Just a Kiss

by Denise Hunter

  Paige’s heart squeezed.

  “Paige?”

  Her eyes darted back to Dylan. “Sorry. I, uh, I missed that.” She struggled to get her brain back into gear.

  “I was just talking about the shelter. Greg, one of my work buddies, came in this week to look at the dogs.”

  “Oh, Greg.” She straightened the salad fork she’d knocked askew. “Yes, he went home with a little terrier.”

  “His wife’s in love with her. Last I saw the pup, she had a big pink bow on her head.”

  “Oh my. Well, I’m glad they’re happy. She’s a sweetie. Somebody dumped her, we think. We found her over by the Crofton Street Bridge, just as skinny as can be.”

  “It’s hard to believe people do that.”

  “It’s awful.”

  Dylan started talking about his childhood dog, a mutt his family had found on vacation, and she tried to listen as her eyes drifted to Riley. He was at least thirty feet away on the opposite side of the room. And very engaged in his conversation.

  He looked so handsome, the candlelight shedding a golden light over his face. A white dress shirt stretched across the breadth of his shoulders, and a dark tie hung from his neck. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his lower arms. He nodded at something Roxy said. Smiled. The real kind. Not one of those strained things she’d been seeing so much of lately.

  She found herself strangely relieved he’d be leaving town soon.

  Nice, Paige. If you can’t have him, no one else can either?

  Maybe it was selfish, but yes. That was exactly how she felt.

  She curled her arms around herself. What was wrong with her? She should want Riley to be happy. He’d been through so much. No one deserved it more.

  But as Roxy reached across the table and touched his arm, she wanted to smack the woman’s hand away.

  A few minutes later the server delivered their appetizers, and they dug in. The mushroom caps, which looked so succulent, went down her throat like sawdust. She oohed and aahed over the food even while her stomach tightened in rebellion.

  She managed to hold up her end of the conversation through the remainder of dinner, but her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from glancing at Riley. Couldn’t seem to stop tormenting herself with the way they seemed so absorbed in each other. With the way Roxy touched him, the way he leaned toward her, the way he laughed so often.

  The server delivered their bill to the table with a flourish.

  Dylan tucked cash into the leather folder and pocketed his wallet. “We’re all set. Do you want to go say hi, or are you just going to pretend you didn’t see them?”

  Her eyes snapped back to Dylan. “What?”

  He gave her a look that made heat wash into her cheeks. She was getting pretty good at pretending. Or maybe she wasn’t, since Dylan had seen right through her.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ve been terrible company. And after you’ve gone to all this expense.”

  “Not at all.” He covered her clenched fist. “We could’ve gone somewhere else, you know.”

  “I didn’t know he’d be here.” Her love for Riley must be scrawled across her forehead. It was a wonder Riley hadn’t noticed. Or maybe he had. Maybe that’s why he was leaving town. Everyone she loved left. Why should he be any different?

  Her chest tightened at the thought. Suddenly her eyes ached, and sitting up straight seemed like too much work. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “You’re not an idiot. He is, if he finds Roxy Franke more appealing than you.”

  She gave him a thin smile. “You’re very sweet.” She didn’t feel like explaining their long history as BFFs or Riley’s history with Roxy. He couldn’t help it that his feelings for Paige hadn’t shifted any more than she could help that hers had.

  Her eyes drifted once more to Riley’s table, just in time to see Roxy glide her fingers down his forearm and tangle them with the hands Paige loved so much.

  Those were her hands. She’d seen them first. Her stomach clenched into a hard knot as heat suffused her face.

  She swallowed hard and pulled her eyes from the scene. “Can we just leave now?”

  Riley was reaching for his dessert fork when he saw her. Across the room, engaged in conversation with Dylan, looking like an angel in her white, shimmery top.

  He’d been struggling already. He didn’t want to be on this date with Roxy. He sure didn’t want her hands on him or her eyes flirting with him. But after she’d paid four hundred bucks for the night, he felt obligated to at least pretend to enjoy it.

  It was unsettling. And that was before he’d even seen Paige and Dylan across the room at the intimate table for two, looking totally absorbed in each other.

  He continued eating his dessert. He wouldn’t look over there again. Why fill his head with images that were only going to haunt him later?

  A minute later he pushed back his plate, realizing he’d wolfed down dessert in an effort to rush the evening along. Roxy was only half finished with her crème brûlée. She paused between bites to draw her fingertip down his forearm. Again.

  He managed to maintain eye contact with her, wondering why he couldn’t feel something for his date. She was pretty enough, with her big brown eyes and dimples. She could keep a conversation going and expressed a polite interest in everything pertaining to him. She was positive and kindhearted and hadn’t once mentioned his prosthesis. Her casseroles had been pretty tasty too.

  Why couldn’t her touch make his skin feel two sizes too small? Why did it have to be Paige? He yearned for her the way a castaway yearned for water. His spirit was dry and withering for want of her.

  Wow, Callahan. Melodramatic much?

  “Bite?” Roxy extended her spoon, filled with a quivering lump of the dessert.

  As he opened his mouth to decline, she slid it in.

  “Isn’t it yummy? Crème brûlée’s my favorite.”

  He let the bite slide down his throat, repelled by the pudding-like texture. “Delicious.”

  “We should go for a walk on the waterfront next.”

  “Whatever you’d like to do.” It was her night.

  But he was glad the ferry only ran till ten. He’d figured out early in the evening that she was after more than a single date. He’d made sure to work his move to Georgia into the conversation right away. He’d meant to ward her off, but she seemed to take it as some kind of challenge.

  But then, Roxy always had been eager to escape Summer Harbor. His moving probably only made him seem more appealing.

  “Another bite?” She extended the spoon.

  He backed away before she could hit her target. “No thanks. I’m stuffed.”

  “Everything was really good. You do know how to spoil a girl.”

  She began telling him about a restaurant she’d eaten at during her visit to New York, but Riley’s eyes were drawn again across the restaurant. Dylan’s hand was now resting on Paige’s.

  Riley’s jaw went tight even as the back of his neck prickled with heat.

  He forced his eyes away, resolving to be better disciplined. What was the point in torturing himself?

  He tried to tune in to Roxy’s lengthy story, but like a traitor, his mind went back to his kiss with Paige. To the feel of her supple lips on his, the softness of her delicate skin, the heady weight of her hand gliding up his arm.

  His eyes drifted back over to her and Dylan. Was she really able to just pretend the kiss had never happened? Apparently.

  “Awww . . . ,” Roxy whined, drawing his attention. She was staring over his shoulder out the window. “It’s raining.” She gave a little pout that was probably supposed to be cute. “There goes our walk on the waterfront.”

  Somehow Riley could only manage a deep sense of relief.

  Chapter 29

  He didn’t want to go home.

  Riley pulled up to the overlook at Shadow Bay and shut off the engine, leaving the radio on. He’d borrowed Beau’s old truck for the night. He had a fee
ling Roxy would’ve been glad to climb onboard his motorcycle, but given the way it was pouring now, the truck had been a wise decision.

  His brother had taken the opportunity to apologize for his cruel words on Sunday. Riley knew he hadn’t meant anything by it. He’d only been upset about Riley leaving again.

  The bay was pitch black tonight, not even the moon or stars to light the sky. The kind of night he would’ve appreciated years ago when this was the local make-out spot. He’d even brought Roxy here a time or two and fogged up the windshields pretty good.

  She would’ve been game for something similar tonight, but he’d put plenty of space between them on her doorstep and politely refused her offer of a nightcap.

  He was going to have to move on at some point. But not tonight. Not with Roxy. Not when his heart still belonged to Paige.

  He turned the station until he found the Red Sox game, jacking it up so he could hear it over the rain pummeling the roof. It was in extra innings. He listened for a while, trying to give a flying fig, but really he just wanted the minutes to tick away so the night would be over.

  He tried not to think about what Paige might be doing right now. Tried not to think about her inviting Dylan into the house, or about his lips on hers, or the current location of his hands.

  He checked the time and snapped the radio off. Eleven thirty was late enough, wasn’t it? The last ferry was at ten, and the Roadhouse was the only place open this late. If she wasn’t home when he got there, he’d just tell himself they were at the restaurant.

  Yeah.

  He reached for the key and turned it. The engine tried to turn over, a weak effort. He shut it off and gave it another try. Nothing. Worse than nothing. A third time produced a familiar ticking sound, indicating a dead battery.

  Great. Just great. He’d only listened to the radio for half an hour. The battery must’ve been weak.

  He dialed Beau, waiting through five rings before his voicemail kicked on. He and Eden were probably in bed. Of course they were. Rather than leave a message his brother wouldn’t get till morning, Riley hung up. This was the way his night had gone. The way his life was going.

  Can’t one little thing go right, God? Just one thing.

  At least Zac would be awake. He dialed the number. When he got voicemail he phoned the Roadhouse’s main line.

  “Roadhouse. How can I help you?”

  He recognized his sister-in-law’s drawl. “Hey, Lucy, it’s Riley. Is Zac around?”

  “Um, he’s kinda putting out a fire at the moment. And I mean that in a metaphorical way, thank the Lord. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Could you ask him to call me back when he gets a chance? No, scratch that. Just have him pick me up at Shadow Bay Ridge when he’s got a minute. Beau’s truck died.”

  “Shadow Bay Ridge . . . the overlook?”

  “Yeah, he’ll know where.” Zac had spent an evening or two up here himself—not that Riley was telling Lucy that.

  “Okay, will do. He shouldn’t be long.”

  “All right. Thanks.”

  “Wait! Is Roxy still with you?”

  “No, I already took her home.”

  Riley ended the call and leaned back against the headrest. Guess he was going to be getting home plenty late after all.

  Paige let her rain-splattered pants fall to the floor and slipped into her yoga pants and T-shirt. It was after eleven thirty, and Riley still wasn’t home. Why would he be? He was a normal man, and he had a beautiful, super-eager date. She wasn’t going to try to convince herself they were sitting at Roxy’s kitchen table playing Scrabble.

  Her heart gave a painful squeeze. Or maybe she would. A little denial never hurt anyone.

  Unable to bear seeing her best pair of pants on the floor, she put them on a hanger and smoothed out the wrinkles. She was just hanging them in the closet when her phone buzzed. She checked the screen, wondering why Lucy was calling so late.

  “Hey, girl. What’s up?”

  “How was your date?”

  “Terrific. I had a front row seat to Riley’s date, in fact.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. We were both at the Sea Room. But he didn’t see me, so you don’t know that.”

  “Aw, honey. I’m awful sorry. But hey, listen. You need to go pick him up at Shadow Bay Ridge. The truck won’t start.”

  “What? Shadow Bay Ridge . . .” Her lips clamped down. Seriously? He was still taking women to make-out point? What was he, fifteen?

  “He needs a ride.”

  “Oh no. I’m not crashing his date. Are you kidding me?”

  “He already took Roxy home. He’s alone.”

  Even so. “I’m already in my pajamas, and frankly, this whole night has just left me mentally exhausted. Have Zac pick him up.”

  “Um, Zac’s busy with something. And I’m super busy too. Swamped. In the weeds.”

  Paige smirked. Sure she was. “There can’t be that many people there. It’s going on midnight.”

  “Did you say something, sugar? I’m afraid you’re breaking up.”

  “Lucy . . . don’t do this to me.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t hear a thing you’re saying. So he’s waiting . . . out at Shadow Bay. You should be getting along now.” The phone went dead.

  She pulled her phone away from her ear and glared at it. “Really?”

  Paige punched her phone off. Nice. It was pouring down rain. What was he even doing out there all alone anyway? Giving a hard sigh, she slid on her shoes and grabbed her keys. It looked like her difficult evening wasn’t quite over yet.

  Chapter 30

  Riley tried to take a little nap. Who knew how long it would be before Zac got freed up. Besides, sleep beat the heck out of dwelling on Paige and where she might be right now. What she might be doing.

  He beat his head against the headrest. Once. Twice. The image of her at the Sea Room wouldn’t dislodge. Of Dylan’s hand on hers. Of the two of them leaning toward each other.

  The rain grew louder, beating the truck for all it was worth. Lightning flashed over the bay, followed by a rumble of thunder. He closed his eyes again and resolutely kicked Dylan out of his head, replacing the image of them at the table with one of him and Paige. Out on the community center deck, a sultry country tune playing in the background. Her eyes, lost and lonely, searching his like he was her last hope.

  Her small hand sliding up his arm as he kissed her, the sensation of her response. Yes, her response. She’d kissed him back. He couldn’t let that little detail get lost in the mire of disillusionment. Maybe she’d been lonely. Maybe her desperation made her a little vulnerable, but she’d responded to him.

  The thought warmed him from the inside out. Made his skin tingle with awareness. Maybe it was hopeless, maybe he was only tormenting himself. But it was his memory. The only one he had, and he was going to cling to it as if it were a life preserver.

  A pounding on the window made him jump. He hadn’t even heard Zac pull up.

  Riley flung open his door. But it wasn’t Zac standing in the pouring rain. It was Paige.

  “What are you doing here?” He pulled her in out of the rain, grabbing the door and pulling it shut as he scrambled toward the passenger seat. His leg failed to cooperate, and he landed on his elbow.

  Paige fell against him, breathing hard, her wet hair dripping onto his chest and shoulder. “Lucy called.”

  “She was supposed to send Zac.”

  His upper body had made the journey to the passenger seat, his lower body, not so much. He grew aware of the way she was pressed up against the length of his side. Her slight weight, the delicious warmth of her.

  Her sweet, flowery smell wove around him like a spell.

  As if becoming aware of their intimate position, she stilled.

  The rain drummed steadily on the roof, and a crash of thunder sounded nearby. He cursed the darkness, which left her thoughts a mystery. What he’d give to read those blue eyes right now. See
if a frown puckered her brow or if her chin dimpled in thought.

  “Well . . .” Her voice was soft and thready. “It’s me.”

  She didn’t seem in a big hurry to put space between them. Right then a shiver passed through her. The coolness?

  He tried to tell himself it meant nothing. But he’d wanted her for so long, and here she was, like a Christmas morning wish. So close. So warm. So real. Her lips were mere inches from his. Their warm breaths fogged together, and he got lost in the want swirling inside of him.

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “It’s you.” Always you.

  He leaned in until their lips touched. The briefest of kisses. A test. His heart sang when she responded. It kicked against his ribs, urging him on. He went back for another taste. Her lips were so soft. Pliant. Delicious. He palmed her face, still damp from the rain, and deepened the kiss.

  Her hand slid to the back of his neck, cool against the heat pooling there. Her fingers brushed through the hair at his nape, awakening every cell. She turned into him, resting her weight more firmly against his side.

  The feel of her against him kindled a fire inside. A feeling that sent a pleasant jolt of electricity to his brain.

  She’s kissing you. She wants you.

  Was he really going to do this? What about all his noble reasons? What about her deserving someone better? Someone whole? Even now, his leg was trapped under her. Useless.

  He was useless.

  But the arguments seemed futile in the wake of her ready response. He was heady with it. The pull of want was like a riptide, towing, tugging at him, until he was helpless against it.

  He got lost in her for a long, blissful minute. The rest of the world faded to black. Just the two of them in this cozy, perfect moment.

  But this was Paige, his mind argued. What was he doing, rushing headlong into this like a fool? He couldn’t do that. Not with Paige. There was too much at stake. Years of friendship. And then there was Dylan. She was with him only a while ago, looking pretty caught up. Maybe kissing him.

  He had to think. He had to—

  “Wait . . . ,” he said against her lips. One more brush. And one more to go, just a little more . . .