The Daughter He Wanted (15 page)

He stirred once more and then wiped his palms against the legs of his sweatpants. Wondered if Paige was wearing another pair of ripped jeans or if she was in something more comfortable. Pushed that image away because thoughts of Paige and something more comfortable were making him incredibly
uncomfortable
below the equator.

His email pinged again as he sat at the desk. Paige’s reply held two images: one of her at her college graduation, dated six years before, and another dated on the first day of school this year. She wore a painter’s smock and her hair pulled into a high ponytail. The kids gathered around her all wore paint-stained T-shirts several sizes too big, but his focus was on her, in the middle of the mass of kids with a huge smile on her face. She wore a skirt that barely reached her knees and under the smock a fitted tee hugged her torso, outlining her breasts. Definitely not like any teacher he remembered from elementary school.

Not even like the TAs he’d had in college.

So, you see, I am old enough to be a teacher,
she captioned the photos
.
But I don’t wear old-lady support shoes.

Alex’s gaze skimmed the image again, looking for Paige’s feet. She wore strappy blue sandals and the heels made her legs look like they went on forever. His mouth went dry and he reached for the water bottle on the cross-stitched rooster coaster.

She might have the diploma and the classroom, but she was still like no teacher he’d ever had. He emailed back, telling her as much. A quick estimate based on the college picture put her age at twenty-nine, give or take. Not that much of a difference from his own thirty-two. For the first time in a long time he didn’t feel twice his actual age. Didn’t feel he had to exhaust himself at work to face the long hours waiting in this house.

Most of his memories here, the hard ones at least, were stored in the attic. Boxes filled with pictures or souvenirs he or Dee had picked up during vacations to Branson or the Texas coast. Still, not all the memories could be boxed. Deanna chose the backsplash with roosters painted on the tiles; she picked out the cookware and utensils. He’d picked the fifty-five-inch television and leather sofas in the family room beyond the kitchen. He still didn’t understand the functionality of the mountain of tiny throw pillows on the couch. They were uncomfortable at best and a pain in his ass to move out of the way at worst.

Still, sometime in the past three years, no, the past week, the house stopped seeming like a testament to his relationship with Dee and just his home. He pushed the teaspoon of guilt that tried to spill into his heart away. This was his home, and it wasn’t as lived-in or homey as Paige’s place, but it was comfortable. It was his life and if he found someone that brought in the light again, that had to be okay.

Didn’t it?

Are you flirting with me, Mr. Ryan?

Her return email jolted him out of his reverie.

Alex pushed away from the desk, telling himself it was time to stir the rice. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t even a ploy to keep her guessing about him.

He had promised himself he would just be Paige’s friend while they figured out the Kaylie situation. But being her friend was a moot point when he couldn’t even take a hike without thoughts of her distracting him into getting lost.

Okay, not lost, but off-trail to the point that it was simpler to hitch a ride back to the parking area with a local farmer than to try to walk back.

Convincing himself they could be friends had only been feasible before he’d spent time with her. Talked to her. Flirt-emailed with her for the past hour. Before he’d run her down with his shopping cart and spotted her hovering behind a video game at the pizza parlor with those big green eyes focused on him. Whatever she’d been thinking that night couldn’t have been platonic. Not with the kind of heat she’d thrown his way from the darkened corner.

This was uncharted territory for him. Dee had been his friend before their first date. None of the girls he’d dated before her had been serious, but all of them had been friendly with him before he asked them out. Alex couldn’t think of a single person he’d felt this attracted to without that person being his friend before his feelings changed. It wasn’t just because of Kaylie, either. Alex liked Paige, and he wanted to be a good dad to the kid but he wasn’t fooling himself into thinking that they could meld into a typical married-with-kids family overnight. Or, if they did become more than friends, that it wouldn’t blow up like so many marriages. Hell, he shouldn’t even be thinking about long-term commitment at this point.

But Alex couldn’t tell her any of that, not without making her think he was a complete lunatic, so he stirred the rice and then tossed a steak onto the broiling pan before sending her the picture of the old cabin that he’d taken that afternoon.

Beautiful! Where did you find it?

He described the area and, not wanting the connection with her to end, asked what they were doing the following afternoon.

I’m always amazed at the places I’ve never seen when I’ve lived here nearly my whole life. We’re having lunch tomorrow, my place, want to come?

Alex couldn’t stop the little jolt to his heart at her words. And he knew it wasn’t the date he wanted, but it was another step forward.

What should I bring?

Her reply seemed to take hours but Alex knew from the counting down of the kitchen timer it was less than a minute.

Just bring yourself, should be a nice afternoon.

Warmth spread through his body. A big step forward, and he didn’t know why the abrupt change in her tactics, but he also didn’t care. They still weren’t dating, but inviting him to her home, for a family dinner was a big deal. Tomorrow he would see her again. Spend more time with his daughter.

The computer pinged again.

I asked you a question earlier and you didn’t answer. Were you flirting with me?

His heart pounded in his chest and he admitted it was pounding more for Paige than from the thought of seeing Kaylie. He could say no; she probably wanted him to say no. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was pressuring her about going on a date. At the same time, he refused to lie about what he wanted. It went against the grain. He wasn’t perfect, but Alex prided himself on being open and honest with his friends.

The timer went off, giving him more time to debate his reply. Deny the flirtatious tone and keep things friendly? He removed the steak from the broiler, put it on a plate and then put the plate in the microwave to keep it from overcooling. Or he could roll the dice on the fact that she’d invited him to another Sunday lunch and admit to it. He took the pilaf off the burner and turned off all the stove switches.

Alex returned to his desk and wrote,
I believe I am
before hitting the send button.

With no ticking timer to keep track, he watched the clock on the wall move through the slowest three minutes of his life. This was it, then. He’d taken things too far, too soon. Finally, his email pinged. He didn’t even pretend not to triple-click the mouse so he could read her message.

See you tomorrow.

Tomorrow.
It was quickly becoming his favorite word.

* * *

B
Y NINE
S
UNDAY
morning Paige was a nervous wreck. She pulled a pair of capris from her closet and then shoved them back inside a moment later. It was lunch, for goodness sake, lunch. Casual. Her home turf. Why was this so hard?

Flu shots. Innoculations, right? Today Alison, Tuck and Kaylie would provide the buffer so she could keep her focus on not being attracted to Alex. For the fifteenth time she thanked her lucky stars that she edited that last email from the
I think I like that
response to his admissions of flirting to the more innocuous
See you tomorrow.
And once more blasted Reckless Paige for pushing him on the flirting subject at all.

Because he was anything but casual. Alex was soft caresses and stolen kisses and flirting via email. It was also dangerous and no matter how many things she distracted herself with she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Case in point, she hadn’t uninvited her mother to lunch today after Alex had accepted her invitation last night.

She needed more time to prepare the lie, anyway, Paige thought as she dialed the number. A last-minute cancellation was so much easier than a long, drawn-out conversation. Her mother answered on the second ring.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Paige, what a surprise.”

Nope, the surprise was coming in a few minutes. “So how was your morning?”

“How is any Sunday morning, dear? Quiet. We attended mass last night and this morning I’ve been watching the birds in the wildlife area across the way. Your father is watching one of his news shows.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” And blah. Like so many Sunday mornings from her childhood. “Mother, I was calling to tell you that we’re canceling lunch this week. Alison, uh, isn’t feeling great. I’m going to make her some chicken soup and take it over.” If there was one thing Paige had learned in her twenty-nine years it was that the more details the better where Dot was concerned.

“I hope you aren’t taking Kaylie over. You don’t want her getting whatever Alison has.”

“I’ll take care of it, Mother. I just wanted to call before you left.”

“That was very considerate.”

And wasn’t this the stiffest conversation they’d had in months? “We could have dinner later this week. If you’d like?”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s only one lunch. We will see you next week. But do tell Kaylie hello.”

Sure, because what every four-year-old wanted from their grandmother was a secondhand hello.

“Have you given any more thought to the gallery showing? The deadline is coming up at the end of the month.”

Paige lightly tapped her head against the wall. “No, Mother, I’ve been swamped with work and Kaylie’s swim lessons.”

“Paige, they will not keep asking if you keep declining.” Dot’s voice sharpened.

“I know, Mother.”

“This isn’t because of that man, is it? The one who came to the barbecue last Sunday with Alison’s new
friend
.” Her voice was flat, condemning.

“No, Mother, it has nothing to do with Alex. I have a job, you know. A daughter I’m raising on my own—”

“And whose fault is that?” her mother’s voice accused.

Paige ignored the interruption and continued on. “I have responsibilities that I can’t blow off for a week to come up with a painting for—” she cut off the words
for a friend who is doing you a favor
and instead said, “a gallery that might already have a full showing.”

Dot clucked over the phone. “You’re too talented to think like that. Just consider sending your plans to the gallery. I know you won’t regret it.”

“I’ll consider it, Mother. I’ll talk to you soon.” Paige hung up before Dot could really get going.

Her talent was hobby work, wasn’t that what the last gallery owner said before he realized Paige was around the corner from him? He backtracked fast enough, fawning over Dot Kenner’s daughter, but the damage was done. Dot called in a favor to get Paige’s work into the gallery. It had nothing to do with talent.

She blew out a breath to shake off the conversation. Dot was never going to change, and there was nothing Paige could do about it.

“Sweetpea, how about a bike ride before lunch?” She found Kaylie on the floor in her room playing with her dolls.

“Can I ride the big bike and not my old trike?”

Paige gave Kaylie a new two-wheeler with training wheels on her birthday. She still rode both, but preferred the big-girl bike. “Definitely. Grab your tennies.”

She readied Kaylie still thinking about the conversation with her mother. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Obsessing about her mother’s inability to accept Paige’s life choices might be a nice distraction from obsessing over the handsome father of her child.

* * *

“
A
ND SO
A
LEX
is sprawled on his belly over the side of the cliff when a fox comes out of its den, howls, and the cat jumps out of its fur, digs its claws into Alex’s arm and is off like a shot.” Tuck finished the story, cracking everyone up. Kaylie, eyes as round as quarters, took it all in.

“Did you save the kitty?” She turned to Alex.

“I’m not sure how much was me and how much was the cat’s fear of the fox, but it made it back to its family.” The he pointed to a thin white scar on his wrist. “But it left its mark.”

Kaylie traced her tiny finger over the crooked scar and Paige found her own fingers itching to follow the line over the bone in his wrist to the underside of his arm.

Had something similar happened to cause the scar at his mouth? she wondered. Had he been trying to rescue a bird or was there a freak storm and he’d been caught in it, forced to break into that old cabin from the picture he’d sent, and had a splinter from the door caught his lip?

Get a grip, Paige
. In her mind, he was now Indiana Jones wearing a superhero’s cape. It had taken until the moment his truck pulled into her drive to stop her annoyance at her mother and for her to give in to Alex’s brand of distraction. Watching him with Kaylie. Listening as he and Tuck traded friendly insults and then broke into peals of laughter.

Even now, as she watched them from the kitchen sink, father and daughter were talking about nothing important. Her heart clutched at the sight. She might be completely overreacting to the man but Kaylie was taking him in stride. Asking questions about his work and then telling him about her school. Most of the things she knew about him were because of Kaylie’s questions. She knew he preferred peanut butter and jelly to bologna, that he preferred blue Powerade and that his eyes crinkled when he laughed. He was fanatical about swimming.