“Hey,” she finally managed.
“Hey.”
“Jake!” Casey was at her side now, balancing on one leg against her. “We’re doing a spa.”
“I see that.” His eyes met hers, just as hot as they’d been last night and more than a little amused. “It looks…nice.”
Great. Paige smiled, or tried to, and felt the green mask covering her face crack around her mouth and eyes. His lips twitched, but he had the good grace to look away.
She stepped back to let him in and closed the door, fighting the lock again until he took over, applying some of his manly muscle.
“I brought those catalogs for Casey to look at. And dinner. It’s Italian.” He held up big brown bags in each hand.
Italian, as in the almost maybe date that didn’t happen? His expression was soft and a little unsure, and she felt a sudden urge to wrap her arms around him. She picked up Casey. “Thank you.”
“I…um…” He glanced down at the bags. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a lot of different things…but maybe you already ate.”
“Are you kidding? I’d eat again for Italian.”
She hadn’t wanted to be interested in him past anything more than friends. She’d been determined to make Casey her focus. But now he was here and out of all the various emotions churning inside her, the one that was front and center was happiness. Despite her surprise, even despite her green face and her resistance to men in general, she looked at Jake and felt happy.
“You should stay.”
“We’re having special time,” Casey said. “And we’re going to paint nails! You can do it too!”
Her gaze fell to his huge hands that she now pictured catching touchdown passes and sliding up her rib cage. “Um…not your thing, I’m sure.” Because he was definitely all man.
“I don’t know.” He grinned at Casey. “I’ve never been to a spa.”
“It’s great! And don’t worry,” Casey said, giving Paige a quick glance. “I’m not done yet.”
Jake gave her a slow, appreciative smile. “I wasn’t worried.”
One heated glance from the man and she felt a distinct tingle in her breasts as the girls switched to full high beam. Great. There might not be a lot up top, but she wasn’t lacking in the nipple department. Her cheeks felt hot and she crossed her arms awkwardly over her thin pajama top.
“We’re having macaroni and cheese with hot dogs,” Casey told him. “We have that every night.”
“Not every night,” Paige muttered under her breath. But too often. She moved to the stove to turn off the boiling water, setting Casey in a kitchen chair on her way.
“But what Mommy really likes is pizza and orange juice.” Casey made a disgusted face.
“Really?” Jake sent her a curious look. “Pizza and orange juice, huh?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Was he laughing? She tried to narrow her eyes at him. It was hard with her face cracking.
“You, ah…want to wash your face or—”
A green flake fell from her forehead and caught on her lip. Yeah, he was definitely laughing. “Yes.” She spun for the bathroom.
After washing her face and the bit Casey had managed to get in her hair, she took a second to study her reflection. Her face was scrubbed and a little pink.
She’d rather change into something better than old pajamas, especially with Jake looking his usual hot, put-together self. Since that would be even more embarrassing, she pulled her hair down from the ponytail, quickly donned a bra, and returned to the kitchen.
Casey sat on the kitchen table, going through each bag, while Jake set out plates and forks. He should have looked out of place in the tiny kitchen, with his wide shoulders and dominating presence, and he did. But at the same time, he didn’t.
“What’s in that bag?” Casey was pointing to a bigger bag, purple, not brown like the others.
“A late birthday present.”
“For me?” Casey’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t hesitate.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Paige said.
“I know I didn’t. I just thought she might like it.”
They watched silently as Casey pulled out a small gum-ball machine already filled with colorful balls.
“Thank you!” Casey reached up to hug him and squeezed until he faked a choking sound.
The man was like a thousand strings tugging on her heart. “Thank you. That was really sweet.”
“You’re welcome. They didn’t have sugar-free gum, I hope it’s okay. I remember what a big deal brushing teeth is, and…” He looked embarrassed. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.”
She laid her hand lightly on his upper arm. “It was a great idea. We’ll just have to brush extra good, right, Case?”
“Right.” Casey shook the machine and turned the knob until a red ball fell out.
“But after dinner.”
She poured milk for Casey and iced tea for them. By the time they’d unpacked all the bags, there was a feast laid out before them. Chicken parmesan, chicken marsala, plain spaghetti with red sauce on the side. Lasagna, bread sticks, salad, tiramisu.
“You can sit by me, Jake,” Casey offered.
“I would love to sit by you.” Jake caught the back of the chair she pushed out before it toppled over.
The small table was pushed up against a wall covered in Casey’s art. Crayon drawings and tape. Streams of marker-soaked toilet paper and tape. And a mass of plastic straws and tape.
“She’s artistic,” Paige said, smiling, noting his observation.
“I see that. I could use your decorating services at my house if you have the time.”
“Sure.” Casey beamed up at him like the sun. “I can make you something.”
Minutes later, Casey paused in her eating and let out a deep, dramatic sigh. “Isn’t this a beautiful evening we’re having?”
Paige laughed, choking on her tea, and Jake laughed at her choking. It was a beautiful evening.
Casey kept them on their toes and laughing with her tales of Leon and off-the-wall questions only she could come up with. She quizzed Jake relentlessly. Favorite animal, favorite color, favorite color of gum, did he like pancakes, and on and on it went. Jake answered every one.
Paige got up for refills and peeked into the last bag. She sucked in a long, deep breath at what was inside. “You brought me a cake.”
“Yes.”
She looked up, meeting his brown eyes focused on her. “An entire cake.”
“And you don’t even have to walk for it.”
She bit her lip and stared down at the cake, feeling like a snow globe that had been recently settled, just a few small flakes and sparkles left to drift into place, but was now shaken until nothing was clear anymore.
With extreme effort, she gathered herself and came over to collect their plates.
“I’ll help.” Jake pushed back in his chair.
“No, you cooked. Or brought it,” she added before he could protest.
She cleaned up, using the time to pull it together while she listened to Casey’s laughter, trading silly jokes with Jake and showing off her handstands and cartwheels. She finished and joined them on the floor where they’d pushed the coffee table aside to have more room.
In between acrobatic shows, Jake asked Casey to put on her prosthesis so he could check it again. He was just reaching for the catalogs he’d brought when she popped up, a gleam in her eye. “I’ll be back in a gypsy.”
Jake laughed out loud at the word gypsy, the sound washing over her. Such a great laugh. He didn’t seem nearly as serious as she’d thought when they first met. Maybe it was Casey, maybe she brought out a more playful side in him like he brought out a more confident side in her. If that was the case, she was glad.
Casey was indeed back in a gypsy with some recent pictures she’d drawn. She handed them to Jake and settled herself in his lap because evidently they needed explanation. “See? This is m
e and this is you and that’s the water.”
“Are we in the ocean?”
“No. It’s just water. I’ve never been to the ocean.”
“It’s on our to-do list,” Paige said when Jake glanced at her.
The picture showed two stick people. One big, one small. Both of them covered to the arms by scalloped blue lines, typical of Casey. She didn’t draw herself often, but when she did, she never drew her legs. She was in the water or in a castle or sticking out from behind a house or a cloud. Paige wasn’t sure if she should make something of it or not.
Jake studied her rendering. “Nice water.”
“And there can’t be sharks in the water,” she told him. “Or he might bite off our other leg.”
“Nah,” Jake said, shaking his head. “I don’t think he would get me. If a shark came by, I’d knock him out with my extra strong leg. And”—he knocked his knuckles on the titanium rod through his jeans—“if he bit this one, his teeth would fall out.”
Casey didn’t laugh as maybe Jake had intended, but she studied him like that was something she’d never considered. That her prosthesis was actually stronger than her flesh-and-bone leg.
Jake pulled the catalogs over and opened one of them showing various socket colors.
“Casey, Jake is going to make you a new prosthesis.”
“You are?” Casey looked up at him in amazement.
“Yes. And if you look in here, you can show me what you want it to look like.”
“I want it to look like yours.”
“Okay. We can do that.” They went through several pages, but Casey was more interested in Jake’s prosthesis than anything she saw in the catalog.
Paige thought Jake would excuse himself when they finished, but he didn’t and they spent the next thirty minutes painting nails. A somewhat awkward endeavor, beginning with Casey insisting he choose his color.
Watching Jake sit there and let her five-year-old with still-developing fine motor skills paint his nails and cuticles a bright fuchsia was the sweetest and hottest thing she’d ever witnessed. She looked at him now, sitting still on the couch, hands on his knees to let his nails dry as he’d been instructed.
It knocked her completely off balance, confusing everything she’d ever thought and believed about men and herself, her life and Casey’s life. What she wanted and what she needed.
She couldn’t think about it right this second. “Time for bed, Case.”
Casey gave a small protest, then brightened. “I want Jake to read the story.”
Chapter 13
Paige didn’t say no, but there was a question in her eyes. They both knew if he did story time, he’d be there after Casey went to bed. He definitely wanted that. “I can do that. I’ll have to make sure I don’t mess up my nails,” he said, holding up his purple-pink-tipped fingers.
“You won’t,” Casey said. “Just blow on them and I’ll call you in just one minute.”
Paige did the teeth brushing and changing, then Casey called for him. JT came to the open door and took in the bedroom Paige and Casey shared. It was neat, but tiny, and sparse. There was no clutter, no stuff.
He stepped into the small room and lowered himself to the edge of the bed. Casey laid flat on her back, blond wavy wisps spread out over her pillow.
“I have a book.” She held it up, almost taking his eye out with the corner. “Can you read it?”
“Let’s see. Pony Town. Yes. I think I can read this.” With one leg stretched out on the bed and his other foot on the floor, he leaned back against the wall by Casey’s head. Paige was just going around to the other side when the phone rang in the kitchen.
“Well, if you can’t, I don’t know what we’ll do. It’s too hard for me.”
It rang again.
“You can go, Mommy. We’ll let him try.”
Paige rose hesitantly. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
She stepped out and he opened to the first page. Six multicolored ponies stood on a rainbow above half a page of surprisingly small print.
Casey pointed. “You can be this pony and I’ll be that pony.”
“Okay.” He had no idea what that meant, but he started on page one.
Casey rolled to her side and reached for the purple bear he’d won for her at the fair. A bear that looked like he’d been through a wood chipper.
“Whoa, what happened to him?” His right leg was a balled mess of stuffing and Scotch tape.
“Bob lost his leg, but he’s not sad. He’s like us.” She tossed off the covers and stuck her legs up in the air. Definitely didn’t seem tired. She grabbed her left leg behind the knee and pulled it toward her chest. “Look how much I can stretch.”
“You’re very flexible.”
“I know. I wish it was my other leg that didn’t grow,” she said, raising her right leg next to her left and comparing. “Then we could be even more the same.”
Jake felt the sudden punch to his chest. Not “I wish I had two legs,” but she wanted to be more like him.
“I love horses,” she went on as if she hadn’t just grabbed his heart in her little fist and squeezed. “I saw a brown one. Have you ever seen a horse?”
“Yes. I—”
“Have you ridden one?” She flopped her legs down and spent another minute getting herself and her bear situated.
“Yes.” He’d ridden a few times as a kid. “My brother has lots of horses,” he said with a surprising need to impress a five-year-old.
“Real ones?”
“Yes. I’m pretty sure they’re all real.” He laughed, picturing Stephen with toy horses.
“Can I ride them?”
“Um…maybe.”
“Do you promise?”
He considered what promising a maybe meant.
“Do you?” She pressed for an answer.
“I promise I’ll—”
“Thank you! Let’s read something else.”
He was going to promise he’d try, but Casey took the book from his hand and grabbed a thin paperback from the nightstand. “I like this one. See? There’s a fairy and she lives there, but she can’t get out without a rainbow. But there’s not a prince in this book.”
“That’s okay. Fairies are nice.”
“Do you think fairy tales are real?”
He might not know much about kids, but he knew the answer to that one. “Of course.”
Casey sighed dramatically. “Mommy doesn’t.”
Oh. Okay then. Wrong answer.
“She says not everyone gets a prince and we don’t need a prince.”
No prince, huh? He started reading again, and every time he thought she might be getting settled, she’d pop up or turn over or ask a series of magical-fairy-related questions. So much that he figured he was failing at the read-until-she-fell-asleep thing.
“One book,” Paige yelled from the other room. “Don’t let her talk you into more.”
“Almost done,” he called back and winked at Casey. “I think it’s time for you to go to sleep before I get fired.”
“Fired from what?”
Good question. He read the first line of each page until he got to the end, then leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Sleep tight, sugar plum.”
—
JT made his way down the narrow hallway past the bathroom and almost tripped over himself at the view in front of him. Paige’s back was to him, her pajama-covered bottom pushed toward him as she leaned her elbows against the counter in front of her. Damn. He needed to leave without touching Paige because every time he did, they both ignited.
He hung back a step, giving her a second to finish her call, and took in the room. Nothing about the trailer was new, but it was clean and comfortable. Beige carpet with similar colored walls and couch. More of Casey’s drawings stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet.
Paige said goodbye and he stepped forward as she laid the black cordless phone in the charging cradle. “Hey.”
Paige spun to face him. “
Hey.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. My mom. I haven’t talked to her in a while.” A decidedly guilty expression crossed her face, which surprised him, given the little he knew, but it passed just as quickly. “Did she talk you into reading more than one?”
“Guilty.”
Paige smiled. “You don’t have to do everything she asks, you know.”
“Yeah. I kinda do.” Or he wanted to.
Her pretty smile grew wider before she ducked her gaze to pick at a small dot of green face mask on her shirt. The silence usually filled by Casey grew and so did the awareness that they were very much alone.
“That was a good idea,” she said, gesturing to one of his prosthetic catalogs she’d stacked on the counter. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And your shark observation went over well,” she said, smiling up at him.
He smiled back, enormously happy that he’d made her happy. More seconds passed.
“Sit,” she blurted, and gave him a light push on his chest toward the couch.
He stepped around the low wooden table and sank into the worn cushions.
“I’m going to do you a favor.”
Curious, he watched her reach into a cabinet. A favor? She stretched higher and her shirt rode up, revealing two inches of bare skin, right above her pajama bottoms. He swallowed hard when she turned and walked toward him.
“I thought I’d take this off first.”
“Uh…” He knew his eyes were too wide, and he was fighting hard to keep his mouth closed, but the memory of her nipples teasing against the thin cotton when he’d arrived made his mouth dry.
“Jake?”
Shit. He locked eyes with hers. Where had he been looking just now? Probably not at her face. “What?”
Looking amused, she held up a pack of cotton balls and a bottle of fingernail polish remover. “It’s a hot color, but the boys might make fun of you.”
Oh. Right. His nails. And he was imagining Paige peeling off her top, offering herself to him like a damn dessert. Good Lord. She had no idea what she did to him without even trying.
She knelt on the other side of the coffee table and wet a cotton ball. Her hair fell loosely around her face. “Give me your hands.” He held one out and she took it between her own. “You have nice hands,” she said without looking up.
Worth It All Page 11