "Yes." He faced her, and she saw torment flash in his eyes. "I can't lose you, Grace. Not you, too."

  "Victor," she said, disappointed. He was sad about Charity, it was always about her for him. She didn't fault him for it, but for once she would like to be something other than the sweet and loving Grace. She wanted to be seen as more than his friend. "I'm not Charity. I was never a human, so I could never be one. You know that. I haven't a clue why this conversation is happening. I need Denise in my life right now. Work will help get me through this. She's important, she gives me purpose. I think she needs me, too."

  "She never felt the anger after the loss of her husband. She might need me."

  "You looked in her memories?" Grace asked, irritated. "She's my job, Victor."

  "I know," he said, walking towards her before stopping himself. She was glad for it. "We can help her together."

  "No," she said, adamant. "Denise doesn't need you. This is a job for a Love Paragon. There's already someone who has potential."

  "The treat for the eyes guy, right?" he scoffed. "He's no good for anyone right now."

  "What do you know about it?"

  "I know what I know," he said casually.

  "I don't have time for this, Victor. Leave the humans to me. I don't need your help, I don't want it."

  "Is that how you feel?" he asked, hurt. She pushed aside the guilt and remembered he was no good for her. She was obviously too eager to lose control when he was around, and that was no good for anyone.

  "We can't keep doing this, you know it."

  "I miss you, Grace. Surely we can work through this. You've been in my life for a thousand years."

  "You forget I'm older. So, really it is you that has been a part of mine for so long. You forget, too, we've only really been friends for about seven of those years. You didn't want to handle my emotions before that."

  "It is a lot to handle." He smiled, something he didn't do often enough, and she yielded slightly.

  "I'll let you know if I need your help with Denise."

  "Thank you!" he said, excited. "I should go before you change your mind."

  "Victor, wait!" she called, and he faced her. "Stop spying on me, please."

  "I'll see what I can do," he said before walking out her bedroom door. She sighed, picking up the book she was reading earlier with little hope of being able to concentrate on it.

  Chapter Eight

  Monday morning came much too soon for Denise. For the first time in a long time, she wished someone else worked at the bookstore on the weekdays to cover for her. There had never been a reason for it, knowing Sandra or her husband would go in if she couldn't. The place wasn't busy enough to have more employees than herself, at least not without cutting her hours. So, she dragged herself out of bed. An hour later, she found herself at the bookstore, too tired even after two cups of coffee to wonder how she would get through the day. She regretted staying up late the night before, rearranging furniture and moving pictures around.

  By two, she was more than ready to take a break. She'd been going through the motions all day it seemed, straightening books on shelves and dusting and wiping down tables that were already clean. She was half tempted to lock up and take a cat nap on one of the bean bag chairs, but she was too scared she wouldn't wake up in time. As she locked up to go to the coffee shop, she noticed Alex pulling up in front of the store. She hadn't seen him since the week before, but he'd been on her mind since their last flirty encounter. She gave him a small smile and waved.

  "I promise I'm not stalking you," he said laughingly as a greeting when he reached her.

  "What's up?" she asked, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.

  "Big surprise, my mom needs a book. She's not feeling well again, and she finished the other one last night."

  "I'm sorry to hear it, I hope she feels better. It's not the flu, is it?" she asked, concerned.

  "Not at all. She just says she's feeling under the weather and pushes me away any time I try to check for a fever. She wants me to do all her bidding, I imagine. Trying to get back at me for all those times I never called her back," he said guiltily.

  Denise smiled. "Good. I'm sure you deserve it."

  "I see how it is," he laughed, then shrugged. "I guess I do, though. It looks like you're closing for lunch, I always do that to you."

  "I can open back up if you'd like, so you can pick out a book for her."

  "What's that?" he asked, amusement in his voice. "Was Denise Campbell just nice to me? I don't know how to act right now. My mom told me your last name, by the way."

  "I noticed," she said, feeling flushed. "And no need to act so surprised about me doing you a favor. I'm nice."

  "I'm sure you are," he said hoarsely, his blue eyes smoldering. Heat rushed through her body, and she stifled a moan. He cleared his throat. "You should have your lunch break. I'll come back."

  "Don't be silly," she said, already unlocking the door, if only to turn away from him, however briefly. "I was just going to grab a sandwich and coffee anyway, no big deal. I'm tired today," she added without meaning to.

  "Late night?" he asked, following her inside.

  "Can't take the chance of someone else coming in behind you," she said, ignoring his question and locking the door. "Does your mom have a particular book in mind?"

  "Your pick. If you don't mind, at least."

  "I can do that," she said, walking to the romance section with him close behind. "I'm sure I can remember what she has already."

  "She likes you a lot," he said, leaning against a shelf of romance novels, watching her while she pretended not to notice. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's faking this whole sickness thing to play matc
hmaker."

  She looked up at him, having no choice since he was so tall. Damn if he didn't look gorgeous as ever with his arms folded across his chest, smiling that charming smile. She wished she could control her blushes and fought the urge to get lost in his blue eyes. She forced herself to focus on the books in front of her. "She definitely has that one," she said aloud to herself, looking back at him when he laughed.

  "You're going to ignore me today?"

  "Impossible to do since you're a ridiculous presence these days," she answered more gloomily than she intended.

  "A ridiculous presence!" he repeated with a loud laugh that made her jump. "You're always so nervous."

  "No," she said as she feigned interest in the books again, unable to concentrate on any of the titles as his body inched closer.

  "Yes," he said, and she shook her head. "What do you mean by that?"

  "You're too tall and always here. How tall are you, anyway? It's ridiculous," she repeated, trying to inch away to no avail. He only followed her, wearing a boyish grin that set her nerves on edge.

  "Six-three. Why do I make you nervous, Denise?"

  "You don't," she said, breathless.

  "I think I do," he said, so close now. She thought for a second he would touch her face, but he ran his fingers down the spine of a book instead. She focused on those fingers far too long, mesmerized by them. What was wrong with her, she couldn't say. Damned if she didn't want to feel those fingers running through her hair, or along her neck, or watch them pulling off her sweater to caress her skin. Oh boy! She giggled out loud, actually giggled, realizing her own fingers were pressed against her lips. She shook her head and turned away.

  "You have a sexy laugh," he said, his voice husky. She grabbed a book, any book would do, and thrust it at him.

  "I can't for the life of me remember if she has this one," she said nonchalantly, as if her body wasn't on fire in desperate need of his touch.

  "Oof," he said, still trying to recover from a book being flung at his chest. "I'm almost positive she does."