“Why did you come here today? Why did you leave Chicago and the celebration so soon?”
“This is why.” She looked down at her body draped over his, then shook her head as though realizing she’d said the wrong thing. “Not to jump you. But to talk with you.” Her gaze lowered to his mouth again. “About our kiss in Chicago.” She looked into his eyes. “And about why you avoided me after.”
Suddenly, the air tightened around him, like a vacuum sucking all the breath out of him. He pulled her bra straps up, set them in place, then made himself lift her from his lap, setting her back on the couch.
“Kissing you…” It’s like being able to finally breathe again. But he couldn’t say that. It would only lead them deeper down the rabbit hole. “You’re a beautiful woman, Paige. With a huge heart. I couldn’t have done this today without you. Couldn’t have gotten through so many things without you.”
The hurt darkening her eyes made him cringe as he fumbled through. But he had to stop this thing growing between them. Now. Before he hurt her. He couldn’t trust his own feelings anymore, his decisions, his emotions. And he couldn’t let Paige pay the price for that.
“But we both know we can’t do this.”
He sounded like a broken record. But that was because there was nothing else to say.
“I don’t know it.” She was already buttoning up her shirt, her hands surprisingly steady when his felt like they were caught in a major aftershock. “But you’ve got your family to deal with right now. So I’ll keep helping you with them.” She stood, then added, “If you want me to.”
Her gorgeous curves were backlit by the late afternoon sun streaming in through his library windows. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. Her hair was tangled from his hands.
God, the things he wanted. Things that might destroy her—that could destroy them both—if he actually took them.
Yet he couldn’t stand the thought of pushing her away completely. “Yes, I still want that.” I still want you. “Your help. I really need your help, Paige.”
“All right, then.” She didn’t smile, but she met his gaze steadily. “Thank you for telling me about your father. I know it was hard, but I hope it helped you. And it explains so much if I’m to try to help you with your family.”
For nearly a decade, he hadn’t allowed himself to knowingly compare Paige to Whitney. But now he couldn’t stop the thought that she outshone her sister by miles. Whitney’s façade was indisputably gorgeous—but Paige was as beautiful inside as she was on the outside.
She walked away then.
Not only beautiful, but strong too.
* * *
Paige put a hand to her trembling lips as she drove.
She would have let him take her right there on the couch. She would have given him anything.
Everything.
She knew in every corner of her soul that what they’d just done wasn’t wrong. Their passion had quickly flared out of control, but it had been perfect and beautiful.
Only the timing was wrong. As bad as it could be.
He’d been through so much in the last month with Whitney. Even more today with the surprise appearance of his siblings and the mother who had deserted him. He needed to deal with his family, find a resolution in his own heart. He had to find a way to come to terms with his past, his father, his mother, the things those two people had done to him.
Yet none of that changed her feelings. She’d never known how to make love easy. Or simple. And she sure didn’t know how now.
All she knew was that with every kiss they shared—and with every part of his past that Evan revealed to her—she fell deeper. Harder.
And despite his insistence that what they were doing was wrong, those kisses—and the way he looked at her in those rare and precious moments when he dropped his guard—made her grow more hopeful that she might not be the only one falling.
Chapter Fifteen
Evan was strung out from four nights with hardly any sleep. He hadn’t been able to keep from playing those moments with Paige on the sofa over and over in his head. How good her skin had felt beneath his hands. How perfect her lips had been beneath his. How much he’d wanted to tear off every last stitch of her clothing and take her.
Slow.
Fast.
Gentle.
Rough.
Any way he could.
Every way he could.
No matter how hard he’d tried to blank out his mind and fall asleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Until he was sure he’d go stark raving mad with need and desire.
But now it was Tuesday morning, and Evan was in the backseat finishing up his phone call with a florist as Mortimer maneuvered through traffic heading up to San Francisco. He needed to let Paige know how much he appreciated her help on Sunday. He wanted to say thank you with more than a bouquet of flowers. She deserved so much more for her unending support. But the flowers would at least brighten her day and make her smile, until he could come up with something more substantial.
Something he could do for her that didn’t involve dragging her down into the muck of his life.
And now, regardless of how tired and distracted he was, it was time to make good on his promise to check in on Theresa. He pulled out the card on which she’d written her phone number. And was surprised by the twinge in his heart at seeing her familiar handwriting. Once upon a time, she used to write him funny notes to find in his lunchbox.
Shoving away the painful memories, he dialed. “Theresa, it’s Evan.”