Just a Kiss (4 page)

R
iley maneuvered through the Roadhouse doors on his crutches. The local hangout was noisy for a Thursday night. Loud TVs broadcasted the Red Sox game, and the chatter of patrons rose above it all. It was only the spicy aroma of hot wings that drove him forward.

“Are you sure you don't want your wheelchair?” Paige let the door fall shut behind them.

“I'm sure.” He was sick and tired of looking up at everybody.

He scanned the restaurant for his brothers, finding them in their usual spot, a large corner booth. He headed that way, working the crutches carefully as his therapist had shown him. His missing leg threw him off balance. He'd almost taken two nasty falls while Paige was at work this week. Not that he was going to tell her that.

He greeted his brothers energetically as he approached, and they scooted over to make room.

“Why don't we get a table,” Paige said. “There's an open one right here.”

“What for?” Beau asked. “We always sit here.”

“I just thought”—her eyes darted off Riley—“it'd be, you know, easier.”

Warmth rode up Riley's neck. “It's all good.” He backed up to the seat, shifted his crutches to his good side, and lowered himself into the booth. The act took a good thirty seconds, and a sweat broke out on his forehead with the effort.

Remember when sitting wasn't an event?

Riley stowed his crutches beside him and picked up the menu. “I'm starving. Where are the girls?”

“Playing pool,” Beau said. “Or trying to.”

Riley spotted them in the far corner. Eden stood back while Lucy lined up a shot.

“Hey, now,” Zac said. “Lucy's gotten a lot better. We beat you last week, if you'll recall.”

“Dumb luck.”

Zac rolled his eyes.

Paige popped up. “I'm going to the ladies' room. Order me the buffalo chicken salad, will you?”

Riley watched her retreat for a moment before turning his attention to the menu.

“Since when does she use public bathrooms?” Beau said, frowning after her.

It irked Riley that his brother knew her so well, but Beau and Paige had dated for months, after all. Nothing like watching the love of his life fall for his older brother. He'd joined up because he couldn't have what he wanted most, but enlisting had only ensured he'd never get it. The irony wasn't lost on him.

“She's not using the restroom,” Riley said. “She's pretending to use the restroom while she clears a path for me just in case I need to go.” Just like she'd removed all the rugs from the main
level of her house, tucked away each stray cord, and moved every item he could possibly need to waist level.

“She's just trying to be helpful,” Zac said.

Riley's jaw tightened. He didn't want Paige's help or her pity. He didn't want the woman he loved looking after him as if he were an invalid. He wanted to be functional and independent. He wanted his flipping leg back.

“Hey,” Beau said. “You're doing great. Already getting around on those things like an old pro.”

Yeah. He was a real pro. A month ago, he could run five miles in full battle rattle; now he had to learn to walk again like a toddler.

He plastered a smile on his face. “All in good time, right?”

“You'll be back to lobstering before you know it,” Beau said.

Riley's eyes cut to his as he gave a mirthless laugh. “Yeah right.”

“Well, why not?” Zac said. “Amputees do all kinds of things these days. Look at that Olympic runner.”

Riley scowled at him. Even walking across the room on his own steam seemed like a fairy tale at this point. His future looked about as bright as a black hole.

So much for all the “plans You have for me,” huh, God? Prosper not harm? Hope and a future?

Right.

“What?” Beau said. “There's no reason you couldn't go back to fishing.”

What planet did his brother live on? “Yeah, with my luck I'd lose a hand in the rig. No thanks. I'd like to keep the rest of my limbs, thank you very much. I don't really have any to spare at this point.”

The girls returned to the table, exuberant, squishing into the other side, alleviating the growing tension.

“Where's Micah?” Zac asked. Eden almost always had her seven-year-old son in tow.

“My dad took him fishing. In other words, they'll throw their lines into the water for about fifteen minutes, then give up and go get ice cream.”

“Smart guys,” Lucy said. “Nothing better than a big ol' scoop of ice cream. Unless it's two.”

Zac nudged his wife's shoulder, giving her a fond look. “I remember a certain someone who put a scoop right in my lap. As I recall, the incident led to a rather sweet and lengthy first kiss.”

She smiled at him, her eyes going soft. “A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.”

Riley absently massaged his stump. Zac and Lucy's history was long and twisting. They'd been engaged until she ditched him a week before their wedding. Then she turned up with amnesia months later and didn't remember anything but being in love with Zac. Riley had missed all that while he was in the sandpit. But the two seemed to have come out of it on the other side somehow.

The newlyweds were still looking into each other's eyes like they were the only ones in the room.

Beau shifted. “All right, you two, get a room.”

Zac gave a cocky smile and made to stand. “If you insist.”

Lucy elbowed her husband, laughing. “Stop that now.”

Beau scowled at Eden. “How many days till our wedding?”

“Hang in there, babe,” Eden said. “Just two more months.”

Beau closed his eyes. “
Months
. Why are we waiting so long again?”

“So she has time to realize what a big mistake she's making,” Zac said.

Beau shot his brother a look as Paige returned, scooting in opposite Riley. She greeted the girls.

“Is it true what I heard about the shelter?” Lucy said, her tone full of dismay.

Riley's eyes fixed on Paige. They'd been alone together all week, and she hadn't even hinted at a problem. “What about the shelter?”

Paige gave a tight smile, her eyes flittering around the group. “We're experiencing some financial difficulties, that's all.”

“Charlotte said they were going to shut it down,” Lucy said, referring to the owner of Frumpy Joe's. “That the board decided yesterday.”

“Is that true?” Riley asked. But he already knew it was by the look on Paige's face. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“It's not so dire as that. They're giving me three months to turn things around. It'll be fine.”

“What are you going to do?” Eden asked.

“Find new sponsors, head up a fundraiser, and apply for grants.”

Riley frowned at her. “When are you going to find time for all that?”

“Evenings and weekends. I can get some of it done during slow times at work. Lauren will help with the grants—she's a whiz at paperwork. It'll all work out. You'll see.”

Riley's gaze narrowed on Paige. He saw all right. Saw the way her eyes tightened at the corners, the way her brows furrowed, the way her fingers fidgeted with her napkin.

“If you need help with the fundraiser, let me know,” Eden said. “I can add a page to the shelter's website and do anything else you need.”

“Count me in too,” Lucy said.

“Thanks, girls. I appreciate it.”

The server came over and took their orders. Riley's stomach twisted in hunger as another server passed with a steaming basket of atomic wings. It had been too long.

“How's PT going?” Beau asked as the girls settled into their own conversation.

“Good. Guy that's helping me reminds me of a drill instructor I had back in boot camp.”

“Sounds fun,” Zac said.

“Anything that gets me back on my feet.”
Foot.

“Let me know if you ever need a ride,” Beau said.

The conversation shifted to the Red Sox game. Riley fixed his eyes on the screen and pretended to listen.

He'd been down since this morning when he'd passed the harbor on his way to therapy. It hit him like a sucker punch. Seeing the lobstermen getting their boats ready, recognizing the markings on the buoys, remembering when he was one of them. Remembering his own colors out there, bobbing in the water. He should be out there right now, hauling traps, seeing how many legals he'd caught.

He felt a yawning ache to be out at sea, the briny wind in his face, working the way his father, and his father before him, had. Lobstering was in his blood.

But it was all over now. Beau and Zac had only made it worse, making it seem as if he could just stick on a prosthetic limb and jump back on a boat.

It was a dangerous trade even for an able-bodied man. He'd lost boots and gloves when they'd gotten tangled in the line. Most lobstermen did. Thankfully he'd never had a body part entangled,
had never been dragged overboard. But a prosthesis wouldn't allow for the dexterity needed to avoid that. Or if it did, it would take years to develop.

Something in the girls' conversation tweaked his ear, and he listened in, his eyes still on the TV.

“Isn't he the one who bought your picnic lunch at the auction last summer?” Lucy was saying.

“That's the guy,” Paige said. “We went out once after that, but he was just coming out of a long-term relationship and he told me he needed to take some time. Then about a month ago he asked me out again.”

His stomach twisted. Who was she talking about? And why hadn't she mentioned it to him?

“Friday'll be our fifth date.”

Fifth?
He turned a dark look on Zac, who was too busy watching the game to notice.
Thanks for the warning, buddy.

“So where are you going?” Lucy asked.

“I don't know. He's going to surprise me.”

“He has the dreamiest brown eyes,” Eden said.

“Like a puppy dog,” Lucy added. “Has he kissed you yet?”

Riley clenched the napkin in his lap, fighting the urge to cover his ears. He was glad when the Red Sox scored the tying run and the patrons erupted in applause, causing him to miss Paige's response. He didn't want to imagine some other guy's lips on hers. He'd had the privilege only once, and he remembered every detail. That was the only image he wanted in his brain.

“Those shoulders were made for crying on, sugar,” Lucy was saying. “He goes to our church, doesn't he?”

“Yeah, the early service though.”

Early service. Brown eyes. He was still drawing a blank.

“Strong faith, strong shoulders . . . what else could a girl want?” Lucy said.

Riley set his teeth, glaring at the TV screen.

“Doesn't his mom own the Mangy Moose?” Eden asked. “I was in there this spring looking for a trinket for Micah and chatted with her awhile.”

“Yeah, that's her.”

So they were talking about Dylan Moore. He was a lobsterman born and bred, just like Riley. Only he still had both legs. And dreamy brown eyes, apparently.

“You'll have to let us know how the date goes.”

The conversation shifted to Eden and Beau's upcoming wedding, and Riley's thoughts drifted away. It had been hard enough watching Paige's relationship with his brother get serious. Then they'd broken up on the eve of his departure, and he'd had to leave her for months on end, not knowing if he'd come home to find her involved with someone else. But in all of those scenarios there had been at least a sliver of hope for him.

Now he had to watch some moron take her out, wine and dine her, knowing there was no hope of a future for the two of them. Because even if her feelings did change—and that was about as likely as a midnight sunrise—he'd never saddle her with the man he'd become.

Somehow he was going to have to get used to the idea of her with someone else. Because if there was anyone who deserved the love of a good man, it was Paige.

R
iley's head was practically spinning just watching Paige dart around the house in her yoga pants and T-shirt. In the kitchen, back with a glass of water he didn't need, up the stairs.

She stopped in the middle of the staircase, frowning. “What was I doing? Oh yeah, my clothes! Oh my gosh, I'm losing it.” She dashed up the steps, calling over her shoulder, “You need a blanket? It's a little cool in here. I'll shut the windows. You can turn on the heat later if you need to.”

It was pointless to respond. She'd been like the Energizer Bunny since she'd gotten home from work. Her date was due to arrive in—he checked his watch—five minutes. His hands tightened on the sofa cushions. This really blew.

The floor creaked overhead with her hurried movements. A few minutes later she reappeared, those tanned legs making quick work of the stairs. She wore a pale blue shirt that matched her eyes and shorts that revealed too much skin. Her hair flowed straight over her shoulders like a waterfall of spun gold. She was stunning. Breathtaking.

His heart ticked too quickly as the words teased at his lips. But he seasoned them with a hefty dose of friendship. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. Did I tell you Zac brought over some wings? And there's pizza in the freezer, your favorite kind. Not to mention twelve varieties of casseroles from your fan club.”

“Got it.”

“I meant to put together a fresh fruit salad,” she called from the kitchen. “But I didn't have time.”

“I'll make it later.”

“The toilet keeps running when it's flushed. You know how to fix it when that happens?”

“Of course I do. I'm not an idiot.” He failed to keep the edginess from his tone.

She stopped on the kitchen threshold, a frown tucked between her brows. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She folded her arms and stared him down.

Fine, she wanted to get it out there, he'd get it out there. “You're fussing over me like a mother hen. I don't need a babysitter.”

“I'm not your babysitter, Callahan. I'm your friend.”

Yeah, she was his friend. And only his friend. He didn't need the reminder. Or maybe he did. Maybe that's what his mood was really about. This stupid date was stirring up a lot of crap.

He clamped his teeth to keep the verbal garbage inside. It was getting harder and harder.

Paige leaned against the doorframe and heaved a sigh. “I'm not doing anything for you that you wouldn't do for me. In fact, this is the first time I can remember that you've been on the receiving end. It's always been you taking care of me. You coddling me when
Casper got hit by a car, you fixing my furnace and changing my oil. Remember that night when I was seventeen and got stupid after my dad died? You were there for me. You took care of me.”

His steeled himself against the memory of the night. Against the helpless weight of her in his arms, the pliable brush of her lips. Oh yeah. He'd taken care of her all right.

“Well, I don't need you fussing over me. You're going to be gone a few hours—I think I can manage that long.” A disturbing thought occurred. Was she planning to be gone longer? He tried to shove the thought down, but it kept bubbling to the surface. He tried for a casual tone. “Unless you're going to make this an overnighter or something.”

Paige frowned at him from the doorway. “Of course not. What is up with you?”

He gawked at her. “Me? I'm not the one running around here like a chicken with its head cut off. You're nervous as heck. Dylan Moore got you all hot and bothered or something?”

She narrowed her eyes. “No, I'm not hot and bothered, and you're being a real jerk, you know that? Maybe you should just go back to avoiding me.”

Riley gave a wry laugh. “We live in the same house, Paige.”

“And yet you've barely spoken to me for twelve hours.”

The doorbell pealed as they stared each other down for a long beat, neither giving an inch.

When she finally moved toward the door, he suddenly wanted to wrap the quilted throw around her lower half. Instead he gathered his crutches. Dylan already had him by a couple inches. He wasn't going to make it even worse.

He pulled to his feet and turned toward the door in time to see Dylan's eyes sweep over Paige's body with a flicker of male
appreciation. He fought the urge to gouge out the man's dreamy brown eyes with the blunt end of his crutch.

“Wow,” Dylan said. “You look beautiful. Gorgeous.”

Paige's smile widened, her eyes lighting up like he'd just made her entire week. “Why, thank you.”

You should've been the one to say it, idiot.
He wanted to punch himself in the face.

Dylan finally tore his eyes away from Paige long enough to notice him. “Riley. Hey, dude. Heard you were back. Good to see you, man.”

Riley balanced on his crutches and shook Dylan's hand, making his grasp good and firm. “Good to be back.”

Dylan winced slightly as he pulled away.

“Let me go grab a sweater,” Paige said. “I'll be right back.”

She dashed up the stairs.

Dylan's eyes followed her until she disappeared. Then he turned a congenial smile on Riley. The guy didn't even see him as a threat. And why would he? Riley's mood took a turn for the worse.

“So . . . ,” Dylan said after a long, uncomfortable moment. “How's it going? You know, the therapy and everything?”

“Peachy. Where are you taking her tonight?”

Surprise flickered in Dylan's eyes, and his mouth worked a minute.

Okay, maybe he wasn't being very friendly. But he was digging deep just to keep from wrapping his hands around the guy's thick neck.

“Ah . . . thought we'd take the ferry over to Folly Shoals and hit the Seafood Shack. It's the perfect weather for a boat ride.”

“She gets motion sick.”

The sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “Oh. Well, I guess we'll stop for some Dramamine on the way.”

“And she's allergic to shellfish.” Didn't this guy know anything about her?

A tinge of pink moved into Dylan's face as his eyes narrowed. “Well . . . they have a varied menu. I'm sure she can handle herself.”

“I'm sure she can.” Riley continued to eye the man.
And you'd better treat her right, Sparky, or I'll be the one handling you.

Dylan shifted. His cheeks were mottled pink. “Listen, is there a problem here?”

Riley stood stock-still despite the growing ache in his stump. “Nope. No problem.”

“ 'Cause it seems like there's a problem.”

“Long as you treat her right, there's no problem at all.”

“Well,
Dad
, you don't have to worry about—”

“All right,” Paige called as she descended the steps. “I'm ready to go.”

Riley held eye contact with Dylan, drilling his message in deep.

When Paige neared the guys her eyes toggled back and forth between them. She gave a nervous laugh. “Everything okay here?”

Riley aimed one last look of warning at Dylan. “Wicked awesome.”

As Dylan ushered her toward the door, she tossed Riley a
What was that?
look.

He gave her a tight smile. “You kids have a good night, now.”

Paige shot him a look, which he pointedly ignored.

By the time the door shut, Riley's energy was spent, and his stump was a throbbing ache. He dropped onto the sofa, dreading the long evening that stretched ahead.

He turned on the TV to ESPN, but five minutes later his mind had wandered back to Paige. He wished he hadn't asked where they were going. Now he could envision every second of their date, right down to the drugstore run.

He remembered the look that had come over her face at Dylan's compliment.
He
wanted to be the one making her feel good, making her smile, making her eyes dance. He wanted to be the one holding her door and making sure the chef cooked her dinner with care.

Darkness flooded through him. He picked up the throw pillow and whipped it across the room. It landed against the wall with an unsatisfying soft
whump.

Get a grip, Callahan. You can't have her.

He punched his useless thigh.
Is this Your idea of entertainment, God? Watching a cripple lose the woman he loves to another man?

Again.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He just had to focus on his recovery. Work his butt off, get his prosthesis, work his butt off some more, and then he could leave here and let Paige get on with her life. As would he.

He had a new life awaiting him. A new job in Georgia, where his platoon buddy Noah was just waiting on word from him.

The thought left a hollow ache in his middle. If only this had never happened. If only his feelings for her had never changed. His mind wandered back to that day. How many times had he wished he could somehow go back and make things different?

It had begun the second Paige returned from summer camp their seventeenth year. Her mom always sent her away to various camps
during the summer. To enrich her life, she said. And Paige's dad went blithely along like he did with all her mother's decrees.

Paige had three back-to-back camps, one of them lasting a whole month, much to Riley's dismay. He'd spent his summer mowing grass at the Christmas tree farm and helping his dad plant new seedlings. Some days, when his chores were caught up, he went out with his dad on the lobster boat. It had been the only good thing about the whole summer.

Paige arrived home only a week before school started. When her mom finally let her leave the house, she arranged to meet up with Riley at the inlet pier where the Warrens moored their rowboat.

He showed up early, eager to see her. He knew she'd want to go gliding up the inlet while they caught each other up on their summers. And afterward, he hoped she was up for a game of basketball. His brothers had been too busy to give him the time of day, and he wanted to be conditioned for tryouts when basketball season rolled around. He liked playing with Paige, especially since he'd shot up four inches over the last year.

His legs hung over the end of the pier, his feet dangling a few inches from the water's smooth surface. The boat's hull bumped rhythmically against the piling, making a scraping sound, and a seagull sailed overhead, giving a lonely cry. The sun was just low enough to dapple the sky with gold by the time he heard her footsteps on the wooden pier.

“ 'Bout time you got here.” He turned, and the smirk on his lips shriveled up and died.

The sun sparkled off her summery blond hair, and her tanned skin glowed as if it had been kissed by the sun. The slim, straight lines of her body had given way to subtle curves, highlighted by
her snug T-shirt and shorts. Her legs . . . had they always stretched so long and shapely? And since when did she paint her toenails?

She tweaked a brow as she neared. “Cat got your tongue, Callahan?”

He blinked.
Snap out of it, man. This is Warren. Your best pal. Your buddy.

“Hey, Warren,” he said as he got to his feet. Unfortunately the view was just as nice from up there. She reminded him of the gorgeous blond chick from that
Sisterhood
movie she'd made him watch twice the summer before.

Her smile widened as she approached, and she threw her arms around him. “I missed you!”

Her breath tickled the hair over his ears, making his heart kick into overtime. He sure hoped she couldn't feel how hard it was pounding.

“You too.”

She even felt different—all soft against his chest. His mouth went dry. She smelled like sweet flowers—the really pretty kind. He fought the urge to bury his nose in her hair.

What the heck is wrong with you?
If she knew what he was thinking she'd slug him in the arm. Hard.

Paige pulled away, leaving him teetering somewhere between relief and disappointment.

Her face had matured as well, he saw, now that he was up close and personal. The gentle curves had given way to refined planes and intriguing slopes. She had a fresh sprinkling of freckles on her nose, and her lips seemed fuller.

Or maybe he'd just never noticed them before.

Those lips curved in a saucy grin. “You're staring.”

Heat crept into his face. He set his hand on the back of his
neck. “Well, you changed. You—you got taller.” And lots of other
-er
words he didn't even want to think, much less say.

She shrugged. “A couple inches.” She narrowed her eyes, studying his face hard, and it was everything he could do to stay still under her scrutiny.

“Are those whiskers? You trying to grow some facial hair, Callahan?”

He rubbed his stubbly jaw. “What do you mean, trying? This is a bona fide beard.” There. That sounded pretty normal.

She laughed. “I don't know if I'd go that far, but it's a valiant effort.” She stepped around him and climbed gracefully into the boat. “Let's go. I've been looking forward to this for weeks.”

Riley was distracted the whole evening. He tried to act normal, but inside he felt anything but. When she suggested they pass on the basketball, he was all in favor. He needed time alone to dissect—and eradicate—these weird thoughts.

But time didn't help. Something had shifted. He'd noticed the changes in her, and he couldn't
un
notice them. Over the coming days the observations somehow led to a shift in his feelings. Worse, Paige seemed just fine. He'd had enough interactions with girls that he'd notice if she was giving off vibes. But she treated him as she always had—as her best buddy, Callahan.

All that fall and leading into the winter, he wished for things to go back to normal. He begged God to make the new feelings disappear. But no matter how many times he beat himself up over it, they remained, stubborn and strong.