A Fresh Start (15 page)

“I thought you wanted to buy your sheets and all. You didn’t get anything?” he asked, meeting her halfway. “You look different.”

“I got my hair done. Just trimmed it, nothing much. And all the stuff is in my car. I’ll unpack them tomorrow.”

“I’ll do it.” He stretched out his hand, palm facing up.

She couldn’t let him do it. She was exhausted, but she was sure building a deck was more tiring than her shopping trip. “It’s all right, I got it.”

She turned around, but she felt Justin’s hand on her waist, spinning her back.

He took the car’s key from her hand and ran his hand through her hair. “Why don’t you head around the house and open the back door for me.”

“Justin—”

“Then, if you want, you can come back around and help me with the bags.”

“Okay,” she said, but didn’t step out of his arms. She wanted to drape her arms across over his neck and snuggle against his chest.
 

“Too tired to move?”

She wanted to close her eyes and take a nap on the spot. Shaking her head, she stepped away from him. “No.” She moved on to the back of her house, reaching into her bag for the keys.

“Why are you so tired? You didn’t buy much.”

“Shopped around for Jane.” She was about to go back to the car when she saw Justin with all the bags in his hand.

“Where do you want them?”

“On the dining table. I’ll deal with them later.”

She pulled out a chair only to push it in again. She didn’t think she could stand up if she allowed herself to sit. It was almost dinner time and they should head over to Seymours. “Why didn’t you wait in the Seymours’ house?”

“I figured you might need help with the bags.”

“Will you do me a favor?”

“You already owe me 10 dinners.”

She grinned and nudged him lightly with her elbow. “Come with me to church this Sunday.”

“Why? You have a premonition that I’ll need to tie someone to the flag pole?”

She laughed softly. “Maybe.”

“You’re not going to explain?”
 

“Can I explain tomorrow?”

“Are you sure you want to cook tomorrow? You seem exhausted.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Justin took her hand, hooked it over his arm and onto his elbow. “We’ll eat out tomorrow. Or I can cook.”

For someone who kept calling her frozen meals ‘junk’, she was sure he could cook. “I’d like to try your cooking, but I said I’d do it, so I will. Don’t worry. I’ll let you know if I’m too tired.”

“Good morning,” Justin said as Paige strolled toward him, her eyes focused on her phone.

She looked up momentarily. “Morning.”

“What are you looking at?” He walked alongside her and took a peek at the phone in her hand.

“I’m double checking if I missed any ingredients.”

“Have you unpacked your stuff?”

“Some. I’m washing the curtains and the sheets.”

“Are you sure you want to cook today? We can postpone it.”

“No, I’m not that tired anymore.” She slipped her phone into her bag and looked up to smile at him. “Good morning,” she said sweetly. “Sorry, was a little preoccupied.”

Justin took her hand and draped it over his elbow. “Do you still want me to go to church with you?”

“Yup. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I don’t mind going, but I want to know why. Did you run into some problems in Cheyenne yesterday?”

Her head tilted over toward him, her cheek touching his shoulder. “No,” she assured. “Nothing is wrong with me. It’s Jane.”
 

Justin pushed open the Seymours’ door and held it open for Paige.
 

They greeted the Seymours and Paige went on to explain the makeover and their encounter with Gloria and her group of friends.

She was sure the change in Jane’s look would bring about some talk and she wanted Jane to have some support from them. Since most of the people hadn’t quite dare to make stupid comments to Justin’s face, she thought it’d be good for Jane to have him around.

When Mrs. Seymour heard what Paige had done for Jane, she went on and on about how that was exactly what Jane needed.

Jane’s situation in school was similar to Paige, except for the lack of a protective brother.

Jane was the smart one in school, and the popular kids who hung out with Gloria Bradley always made fun of her. The entire gang of popular kids treated Jane like a slave, making her do things for them, but never included her in any of their outings or parties.

“I like her. I like her from the first day I met her,” Mrs. Seymour rattled on even as Paige took some of the dishes into the kitchen. Once Paige was inside, Mrs. Seymour turned and stared pointedly at him. “It’s been over a month, and I’ve helped set up opportunities for you. Why haven’t you asked her out?”

They fell silent as Paige came out.

Mrs. Seymour handed her another few plates and returned to stare at him when Paige went back into the kitchen.

“What made you think I haven’t?”

“So have you?”

He didn’t know if the dinners she owed him counted.
 

“Have you?”

“She’s cooking me dinner tonight.”

Mrs. Seymour rolled her eyes at him. When she saw Paige coming out from the kitchen, she casually said, “I heard you’re cooking tonight.”

“Yeah. You want to join us?”

“No.” Mrs. Seymour waved it off. “I’ve already bought what I want to cook tonight.”

“Oh, should we have informed you earlier? I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be silly, I can leave the extras until tomorrow. Have you bought all the groceries?”

“Not yet. I got caught up with yesterday’s shopping and forgot all about it. I’ll get it after I unpack my stuff.”

“Go with her,” Mrs. Seymour issued the command to Justin.

“Oh, it’s fine. I can do it on my own.”

“No boy I raise is going to let a lady carry all that stuff alone.”

“I was intending to do that anyway,” Justin pointed out.

 
Paige glanced between Mrs. Seymour and him. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course, dear. He’s just being grumpy as usual. Run along, I’ll clear up the rest of the stuff.”

They headed back to the house and Justin noticed the packaging of the sheets and curtains sitting beside the rest of the bags on the dining table.

“Can I pack up all this before going out?”

“Sure, need help?” He reached out for the largest bag and pulled out the contents within. “You’re not one of those tree huggers, are you?” he asked as he looked at the bottles of organic hand soap and dishwashing liquid.

Paige turned to look at the bottles in his hands. “I have sensitive skin. Most of them cause my hands to get itchy, and my skin would peel. I can’t stand those with synthetic fragrances either, it makes me sneeze. So I don’t really have much choice.”

“Perfume?” He was sure she used some sort of perfume.

“Yeah, I can’t stand that either. But I use this fantastic shower foam that’s made of mostly essential oils or something. Smells great.”

It did smell great on her.

He placed everything according to her instructions while she took the sheets out from the washing machine and transferred them to the dryer. Then, she returned to the kitchen, washed all the new plates and utensils, wiped them dry, and arranged them neatly in the various cabinets.

While doing so, he noticed Paige making all the micro-adjustments to the arrangements. Her hands patted against the stack of plates on opposite sides as she tried to get them into a straight line. And even though her cabinets were still relatively empty, she fussed around with the position of the items. She kept shifting them, seemingly trying to get them into a perfect spot.

He tried very hard to stop his lips from betraying his amusement, but his grin simply grew wider with each quirk he noticed.

Initially, she was so focused on getting the arrangements right that she didn’t notice his reaction. Then, she abruptly stopped the micro-arrangement of her forks and her head snapped over to him.
 

She chewed on her lower lips and closed the drawer. “Sorry. I know I’m taking forever.”

“I’m not in a rush. It’s entertaining to watch you pack.”

She pursed her lips and took out the pot from the box. “I know I’m fussy.”

“It’s your kitchen. You can do whatever you want.”

Her lips morphed into a grin. “You’re not going to make fun of me?”

“I think it’s cute.” He took the pot from her, washed it, dried every single part of it like she did, then handed it back to her.

Her grin grew wider as she placed the pot onto another shelf in the cabinet.
 

“You don’t have a strainer,” Justin commented as he pulled the last of the stuff from the plastic bags. “Or a salad bowl.”

She groaned, tipping her head back. “I forgot. Actually, I didn’t even think about it.”

“You can cook at my place.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why not? I’m over here all the time, but you haven’t even seen my house. And I bet you’re equally neat and clean when it comes to cooking.” He leaned against the counter that he’d purposely made higher for Paige. “It’s a good thing,” he added when she licked her lower lip, then winked at her.

When they were done unpacking, they headed out for lunch and grocery shopping. On the way out, Paige stretched over to the dining table for her cell phone, then for her bag.

Justin grabbed her gently on her arm. “I have my wallet with me. Let’s go.” He opened her door and led her out.

“But it’s supposed to be my treat,” she said. “You’re already helping me with the furniture, I can’t let you pay for dinner, too.”

He took the keys from her and locked the door. “The furniture didn’t cost me anything.”

“Your time and effort?”

He closed the door and waited for her to lock up. “Do you mind if I settle some of my work while you cook?”

“Of course not. Didn’t you say you have to go over to Cheyenne to look at some of the houses?”

“Probably next week. You want to come along?”

“Whatever for? I don’t know anything about flipping houses.”

“For fun? To have someone to accompany me on the way there? To pretend that you’re my wife so that they don’t know I’m buying the house to flip it?”

Her eyes widened with a spark of interest. “You do that? Sound logical, though.” She thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, why not?”

When they got to the grocer, Justin sat in the car and stared out at it.

Since he got to town, he had only gone to Travis’s, Paige’s, and the Seymours’ house. Besides that dinner they had at the pizza place, he hadn’t been out in town much. Whatever he needed was bought in Cheyenne.

“You all right?” Paige asked as she saw him scanning the place.

“Yeah.”

Her brows flickered closer for a moment as she watched him. “What wrong?” she asked softly.

He clenched his jaws.
There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

“Do you want to leave?”

He shook his head. “Where do we start?” His hand moved toward the door handle.

“Justin.” Her hand wrapped around his arm, and she studied his face. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to change her mind at the last moment. Instead, she gave him a thin-lip smile and nodded, then reached out for the door handle.

He sighed and pulled her back gently.

Paige had risked her safety to tell him about her past, about her stalker. He took in a deep breath and was about to speak when she interjected, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

Justin brushed the stray hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “My mom slept with Mr. Bradley, triggering the all out attack that Mrs. Bradley launched against my mother and me.”

He found it strange that he could speak of it so casually and easily.

He’d always been ashamed of what his mom did and felt somewhat responsible. But he just didn’t feel that way with Paige.

“Wives started coming up to my mom, screaming and yelling at her for destroying their families. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I was old enough to understand that I should stay away from the grocer.”

He laughed at the sadness that invaded Paige’s face. Her frown formed a deep furrow between her brows as her head tilted slightly to the side.

She shook her head, deepening the line.

“Don’t be sad,” he whispered and cupped his hand against her cheek. “I love your smile.”

She looked down, rearranged her features, then tipped her chin back up with a small smile. “I can’t imagine what you went through.” She stretched her arm over his shoulder and hooked down on his neck, hugging him.
 

He wasn’t sure who she was comforting; she seemed more upset than he was. Running his hand down her back, Justin gave her a peck on her hair.
 

“It wasn’t your fault. None of it is your fault.”

“I know.”

Mrs. Seymour had told him time and again that all the ugliness had nothing to do with him; it was between Mrs. Bradley and his mom.

So, he tried to fix his mom. “I used to hide her alcohol whenever she wasn’t paying attention. It took her a while to realize it, then it became this hide and seek game that we’d play. She’d hide her alcohol while I’d try to find them and then hide it somewhere else or throw it away.”

“She didn’t get angry with you for doing that?”

Oh, she did.
His ability to take punches stemmed mainly from the training his mother had given him.

He pulled Paige closer, giving her another peck on her hair.

“Let’s go out for dinner, we don’t have to shop here.”

“No.” He lifted her from his chest and bent till their eyes met. “It wasn’t my fault, I don’t have to run. I’m getting a little tired of running.”

She broke into a wider grin. “You sure?”

“Let’s go in before people start wondering what we’re doing out here.” He stepped out of his car as Paige jogged over to his side, looping her arm around his.

“First thing on the list?”

“Spaghetti,” she said.
 

They strolled alongside, going down aisle after aisle, picking up whatever she needed. As expected, quite a few of store’s customers recognized him. Most merely stared at him while others gave him a small, polite smile.