Turning a New Paige

by Ginny B. Nescott

  “I am not telling my story to some handsome stranger in a strange, icy town, in an increasingly loud gay bar the day before Groundhog Day.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?”

  He took a long swallow and stole her last fry. Trying to be heard without shouting over the music, which had just pumped on, he said, “Tell it to me over dessert.”

  “What?” She motioned she couldn’t hear.

  He stood, slapped down far more money than was needed to cover the bill, and held his overcoat open to her.

  Paige was confused. She was more than confused. The gesture was more chivalrous than she was used to, but the warning bells engrained in her of stranger danger all went off at once.

  “I’m asking you out for dessert. Not for—”

  “Fucking hell,” a man interrupted as he entered and shook off snow before joining friends, laughing.

  “What he said,” Groundhog Man added. “Besides, Flee, I come equipped with a car brush and scrapper. I’m well equipped.”

  “Mmm, honey,” the red headed waiter said as he squeezed by. “Offer still stands about a little bit of exploring.”

  Paige closed her eyes. When she opened them, her hands were sliding into the coat. It was warm. So warm and smelled of aftershave. It smelled of a man who had his act together. His well-equipped act together. Plus, she liked dessert, especially pie.

  Chapter Two

  “Donuts? What about pie?”

  “Closed,” he said, opening the door to the donut shop.

  “Do you know what donuts do to my hips?” Flee asked as they entered.

  “They make you dance?” Michael couldn’t see her hips through his coat, which hung low on her, but he did make out a wiggle as she scuttled from one foot to the other for warmth. Actually, he couldn’t see much until he unwrapped his Burberry scarf and shook the snow loose. They had walked the few blocks to Curry Donuts, and the ice hung on him.

  “Local donut shop,” he said. “Besides, it’s part of the breakup special. A dozen of the best,” he added, his teasing words hanging on his lips.

  Was she blushing cherry red? Or perhaps the warmth of the brightly lit shop made her cheeks that color. “How is it you can make donuts sound…salacious?”

  Had he known her better, his hands would have gone to her face to warm her. Instead, his eyebrows rose as did his laugh. “A vocabulary and a Southern drawl. Very enticing, Flee, as are all of these.” He pointed to the case and wall of donuts behind it. “Care to pick a few?”

  There. Deflected.

  While she looked to the case, he took in her profile. Dark blonde with a brightness about her. Natural. Sweet. A few years younger than he was. Not bad at all.

  She smiled with a flash to her gray eyes. The cold brought a pink to her tanned cheeks. “Hmm, I prefer glazed and sugar-dusted to being goo-filled.”

  “Ahem.” A grinning high school aged boy behind the counter added his debauching grin to her comment. “What? I don’t like the frosting goo, either. Some cream filling is good though.”

  Groundhog Man cleared his throat, and with a slight almost imperceptible shake to his head, the boy stopped midway through his squeak of a laugh. “Let’s start with three chocolate-glazed and whatever our southern guest wants.”

  Flee pointed and gave requests. Soon a dozen donuts filled a box, and they ordered coffee and hot cocoa.

  By the time she took her first sip of cocoa, she told him she had been laid off, came from Atlanta, and that her ex-boyfriend was a jerk. He sipped and noted the word “ex” had slipped in more than once. By the time the third bite of donut sugar had coated her lips, she told him she grew up in Carolina but her mother was originally from around here and was her confidante.

  As she finished her first donut, she explained that her dad and older brothers were protective of her and probably would have asked her to move back home had they known. Also, that her welcoming aunt sounded more like a fictional character than a part of her family.

  He listened. He sipped. He finally bit into his own donut. “Mmmmmm.” His response to a soft light donut with chocolate glazing, came out in a heady growl.

  Her narrative stopped. She swallowed hard.

  “Oh. Sorry. These are my downfall. Here, try it,” he said, pushing his plate to her, his fingertips grazing her hand. Her hand hesitated there but then turned to the box and pulled out her own chocolate glaze.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” She bit deeply into the donut.

  He smiled at seeing the flustered expression she tried to hide. “Hey, now. Those were mine. You picked all the rest.”

  “You said a dozen. So, the way I see it, they’re all mine, and you, sir, are eating from my box.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You really didn’t just say that.”

  She didn’t show any sign of noticing the double meaning. “I did. Any objections?”

  “None, whatsoever.” None other than the rise beneath his fly. “Far be it from me to make a lascivious comment about box eating. I will, however, rectify the error.” He stood up and walked toward the door, leaving Flee looking dumfounded. When at the last second, he turned toward the counter, her shoulders visibly relaxed. He couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she tried to portray.

  He returned to the table with donut replacements.

  “You really didn’t have to do that.” She gestured to the box. “Who’s going to eat all those?”

  He shrugged. “Not my problem. All yours. I am a man of my word and don’t want to besmirch my good name.”

  “Which is…”

  “For today and tomorrow? Groundhog Man as you so dubbed me.” He placed the donuts into the box, over filling it.

  “You mean I’m stuck with the name, Flee?”

  He smiled and shook his head. He reached for her hand. It was soft and cool to the touch. “Care to tell me yours?”

  “Paige. I’m just Paige. It’s my middle name, but that’s what everyone calls me apart from you, of course. You’re different.” She took her hand away and brushed back a fallen strand of hair.

  “Thankfully.” He smiled. He actually liked that she considered him apart from others.

  She looked quizzically at him.

  “Aren’t you glad I’m not like that…whoever that lug is in Buckhead? He clearly has no appreciation of women or relationships by the way. He seems like a fool to let you go. That much I do know.”

  “Groundhog Man, you’re just saying that to flatter me.”

  “No. I’m saying that because you need to understand that before we can move on. I know how it works. I only have a few hours until my birthday, and I don’t want to spend that time being compared to some idiot. I want you to like me for my own idiocy.”

  “And your donuts. I could like you for your donuts.”

  He raised his coffee mug to her cocoa. “My donuts are special. Very large and special.”

  “Oh Pu-leeeze.” Paige rolled her eyes as she rose.

  “Would warm be better? Sticky? I really didn’t want to go with doughy. Would tasty have done the trick?”

  “I need to go to the restroom.”

  “Not going to be ill, are you? I wasn’t that objectionable.”

  She just smiled and shrugged playfully. “A girl does need some relief.”

  He watched her move to the back of the shop, admiring the view a bit more than he expected. His snowbound, birthday weekend held the promise of getting better and better.

  ****

  Paige looked in the mirror, mumbling to herself, “I am in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania in a donut shop called Curry, coming from a gay bar, hanging with a strange man with no name. My hair is a mess. Whatever make up I had on is long worn off.” She stopped her tirade in the mirror, turned, sniffed at her armpits, and shrugged. “Okay, at least I don’t smell.”

  Lights flickered in the plain but clean bathroom as she washed her hands and face in the lovely warm water. She moved to the blower to
dry her hands and fluffed her hair in the process, relishing the warm jet of air on her face. With a swipe of lipstick, she felt more herself and left the restroom.

  Groundhog Man’s smile widened as she approached their table in a now empty shop. A teasing flash flickered across his face.

  “What? I know my lipstick isn’t smeared.” She sat down and waited for his answer.

  He leaned forward and ran his hand over her hair, combing down a section that stuck straight out. The act, though innocent on his part, felt very intimate to Paige. Her breath caught. He must have noticed, since he leaned in further, cupped her face, and—before her mind could grapple with it—he kissed her! It was a tiny whisper of a kiss.

  Paige tried to speak, but words stuck as her heart raced.

  He kissed her again. This time, his lips lingered, drawing hers to his.

  She finally managed to speak, “What are you doing?”

  He held back his smile, but his eyes laughed. “I’m kissing you. Like this…” Fully leaning over the corner of the table and pulling her closer, he kissed her with a deep soft moan.

  Fire rolled into her. “I…I don’t know your name.”

  “Make one up…like you did.” He kissed her again.

  “Paige is my name,” she said in a hushed voice when his lips lifted off hers. When had her hands landed on his shoulders?

  “Mmmmmm, great name.” He brushed her hair back and kissed near her ear, whispering, “Love the name, Flee. Paige.” He drew out her name.

  To her own internal objections, she was melting. It lasted but a moment. Lights flickered notably, obviously due to the employee with his hand on the switch.

  “Uh. Okay. Hey there, customers. Closing early,” the donut clerk announced.

  Groundhog Man let go of Paige and straightened to pull out a bill from his wallet. “I can tip.”

  “Okay, ten more minutes then.” The young clerk smiled and stared at them.

  Groundhog Man glared at the staring clerk before reaching for Paige again. She stifled a giggle. The clerk just crossed his arms.

  Groundhog Man sighed. “Right.” He walked firmly up to the clerk, who backed up to the wall of empty bins and let out a small eek. Instead of threatening him, Groundhog Man slid money to him and whispered something.

  The boy smiled and nearly ran to the back. The store lights went off. Street lights reflecting on the snow spilled in through the window. It threw a glow to his caramel skin, making his light brown eyes turn to an amber as he approached the table.

  “Do you always get your way?” she asked suspiciously.

  Groundhog Man shook his head, smiling broadly. “Not much actually. But it’s close to my birthday, and I wanted to taste the cinnamon sugar on your lips.”

  Paige reached for her lips. “I don’t have anything on my lips.”

  He bit into a donut, making sure to rub the sugar on his mouth, and kissed her. “Now you do.”

  She laughed.

  “I like that laugh, Paige. Would like to hear it more, and not just for the next few minutes.” He moved in close, his hands rubbing her arms, and kissed her again. She tasted the cinnamon on his lips. Their arms gravitated around each other, kissing deeply. His moan cut into her. It sent a shiver deep inside her belly. It wasn’t a shiver of cold but of a need she’d suppressed. Her nipples hardened under her clothing, making her return his voracious kiss with her probing tongue. His moan deepened.

  Cough. “Ahem. I really have to close, guys.” The kid was back. “Boss said it’s time.”

  “Uh huh,” Groundhog Man said, but his gaze never broke from hers.

  “Time to flee?” Paige giggled and broke from him and the moment. She pulled on his coat, gathered her purse, and headed toward the door.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  She stopped and turned, still reeling from his fire-hot kiss. “Happy birthday?”

  “Thanks, but that’s not it.” He wrapped his scarf around his neck.

  “Oh, you want your coat.”

  “Not yet.”

  “You aren’t expecting me to thank you for that make-out session, are you?”

  He shook his head and nodded to the donut box.

  Paige stepped back to the table and picked up the forgotten box. Leaning into the man who had just made her skin flush with hunger, she whispered, “Thank you, Groundhog Man.”

  His breath caught, and his crooked grin widened. His hand moved to her arm.

  “Ahem!” The donut clerk broke in. He held out a plastic bag for the box and placed it inside. Sleet pinged against the glass window, and he looked at them. “Here you both go. Trash bags. Face and arm holes cut. You wear it like this.” The clerk pulled a bag over his head and arms through the holes cut midway. “Might help you wherever you’re going.”

  “Hey thanks, bro.” Groundhog Man took the two bags the kid held out. “You’re all right after all.”

  “Momma always said to wear protection. You two looked like you needed it.” The boy let out a squeaking laugh as the three of them left the building, locking the door behind them.

  “Cold! Forgot how cold it is.” Paige turned her face from the wind. The trash bag at least protected her from the sting of the sleet. She held to Groundhog Man’s gloved hand with her own thin glove.

  They tugged in different directions.

  “Where are you going, Flee?” he asked.

  “My car.”

  “Aren’t you in the garage?”

  “What garage? I parked in the square.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Did.” She looked at him directly. “Why?”

  A loud rumble with a booming scraping sound eclipsed his answer. The snow plow pushed through the street, shoving mounds of icy snow to the side. It moved in the direction of her car. Paige let go of his hand and ran, half stomping across the un-shoveled walks, sliding on ice covered patches, having only clogs on her feet.

  He caught her easily, holding to her before the next step could send her flying. “Careful now,” he said, slowing her pace.

  It wasn’t needed. She stood stock still and stared at the mound of snow before them. “My car’s already buried.”

  “Your car is under all that? Sorry, Flee—Paige. It looks like it’s been stuck for a while.” Ice chunks and snow competed for most coverage. Her car was buried and iced in. “You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

  She moved to the driver’s side and banged at the locked door. What could be seen of the window was iced over and the lock was frozen.

  “My clothes are in there.” She started to scratch at the ice near the car lock. Her movements were desperate while he, too, tried the passenger side. “I will not give up.” Bang. Scratch, scratch, rub, scratch. “I hate being such a damsel in distress. So not like me.”

  “I’m trying this door, too. Looks like the trunk is buried under completely and a lost cause,” he called to her over her thickly covered car. “Do you have anything vital in the car?”

  She rubbed her hands across the frozen window and peered in. “Not really, except Hedgy’s in the front though.”

  “Do you have an animal in there?” he asked, shouting over the car.

  She nodded and saw the look of horror on his face. “I mean no. I found my stuffed animal Hedgy when I was packing to leave. I lost him for years and just found him. When I was five…”

  He moved to her side of the car, partly dodging a blast of icy wind. “Nice reunion story. Can we save it for later? The wind is gusting, and someone is borrowing my warm coat. Do you have any winter clothing in there?

  “I’m coming from Atlanta. What do you think?” She attempted an expression of toughness. That façade of strength soon gave way as she thought of her predicament going from bad to dire. She was exhausted and cold with her possessions locked away under thick ice and snow. Tears edged closer.

  Groundhog Man failed at unlocking her car. “I think I am freezing, and you are coming with me.”

  She
was bordering on panic, which translated to a thickening of her drawl. “I am not that kind of a girl.”

  “You might not be, but you will be a frozen kind if we don’t get inside soon.” He smiled warmly, puffs of his breath visible in the cold. “C’mon. There’s a sofa in my room. I’m about five minutes that way in a B & B. You can figure it out from there.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. It was a mistake. Instead of clearing her head, her breath froze her lungs, blocking further thought. The bitter cold took hold of her. He was right. She desperately needed to be in a warm place.

  He put his arm around her, guiding her. She took one last look at her buried car, memorizing its spot as the snow kept falling. Music still poured out of Sizzle nearby. He held tight to her as she clung to her purse and donuts, the only worldly possessions she had at that moment. That and his coat and a plastic bag over her head that smelled vaguely of donuts and pot.

  Chapter Three

  Paige stirred, curling against something, awareness only half creeping in. She fought exhaustion to assess where she was. And that was in her panties and bra, in a bed—a gorgeous bed. She was nuzzling something warm and large. Not something, she realized but a someone. She was in a bed with a stranger beside her!

  She quickly rolled away, clutching the comforter, suddenly very awake. Her mind reeled. It was still night. She looked over at him as he slept. Groundhog Man. Handsome Groundhog Man.

  Her thoughts flashed back to the trudge in the snow, the dripping coats and wet shoes left near the kitchen to dry. The bed and breakfast! She recalled the mansion was incredible even in the dim light, all the dark antiques, curtains, and stained glass, though she’d only had a glance on the way to his room.

  When they had arrived in the room, the curtains were open, lights on, showing a deep red brocade on the walls, scattering of ornate, walnut furniture pieces, and a bed suited for royalty in plums, crimsons, and purples. Enchanting. But she’d been too wet and cold to take it all in.

  “And you expect me to just jump into bed with you?” Paige remembered asking.

  “Expect? No. Hope? Wildly. Think you will?” He wiggled his eyebrows and turned to take off his suit jacket.