The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) (11 page)

BOOK: The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two)
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He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “How about I tuck you into bed?”

Adrenaline streaked through her veins, and she stiffened. She opened her mouth to reply, and he leaned in and planted his lips on hers.
Crap!
Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed him away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get something going here.” He leaned in again. “You gotta know I’m attracted to you.”

“Stop.” Again, she pushed him back. “I don’t have those kinds of feelings for you.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever. You’re like a younger brother to me.”

“We’d be great together.” He took her hands in his and shot her an earnest look. “Give me a chance to change your mind.”

She shook her head and tugged her hands free. “I don’t want things to become uncomfortable between us, and they will if we don’t stop this now.”

“All I’m asking for is a chance to change your mind.” Ted’s gaze bored into her. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Ryan, does it? Tell me you’re not attracted to that basket case.”

“I don’t owe you any explanation other than the one I’ve already given. I care for you. You’re family. Let’s leave it at that.”

Shooting up from the couch, he gathered the DVDs and stared down at her, his expression wounded. “I’ll let it go for now, but I intend to change your mind.”

“Don’t.” She averted her gaze.
Damn
. This was exactly what she didn’t want. Maybe it would be best for everyone if she headed back to Philly sooner rather than later. “We’re family, and I hope we’re friends.” She glanced at him. “Let’s not mess that up.”

“Think about it, Paige. Don’t say no to something that could be amazing just because we’re shirttail relatives.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Give me a chance to change your mind. That’s all I’m asking.” He straightened. “Just a chance.”

He headed for the front door without looking back. Groaning in frustration, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Not good. His infatuation with her would cause tension at Langford & Lovejoy, and more tension was something none of them needed.

CHAPTER FIVE

R
YAN STARED AT HIS REFLECTION
in the bathroom mirror and scratched his fingers through his beard.
Like kissing my uncle’s sheepdog.
He grinned. No matter what, Paige couldn’t deny kissing him back. With tongue. He wanted another shot, one where she didn’t pull back so quickly. Eyeing the scissors and razor, and then the sink, he made up his mind and put the plug in the drain.

Excitement pulsed through him at the thought of spending the day with her. Thinking about it had helped him get through the night without J.W. Sure, he’d still had nightmares when he dozed off, but they were interspersed with erotic dreams of Paige naked, her limbs tangled with his, their mouths and bodies fused.

All the blood left his head and rushed to his groin.
Shit.
He’d better concentrate, or he’d slit his throat by accident.
Wouldn’t that be ironic?
Forcing his thoughts away from naked Paige, he reached for the scissors and trimmed his beard, tossing the hair into the trash bin. He lathered, shaved, rinsed off, and studied the results.

Ah, yes. There they were—the burn scars circling his throat like phantom fingers. How would Paige react when she saw them? Would she be repulsed? His eyes riveted on the physical
reminders of the hell he’d lived through, and the distant echo of that long-ago explosion reverberated through him. In an instant, he was flying through the desert heat with his uniform in flames. The smell of his own burning flesh came back to him in a rush—along with the crunch and snap of his bones shattering when he hit the ground. Remembered pain racked his body, and the cries and moans of his squad bounced around the inside of his skull. Jackson, with his face frozen in shock, stared at him through lifeless eyes.

Ryan braced himself and fought against the sensory assault dragging him back to that day. He gripped the edge of the porcelain sink and gulped air into his lungs.
Paige.
He had a date. Maybe even another chance at a kiss.
Focus
. He concentrated on new memories—the snooty way she’d looked down her nose at him that first night and the way she wrapped him up in her arms while they stood by the river. Latching on to those images, Ryan followed them like a trail of breadcrumbs leading the way out of hell. Sweat beaded his forehead, and he shook like he had the DTs.

Forcing himself to move, he placed one foot in front of the other until he was in the shower and turning on the water by rote. Hot water pounded over his head, and he closed his eyes, imagining Paige scolding him out of his flashback. His heartbeat gradually slowed, along with his breathing. The shakes washed down the drain with each exhale until he stood solid again.

A half-strangled laugh burst from him as he reached for the shampoo. What would Paige think if she knew her nagging ways had brought him out of flashback hell? Best to keep it to himself, or she might just get it into her head to boss him around 24/7.

Dried, shaved, and brushed, he stood in nothing but his boxers, contemplating his limited wardrobe. Might be time to do
some shopping. Online. No way did he want to subject himself to a crowded mall. Even thinking about mall throngs made him shudder. Shaking off that thought, he grabbed his best pair of jeans from the heap and dug through the pile of clean clothes for a decent shirt. Garments in hand, he headed to the closet for the small ironing board and iron.

He ought to straighten up the place a bit. He glanced at the kitchen clock. Tomorrow. He only had half an hour before heading up to the big house. Another thrill raced along his nerves as he ironed the button-down shirt.

Noah had made it pretty clear Ryan should leave his sister alone until he got his shit together. Yeah. Not going to happen. Even though he knew he was setting himself up for more pain, staying away was not an option. She was his polar opposite, the positive to his negative charge. How could he fight a force of nature like that?

He dressed and moved to the living room to sit down on the couch. Flipping his sketchbook open, he studied the portrait he’d done the night she’d plastered her sweet curves all over him. Should he give her the portrait? The likeness was spot-on. Beautiful mixed with a tablespoon of snooty. Yep. She should have it.

Ryan rolled the sketch into a cylinder, grabbed his Stetson, and headed out the door. He climbed the veranda steps and knocked. Paige swung open the door, took one look at him, and gasped.

He deflated. “What? Is it the scars?”

“Huh?” Her eyes roamed over his face, stopping on his mouth and then roaming again, only to come back to his mouth. “You have scars?”

Heat swept through him. Her pupils were dilated, and it wasn’t the burns she was looking at. “Yeah, here.” He put his
hand up to his bare neck. It felt odd to be without his camouflage. Naked. Oh, man. That set off a slew of other thoughts of nakedness.

Her gaze touched on the spot he indicated, then slid over his face again. “To tell the truth, I didn’t even notice.”

He cleared his throat. “I brought you something.” He handed her the sketch, and his eyes fixed on her face as she unrolled it. Another gasp escaped her. She studied the image and tipped her face up to his. He couldn’t help basking in the warmth he glimpsed there. “It’s from the night you burst into my apartment.”

“This is how you see me?” Her voice came out a little husky.

“It’s how I saw you that particular night. Do you like it?” He took his hat off so he’d have something to do with his hands.

“I love it. You made me look beautiful, Ryan. A tad…haughty, but in a good way.”

She did that throaty chuckle thing, and the sound skimmed over him like her skin on his. His mouth went dry. More than anything, he wanted that skin-on-skin feeling for real.

“Stay here for a second.” She grinned. “We have another resident artist whose work you have to see.”

She disappeared into the house, and he tried to tame his raging libido. He stepped over the threshold to wait. Sweet Pea ambled over to him for a scratch. “Hey, boy. Where is everybody?”

Paige came toward him, holding out a large piece of white construction paper. “They’re all upstairs having a family reunion. I swear, the way the kids are carrying on, you’d think Ceejay and Noah had been gone for a month.”

He took the picture and studied the stick figure. “Your work?” he teased.

“Ha, very funny. It’s Lucinda’s. She wants to bring you to school for show-and-tell, by the way.”

He laughed. “She’s going to be upset when she sees I’ve shaved.”

“True, but I’m not.” She reached out and ran her palm over his cheek. “I’ve been dying to see what you looked like under all that shag carpeting.”

Her touch sent his heart rate off the charts again.
Damn.
Could he survive a whole day with her? “Hope you’re not disappointed.”

“Not by a long shot.” Her voice came out smooth and thick, like red clover honey. She took the Johnny Appleseed artwork from him. “Let me put this back on the fridge, and we’ll go.”

Had he heard right? She liked the way he looked? He stood a little straighter and put his hat back on as she approached. She wore jeans, a snug pink T-shirt, and a denim jacket. Sexy. No matter what she wore, she made it all look sexy. She swept past him, and he caught a whiff of her scent, taking it deep into his lungs. Her keys in hand, she aimed for her car. He overtook her in a few strides. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he steered them toward his truck.

Paige dug in her heels. “I thought we’d take my car today.”

“Why is that?”

“Yours looks like a roadside breakdown waiting to happen.” She frowned. “That’s why.”

“My truck runs fine. I take good care of the engine. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But what?” He scowled. “You expect me to fold myself into that Matchbox toy you call a car?” He nodded toward her Mini.

“You’ll fit.”

“It’s all about appearances, right? My ol’ truck has a little rust and a few dents, so you don’t want to be caught dead in it.
Ain’t that right, Spoiled Little Rich Girl?” He folded his arms and glowered at her. How did she do it? One minute he was following her with his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging. The next he wanted to give her a good swat on her sweet backside to dislodge the broomstick she rode. “Stuck-up much?”

“Maybe.” She glared back with her fists on her hips. “Stubborn much?” She raised a single upper-class eyebrow at him.

He wanted to stomp and holler to get his way. Instead, he hauled her into his arms and planted his mouth on the stubborn straight line of hers. What started in frustration quickly transformed into pure-D lust. Tense at first, she caved and melted into him. Her lips opened under his, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss. Her palms skimmed over his jaw to his cheeks, coming up to knock the hat off his head so she could tangle her fingers into his hair.

He broke the contact and rasped, “We’re going in my truck.”

“Fine.” She tugged on his hair until his mouth came back to hers and kissed the smug right out of him.

“Whoa, darlin’.” The last thing he wanted to do was stop, but they were in Noah’s driveway, and if they didn’t slow down, he’d have her up against his pickup with her legs wrapped around his waist in no time. Better yet, he’d set her on the tailgate so he could stand between her thighs after he peeled those sexy jeans off, or…
Shit
. He held her at arm’s length and almost dragged her back in when he caught a glimpse of the heat simmering in those lovely green eyes.

He’d put that sexed-up expression on her face, and that did things to him, like rearrange all his major internal organs. Especially his heart. He leaned over to pick up his hat off the ground and tried to adjust the crotch of his jeans to ease the tightness. “Let’s get going while the going is good.”

“Don’t expect that tactic to work every time, cowboy.”

“Why not?” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and grinned, then groaned at the sight of Ted’s Mustang pulling up the drive. The kid parked his classic next to Ryan’s Chevy—his rusted-out, dented old Chevy.

“Hey.” Ted spared him a cursory nod and turned to Paige. “I stopped by to see if you’d be interested in going to New Harmony today. There’s a huge craft fair going on. Are you free?”

“No. She’s not
free
.” Ryan’s jaw clenched, and his gut twisted. “We already have plans, pup.”

Ted let out a huff of frustration and scowled. “You gotta be kidding me, Paige. You can’t be going out with—”

“That’s enough,” Paige snapped. “We had this conversation last night, and I believe I made myself clear.” She opened the door to the truck and climbed in.

“Yeah, and I made myself clear too. Like you said, we’re family.” Ted glared at Ryan and stuck out his chest. “No reason why we can’t hang out together.”

“Not gonna happen today,
Ted
.”
Or ever.
Ryan’s hands balled into fists, and adrenaline put him on battle-ready status. He sauntered closer, hoping the kid would get the message and back down.

BOOK: The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two)
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