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Turning a New Paige

Page 8

by Ginny B. Nescott


  “Neither do you,” Michael retorted.

  “That’s the problem.”

  “How’s that a problem? Look, we’ll figure all this out after we’ve had some rest.”

  “Why are you so…so…self-assured?” She spat out the word as if it were suddenly a horrible quality. “And so calm, so…glib about this?” She pulled her arm away from his.

  “Older, wiser?” He tried not to smile. “Less red-wine filled?”

  She glared in response.

  He tried again. “Because I got you, babe, and baby, you got me? Oh, Flee, c’mere. This isn’t what either of us expected, but…” He tilted up her chin and looked into her eyes again. “I want to work this out. I want to be with you.”

  “I do, too. Just don’t know how. I have no idea where I’m going.” There. She said it. The real problem or, at least, another facet of it.

  “Oh, Flee. Paige. Look, you’re heading to your aunt’s, your grandparents’ house, however you look at it. I am in the area for another month or two. Can we continue and see where this goes?”

  She wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t control the skeptical twist of her frown.

  “Flee, I want it to go somewhere, too.”

  “For what? A month or six weeks like the others? Or are you going to be like your fiancée and transfer?”

  “You know that isn’t fair, Paige. She was older and did a number on me. It wasn’t six weeks. You don’t know.”

  She answered with a quiet chagrin to her voice, “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.” She turned and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, crying on his shoulder, her thoughts mixing together.

  “I’m feeling…well…scared and amazed and…oh, I’m so damn confused.” She suddenly stood and paced. “All of this is happening so fast. And I don’t swear. Daddy would have my head if he knew I f’ing swore.”

  “I won’t tell.”

  “Damn well better not.” She almost smiled.

  “Hmm, you swore again.” He picked up her phone. “Look, this contact button says Home. Should I push it?”

  “Give me that back,” she demanded.

  He held it up high.

  “Real mature, Groundhog Man,” she complained but was smiling, his playfulness infectious. She reached over head for her cell.

  “Hello?” A voice came over the phone, surprising them both.

  “Oh, Mom, hello.” Paige yanked the phone out of Michael’s hands and glared at him. He returned a cheesy grin. “No nothing wrong. Didn’t know it was late. Mmm hmm. Got stuck in a town in PA… Uh huh… Yes. Tomorrow if the roads are clear… Yes. Of course, I remembered to floss and eat veggies. No. A break up is no reason to stop taking care of my body. Uh huh. Take antacid if I eat something hot. You know me and liking a bit a flavor.”

  By now, Groundhog Man was grinning and pointing to himself at the word flavor. She shooed him away, trying to dodge his passing tickle. She squeaked.

  “What? Nope, I can’t say I miss Davis. Not one bit, surprisingly. Okay. Goodnight Mom. Oh Mom,” Paige paused and ended the call with, “I love you.” She reflexively turned, when, at that same moment, Michael stepped into view. She happened to be looking straight at him when she spoke the last words to her mother.

  Her breath caught. She blanched at the implication that those words could have been directed to him. Had he heard her?

  He gave no indication but moved to her and held her gingerly. Exhaustion won over her battle of emotions and wine drinking. She held onto him, easing her full weight against him. He rocked her gently, and his hand brushed down her hair. She relaxed to a sweet lull as he rubbed her back. They hugged for a while before he turned down the bedding. He tucked her into bed, climbed in next to her, and gave her whispers of kisses. It filled her with a heady haze. Not sexual but one of warmth and caring…contentment. Her breathing relaxed and deepened.

  She was nearly asleep when Michael whispered, “I’m confused, too, you know. I’m supposed to be the mature one. And here I am, falling for you.” In a barely audible whisper, he said, “One day I want to hear you say those words to me.”

  Somewhere in a half-waking dream, she absorbed the whispers from her lover. An incredible lover, in the dark night, in an elegant bed and breakfast, in a small, snowy city. Whispers of promised love.

  Her mind replayed a mantra of the words, “Michael” and “meant to be.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Morning came. It came with a harsh brightness to Paige. The storm had passed, and the temperature warmed slightly. Icy surfaces reflected light all the stronger. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and heard a tapping noise. She looked over and saw that Michael was still working hard at his managerial or technical task of some sort.

  She looked down. She was still in the clothing from last night. Hung over, her head was foggy at best as pieces of the night came back to her. Not just the fun dinner or the lingering delicious shower, but the wine and…oh no…their discussion.

  Knowing she had to look like death warmed over, she dashed to the restroom to freshen up and to give her reflection a good talking to.

  “This whole time, Michael was, well, incredible,” she told herself as she squeezed toothpaste onto her toothbrush, finally using her own toiletries. “Really increbibble.” She spat out the toothpaste and rinsed, then looked at her complexion. It did glow a bit. She smiled and began brushing her hair. Her dopey grin vanished, and her eyebrows furrowed. “But he said all those nice things because he had to. Ya put ‘im on the spot. He did seem genuine, though.”

  Her brush strokes lengthened, and her face brightened. She stopped in mid-stroke of the brush and shook her head. “Nope. He just thinks you’re a vacation, a dalliance, a dream.” Paige sighed a school girl sigh and put away the brush. “What a dream.”

  “No, no, no, missy! Dreamy or no, you need to move on.” She started to floss but stopped with the string in her mouth. “You just had too much truth juice last night.”

  She rinsed again and did her makeup very lightly as she preferred. Even with the talking to she gave herself, deep down, she knew she wasn’t convinced. Groundhog Man had stolen her heart. She’d need it back and soon. Well, sometime, at least.

  Returning to the bedroom, Paige tried not to be obvious as she collected her things, but Michael looked up from his laptop and waved her over, taking off his headphones. “Morning, sweet stuff.”

  She looked at him, not sure what to make of the newest nickname. He clicked something and stood up, rubbing his hands together and smiling. More new things.

  “Um, sorry for the Cabernet show I put on last night.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” He pulled her in close and hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead. He said something that sounded like, “Ya way lo hottie” followed by “Let it go.”

  He kissed her lips. “Mmm. Minty. Are you okay, now?” He leaned back and looked into her eyes with those sincere amber-brown eyes of his.

  Inside her, every ounce of her being wanted to scream, No! I’m not okay. I haven’t a clue what the F is going on, but I want to be with you and not leave. Instead, she took the high road and managed a few words, “Sure. Fine. Just need a sip of coffee or tea. Your project’s done?”

  “Will be. I know we need to check out soon, so I’m rushing to get this phase done. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.” The computer bleeped at him. “Excuse me.” He looked excited, sat down, and put his headphones back on. She let him work.

  She had texts and messages waiting on her phone but ignored them after seeing most were from Davis. Dressed in her overly worn jeans, she looked for something warm to wear on top. While she had a few things from her car, she just didn’t have the right clothing. She found his sweater on top of his luggage and pulled out the last of his socks.

  She motioned to Michael, “Can I wear this again?”

  He nodded and returned to his web cam meeting. She had little to gather and did so quickly. Since he had told her the wine was her gift, the
sentimental part of her told her to take the bottle. Screwing the cap on tightly, she shoved it in her bag. She looked about the room. The exquisite room. Their room.

  With an inhale and steady exhale, she stuffed away dreamy thoughts of the last two nights. Reality hit as harshly as the glaring sunshine.

  She interrupted him again. “You said we have to check out. Going to get breakfast first. Okay?”

  “Sure,” he answered quickly with that business smile and turned back to the computer.

  “Leaving now. Bye, then.”

  All she got was a wave.

  Momentarily, she was dumbfounded. Was he really shooing her away? It would have crushed her if she dared let it. She couldn’t. She was raised to be a strong, bright woman. She had a soft exterior and an inviting drawl, but she could be hard as nails if need be. She left Davis and Atlanta. She could handle this. Or so she told herself as she pulled closed the door to her namesake, Amelia’s room.

  She scoffed as she walked down the stairs, “Meant to be all right. Meant to be a rebound.”

  Chapter Twelve

  There was a knock on the bedroom door some minutes after Paige had left for breakfast. Michael opened the door, “Did you forget and lock the door, Flee? Oh, hello, Mr. Hager.” His shoulders slumped.

  The proprietor stood before him and laughed. “I know I’m no hot twenty-something, but you don’t have to look so glum. Hate to trouble you, but we do need the room.”

  Michael ushered him in, barely looked at the bill he was given, and began stacking his orderly work. “Oh, sure. Lost track of time. Had an urgent business issue while Paige had some breakfast. Just wrapped up. Any chance for a bite to eat maybe on the way?”

  “Paige asked Cookie to save you a sandwich before she left.”

  “She left? Wait, who left?” Michael stopped gathering his papers. He turned to Mr. Hager, “Paige left?”

  “Sure, left a bit ago. Sweet girl, that one. Sorry to see her go.”

  “What do you mean she left?” Michael’s heart lurched.

  Mr. Hager shrugged. “Well, she had coffee, ate something, hugged Cookie, and left. I even got a hug for giving her directions.”

  “When?” It suddenly felt difficult to breathe.

  “After she ate.”

  “I mean, what time did she go?” Panic gripped Michael.

  “Oh, fifteen-twenty minutes ago.”

  “I have to go.” He began randomly jamming what had been meticulous papers into his briefcase.

  “Yes. That’s what I have been saying. I need the room.” Mr. Hager watched as Michael began throwing his things together, dashing from one spot to another without accomplishing much. “Is something wrong? Did you lose something? Don’t tell me you expected her to pay part of the bill?”

  Michael gave him a look to say that wasn’t it at all. “I did lose something. My Paige, my Flee. She fled.”

  “Your who? What?”

  “She left me. She panicked on us and left me. I want her back.”

  “Oh. Well, hurry man. Go get her.” Mr. Hager told Michael the directions he had given to Paige’s grandparent’s hometown while he helped put items in Michael’s suitcase and Michael loaded his computer.

  “You told her to go through that pass? Why? She doesn’t have snow tires or all-wheel drive.”

  “She should have said so. All she asked was for the shortest route.”

  “Southern remember?” Michael scolded and apologized in the same breath. Then he rushed part way down the stairs with his computer bag.

  “Forget something?” Mr. Hager called after him from the room doorway.

  Michael patted his pockets. “No. Don’t think so.”

  “How about your luggage?”

  “Oh, right. That. Thanks.” Michael rushed up the stairs, handed him the computer bag, and took the suitcase. He began to run down the stairs again.

  “Try again, Mr. Lukas.”

  Michael looked up. Mr. Hager brandished the computer bag and the bill. “Right.”

  He left his suitcase on the lower stairs and ran back up to the landing to take his computer bag from Mr. Hager. He turned with a nod of thanks.

  “And payment?” Mr. Hager said, stopping Michael in his tracks.

  Michael fumbled with the bill and dropped the pen. “Heck, is the credit card on file okay?”

  “Yes, sure, just go.”

  “Oh, and tip. Can you throw in my usual tip?”

  Cookie came around the corner and called up to him. She had already lugged his case the rest of the way. “He sure will.” Michael joined her at the bottom of the stairs. “Here’s your sandwich, Mr. Lukas, and a to-go coffee. Paige asked for extra milk in it. Might want to tell her you prefer just a splash of cream when you see her.”

  “If I see her. If she’ll see me.”

  Cookie’s eyebrows shot up. “Sure hope so. Wait a moment.” She pulled a scarf off the hook and put it on him. “I think you forgot one more, little thing.”

  “Right.” He hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Not what I meant. But thanks.” She pointed to his feet and the boots right next to him. He handed over the items for Cookie to hold and stuffed his feet into his boots.

  Mr. Hager couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Never saw you like this. You must have it bad.”

  “No. For once, I have it good and don’t want to lose it.”

  “Don’t go with that line. Not the best,” he advised.

  Michael didn’t have time to disagree. He grabbed all his possessions and flew to the door with a wave.

  Cookie called after him, “I hope you enjoyed your stay.”

  The last thing he heard was, “From the looks of it, Cookie, my dear, I think he really did.”

  ****

  Paige concentrated on the road as she left town. Though mostly cleared, ice patches riddled the roads. It was treacherous going. Her car fishtailed, making her reduce her speed. Visibility wasn’t the best with all her possessions stuffed to the brim. It also didn’t help that her phone pinged continually with incoming texts and messages. Davis’s latest strategy seemed to be to flood her phone until she finally picked up.

  She had reached to turn off her distracting cellphone, only to have it fall out of her hands and ricochet under the passenger seat behind the boxes. Annoyingly, her cell phone continued to ping, though far out of reach.

  “Fine.” With determination screwed in place, she turned on the radio to muffle the sound. The radio went to static. She had been smart enough to refill her tank. Why hadn’t she been smart enough to load any CD’s?

  As the elevation grew, so did the ice patches on the road. Her phone rang again and again.

  “That’s it!”

  She found a small place to pull over. Parking the car, she turned off the engine. The area she’d chosen had a deep drop off to the right and a rock wall to the on the other side of the road. She unbuckled, dove head first under the passenger seat, reached past wrappers, pushed aside a box, and fished the floorboard until she found her phone.

  Before she could sit back up, she unlocked her phone, clinging to the avalanche of her belongings. Grunting, she screamed to the caller, “I’m driving on a dangerous road. I’m not talking to you so stop calling. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

  Silence.

  “Are you sure?” came the voice, sounding crushed.

  Crushed but deep, and without a twang.

  Her brain took a moment to click into gear and register the voice. Not Davis.

  She gave a soft utterance, without any words. “Oh.”

  “Paige?”

  “Michael, is that you?”

  “Yes. Are you okay? I have been calling and texting you. I was trying to tell you there’s a much better road to your aunt’s. It’s a few miles longer but much safer without all-wheel drive.”

  “You called?” Feeling numb, she slumped where she lay across possessions, resting her face on the cold fabric of her little Hedgy. “
You have my number?”

  “And you have mine, I finally realized. From the shared photos at dinner.”

  She tried to take it all in. He called. He cared. A car pulled in to the same overlook. She stared at her phone. “You care.”

  “Oh, Paige, of course I care. I followed you. I want something back.”

  “Your sweater?”

  Michael’s laughter came over her cell. “Not even close.”

  “It’s warm though.” Paige let out a soft laugh. She had to laugh, or she might tear up. A tap to her foggy driver side window startled her, making her bolt upright and her possessions topple. The phone jostled from her fingers, and she dropped it again. “Dang.”

  She dove again and heard his laugh. Only it didn’t just come from the floor of the car. It came from her fogged driver’s side window. She pushed the button, lowering the window half way. Michael was standing there!

  “No, Flee, I followed you, because I want you back.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  Paige’s heart raced. He wanted her. Not a two-night stand. Her fingers flew to the door panel. She found the latch and nearly whacked him in the stomach as she opened her car door. He jumped to the side just in time.

  She threw herself out of the car and directly at Michael, there on the slim, paved rest-area, with cars and trucks zooming by. His arms, open, coat spattered, and cellphone still gripped in his hand as she pinned him to her car. He took but a second to pull her in tight. There was no kiss, just a crushing hug that lingered.

  He leaned back and looked into her eyes with a profound relief.

  An eighteen-wheeler drove by, blowing its loud horn. Two men yelled out the window, “Kiss her!”

  The words echoed off the cliff-face across the road. The last syllable trailed off as the truck went around the bend.

  They did as the mountainside seemed to instruct. Though it started as a sweet reunion kiss, desire spread between them almost instantly. His amber eyes flashed with a smoldering lust. Lips brushed lips, need tugged on need. Pausing only for half a breath, they kissed again, a deeper, longing kiss that sent tendrils of welcome heat through her body.

 

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