The Way You Love Me

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The Way You Love Me Page 7

by Unknown

“You want to make your place as welcoming as possible.” Paige delicately licked sauce from the corner of her mouth.

  “And besides, if we stick with smaller molding, it won’t be as expensive. Wider pieces would overpower the area,” Shane said, trying not to stare at Paige’s quick little tongue and imagine it on his body. “And as Paige said, Noah and I can handle the grunt work.”

  “If you’re sure. I—”

  “We’re sure,” Noah said, interrupting his sister from his place beside her in the booth. “Your thing is interior design. You’re good at what you do.”

  “Oh, Noah,” she bemoaned, shaking her head at him. “Helping Mrs. Hill and a few of her neighbors is no testament to my ability.”

  “It is since more of your foster mother’s friends want your services.” Paige picked up her cola. “But next time they pay you.”

  “But—”

  Again Gayle was cut off, this time by Paige. “But nothing. They pay for your bus ride plus an hourly salary.”

  “As a grunt worker, I’d agree. People will use you unless you stop them.” Shane polished off his sliced beef sandwich.

  “I bet no one ever got one over on you,” Noah said.

  “They tried,” Shane said. “Now if everyone is finished, we can get to the home improvement store if we’re going to go back and do the molding.” Before his words were out of his mouth, Noah, Gayle, and Paige were scrambling from the table.

  Shane hadn’t been around young adults very much, but he couldn’t imagine two happier ones than Gayle and Noah selecting exactly the perfect molding, then proudly carrying the pieces of lumber to the cashier.

  “Thank you,” Paige said, standing beside Shane as Noah and Gayle watched the clerk ring up their purchases.

  “For the muscle?” he asked.

  “For treating them as if they matter, for validating Gayle’s ideas,” Paige said in an aside as they stood a few feet behind them.

  “She’ll get over her shyness and gain the confidence she needs,” he said. “She reminds me of someone else I kn—”

  “I’m telling you there’s not enough on the cards to cover the purchase,” the cashier said, turning the readout around for Noah and Gayle to see.

  Worried, Paige rushed up to the register. “There must be a mistake. How much is the total?”

  “Ninety-nine dollars and seventy-eight cents.” Noah, his lips tight, dug into his jean pocket for his wallet. “I have the rest.”

  Gayle’s hand on his stopped him. “No. That money is earmarked for groceries and a deposit on a phone. We’ll just put everything back.”

  “No, wait. Russell said . . . ,” Paige began, then looked at the fifty-dollar total of the gift cards and reached for the purse slung over her shoulder.

  “I got this.” Shane handed the clerk a fifty-dollar bill. “Consider it my contribution. Besides, I want to see how Gayle’s and my ideas work.”

  Paige flushed. “I’m sorry. There must be some mistake. Russell assured me it was a generous amount.”

  Shane handed the receipt and bag of inserts to Gayle. “Come on, Gayle, we’ll have the man in lumber cut these for us.”

  “Gayle, Noah, I’m sorry,” Paige repeated.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Gayle told her, catching her arm and following Shane. “Without you, I don’t want to think of where we’d be.”

  Noah caught her other arm. “She’s right. Things happen. Besides, we learned one of those valuable life lessons you’re always talking about.”

  “What?” Paige asked as they stopped behind the CAUTION sign at the cutting area.

  “First impressions are generally on target.”

  Shane saw Paige flinch. Even the kid had Russell’s number. Shane just hoped Paige woke up as well.

  After returning to the apartment, they varnished the cabinet moldings and painted those for the kitchen walls. As everything dried in another room, they sanded, then washed, the cabinets. Shane attached the crown molding, inserts, and chair railing. Paige, Noah, and Gayle varnished the cabinets, then watched as Shane, with Noah’s help, affixed the front molding.

  “It’s beautiful. Shane, you and Gayle were right,” Paige said, staring at the sparkling kitchen with cabinetry that now stood out, and the distinctive yellow crown molding and chair railing.

  “Instead of a computer, I think we’ll get a few area rugs.” Gayle frowned down at the faded linoleum on the kitchen floor, the threadbare carpet in the living area. “The floors really stand out now, and not in a good way.”

  “The furniture will take care of that,” Noah, ever the optimist, assured her. “Just think, tomorrow night we’ll be sleeping in our own place.”

  Excitement shone in their faces. “What time did you say the mover was coming?” Gayle asked.

  “One o’clock,” Paige said, her face not as bright as it had once been. “Let’s lock up, and we’ll take you home.”

  Gayle and Noah looked around the place one last time, then headed out the door. Paige started after them, but stopped when Shane caught her arm. “His fault, not yours.”

  “How . . .” She shook her head. “You wasted your talents in computers. What else are you good at?”

  His black eyes, hot and penetrating, stared down at her. “Any number of things.”

  She’d meant it as a joke. The sizzling passion in his eyes was anything but. Her awakening body stirred, yearned. She wondered what it would feel like to have his strong hands all over her body loving her, stroking her. The little smile on her face died. “Shane—”

  “Are you two coming?” Noah yelled.

  Breaking away, Paige quickly escaped. Shane let her go. This was worse than he had anticipated. He wanted a woman he couldn’t have, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Paige was determined that there would be no more nonsense between her and Shane. He saw too much and she felt too much when she looked at him, saw him looking back at her. As soon as they entered the house, she thanked him again, said good night, then hurried to her room. But that wasn’t the only reason.

  Picking up the phone by the bedside, she dialed Russell’s cell. It was past twelve, but he kept it on all the time for his clients to reach him. She knew Noah didn’t trust or like Russell. Perhaps with good reason.

  Russell had insisted he drive them during Noah and Gayle’s search for an apartment. At the first stop they’d come back out of the apartment with the manager to hear Russell on his cell telling someone that he was busy with another of Paige’s charity cases.

  He’d tried to explain that he meant her work in general and not them. She had wanted to believe him, but thought it best for Russell to take her home to get her car. Knowing how Noah and Gayle felt about him, she’d never involve Russell again. He’d volunteered to help paint and offered the gift cards.

  “Hello,” he said after the sixth ring, sounding out of breath.

  “Russell, are you all right?” she questioned. Russell took great pride in taking care of his body. He ran three miles every morning.

  “Paige,” he said, surprise evident in his voice.

  She’d never called anyone except Zach this late. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but this is important. The gift cards you called generous were only twenty-five dollars each.”

  There was the briefest of pauses, then, “What! There has to be some mistake.”

  Paige had been holding her breath, then felt disloyal for ever doubting Russell. He wouldn’t be that cruel. Yet for a little while she’d thought that perhaps Shane and Noah were right. “Do you have the receipts?”

  “No, I didn’t think it necessary.”

  “How much was each for?” she asked, almost blurting out the question, pacing as she waited for an answer. “You said it would be generous.”

  “Two hundred dollars each” came the quick reply.

  Relieved, she plopped on the side of the bed. “Thank you, Russell. They could really use that money.”

  “Sorry you had to supplemen
t them. Of course I’ll reimburse you.”

  “Not me, Shane.” For some odd reason she became restless and stood.

  “He was there?”

  You weren’t, she almost told him. Instead she said, “The entire afternoon. He really made a difference.”

  “Be careful, Paige,” Russell warned, his voice sharpening. “You’re so naive and trusting. He’s unemployed and sponging off your mother. He looks shifty.”

  Mouthwatering always, shifty—never. And she was tired of people thinking her naive. Yes, she trusted people, expected the best out of them. And because she did, she was willing to give Russell the benefit of the doubt.

  “He stepped in at the luncheon to help, at the apartment, and then tonight. He’s been there when I needed him.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wished she could call them back. She should have said when we needed him. From Russell’s silence, he had caught the slip.

  “My skills with the computer probably rival his, and anyone can paint,” he said dismissively.

  Pointing out that he hadn’t offered a solution at the luncheon and that anyone couldn’t paint would only lead to an argument, and she was tired. “Russell, I have the receipt and the gift cards. Monday we can go to the store and straighten this out. You always pay with your credit card so it should be easy to track.”

  There was dead silence on the line.

  “They could use that money, and I don’t want a computer glitch shortchanging them,” she said.

  “I’ll be busy, but I’ll try to work it in,” he said slowly.

  “Thank you, Russell. Good night.” She hung up, the niggling doubt creeping back. She pushed it away. Russell wasn’t fond of her working with foster children, but he wouldn’t lie about the amount on the gift card.

  Would he?

  Chapter 6

  Paige was awake when her alarm went off Sunday morning at seven. She’d slept poorly and had finally given up, gotten out her laptop, and set to work. She’d planned to work on the list of donors for the next fund-raiser, but hadn’t been able to keep her mind off Shane.

  Sighing, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard. He moved her, scared her. Her body reacted too hungrily to his. Once her body awakened she didn’t seem able to control her response to Shane. Not only that, his opinion of her mattered. Too much. She didn’t even try to tell herself it was a reflection of the old Paige who wanted, needed to please everyone so they’d like her.

  She wasn’t that needy anymore. Yet every time she had required help, Shane had been there. No situation seemed to throw him. It was comforting to be around someone that self-assured.

  And like Noah, Shane thought she’d let Russell get one over on her. She’d seen that pitying look too many times in the past not to recognize it. Blowing out a breath, she saved the document and shut down the computer. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing that look again. She’d purposefully set the alarm early so she’d be gone by the time he and her mother got up.

  Placing the laptop on her desk in the corner by the French doors, she picked up the undergarments she’d laid out the night before and went to take a bath. Then, dressed in a white suit with a small crownless black hat and black patent-leather heels, she picked up her purse and hurried down the stairs.

  “Morning, Paige.”

  On hearing Shane call her name she stopped dead in her tracks and whirled, her breath hitching when she saw him coming from the direction of the kitchen. How could one man be so breathtakingly handsome? He wore a cream-colored sports jacket that showed his wide shoulders and incredible physique to perfection.

  “Shane,” she finally managed, when she got her tongue unstuck from the roof of her mouth, and continued to the foot of the stairs.

  “Your mother has breakfast ready,” he said, coming toward her with that slow, sexy walk of his.

  She just had to ask. “How did you know I was up?” Stopping in front of her, he gave her another heart-stopping smile. “The pipe in your bathroom knocks when the water in the shower or tub runs.”

  Her face grew warm at the thought of Shane knowing she was naked. From the way the smile slowly slid away, the way his dark eyes narrowed on her mouth, he had thought about it, too. Oh, mercy.

  “Breakfast is getting cold,” called her mother.

  “Coming,” Shane answered. Taking Paige’s arm, he led her to the kitchen and held out a chair.

  “Good morning, Mother,” Paige greeted, hoping her voice sounded normal instead of hot and bothered.

  “Good morning, Paige,” her mother called. She was standing in front of the stove scrambling eggs in a large skillet. “I know you have a big day, and I wanted you to have a good breakfast.”

  Paige looked at Shane as he patiently held a chair for her. “Guilty,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, of course not.” Paige gratefully took her seat at the table set for three. Her legs weren’t too steady. If just a look, a touch unsettled her, what would happen if he molded his sensual mouth to hers? Caressed her tongue with his? Heat flooded her face. She tucked her head. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, his voice deep. His sensual gaze swept over her like a velvet caress. For a wild moment her breath stalled, her gaze clung to his tempting mouth, then he turned away. “I’ll get the platter of eggs.”

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Albright said, following Shane to the table and taking the chair he held out for her.

  “Thank you for cooking.” Shane took his seat. “Another wonderful reason for waking up in the morning.”

  Desperately seeking control over her wild reaction to Shane, Paige looked up, knowing she’d find him watching her. Her stomach muscles quivered. She might be fighting a losing battle.

  “I’ll say grace so we can eat,” her mother said.

  Paige quickly bowed her head to pray, silently asking to remain the sensible woman she prided herself on being. Finished, she lifted her head, saw Shane’s mobile mouth curve into a seductive smile across the table at her, and accepted that Shane was the kind of man who could make a sensible woman enjoy sin.

  “What’s the agenda for today? Do you plan for us to be there before the furniture arrives?” Shane asked, passing her the platter of meat.

  The platter wobbled in her hand. “Us?” Without being asked, he was volunteering to help. Again. She didn’t even think of trying to talk him into not going, and was a bit ashamed that she had planned to leave him out today because of her inability to control her body around him. Her problem. Not his. “Yes. But knowing how impatient Noah is, he’ll be there by twelve.”

  “I can’t blame him,” Shane said, exchanging the meat platter for one of eggs. “I’m no decorator, but the place looked great.” He handed the pancakes to Mrs. Albright. “You should see it.”

  “I’d like to, if Paige doesn’t mind,” Mrs. Albright said, a bit tentative.

  “Of course not,” Paige quickly said, finding that she meant it. Shane had accomplished something else: He’d eased the tension between her and her mother. “You took Gayle to estate sales and persuaded your friends to donate or sell furnishings at an affordable price. Thanks to you, their place is going to be fabulous, but even more, a real home with furnishings they can be proud of.”

  “Seems you two make a good team.” Shane cut into his pan sausage.

  “I enjoyed it,” Mrs. Albright said. “Gayle has a good eye for color and detail. She’ll succeed.”

  “So will Noah.” Paige drizzled maple syrup over her pancakes. “He’s a natural.”

  “For what?” Shane asked.

  “Psychology. He likes to figure people out,” she said, thinking of his opinion of Russell. “He’s good at it.”

  “He’s had to be to survive, but for others it takes longer,” Shane said.

  Paige busied herself with her food, wondering if he was right, and if he was talking about her.

  Holding Mrs. Albright’s and Paige’s arms, Shane escorted them down the steep
steps of one of the largest churches in Atlanta. It had been a long time since he’d been inside a church. If there was one place that supposedly accepted you as you were, it was here. The problem with that was the people in the church didn’t always have the same forgiving attitude.

  “Joann. Paige.”

  Shane felt both women tense beside him. Rushing toward them was a smartly dressed woman in a tight-fitting lilac suit with a hat, bag, and gloves to match. He recognized her immediately. Russell’s mother wore the same disapproving expression as her son on seeing Shane for the first time. Stopping in front of them, her critical gaze swept from his bare head to the off-the-rack wing tips.

  “Hello, Tess,” Joann and Paige greeted, then Joann continued. “Tess, I’d like you to meet Shane Elliott. Shane, this is Tess Crenshaw, Russell’s mother.”

  “Mrs. Crenshaw,” Shane greeted.

  Mrs. Crenshaw barely tilted her head, causing the lilac feather in her wide-brimmed hat to waver slightly. “I heard you had a houseguest,” she said, speaking to Joann.

  “Yes,” Paige answered. “Shane’s mentor and Mother were roommates at Vassar.”

  “Really,” she said, then ignored Shane and spoke to Paige. “Russell is at his place working. When we spoke this morning, all he could talk about was you.” She touched Paige’s jacketed arm. “We all love you. I was hoping that you two might unite our families the way your father wanted.”

  “I . . . Russell knows how I feel.” Paige flushed and threw a sideways glance at Shane.

  Tess frowned as if she didn’t know how to take that answer. “His father and I are going to the club for brunch. We’d love for you and your mother to join us. Your guest, too, of course.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Crenshaw, but we have other plans,” Paige said.

  “Oh?” Mrs. Crenshaw responded, lines pleating her forehead.

  “Two of Paige’s friends are moving today, and she’s helping them,” Joann explained.

  “Anyone I know?” Tess asked.

  “No, but you met them,” Paige said. “Noah and Gayle Mathis.”

  “The two indigents I met at your parents’ house?” Mrs. Crenshaw asked with an affronted lift of her perfectly arched brow.

 

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