The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) (21 page)

“See you tomorrow, Ted,” Ryan called.

Ted nodded. “The sign looks great, by the way, and welcome aboard, Paige.”

“Thanks.” She waved and climbed into the truck. As soon as they were on the two-lane, she said, “I made a counteroffer to Noah.”

“Oh?” Ryan’s brow creased. “What was that?”

“It’s temporary.”

He glanced at her. “What’s temporary?”

“My job with L&L. I’ll stay until I can get my career back on track; then I’ll help with finding my replacement. I’ll always be available as a consultant.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and his jaw clenched.

“You know what my motivation is and what I hope to accomplish,” she reminded him. “Nothing has changed.”

“And you know there’s no guarantee your father will hand the plumbing empire over to you one way or the other,” Ryan snapped. “You could end up spinning your wheels in that direction your entire life—without ever gaining any ground.”

“I thought you weren’t going to be the worm in my apple,” she snapped back.

“I thought you had more common sense.” He shot her an incredulous look. “Do you enjoy beating your head against that brick wall, or are you just so hardheaded it has no effect?”

She averted her face. “Ouch.”

“Paige,” he gritted out, “why do you want to set yourself up for the same misery over and over? Let it go.”

“Listen to you.” She glared. “Have
you
let go?”

“We aren’t talking about me.” His eyes flashed with hurt, and he shook his head slowly. “I’m not the healthy one here, and I’ll be the first to admit it.”

Guilt sent heat rushing to her face. “I’m sorry. I’m being defensive, and you didn’t deserve that.”

“No apology necessary. It’s your life. You have the right to screw it up however you see fit.”

“How very sideways of you,” she cracked. “Wherever I end up, it doesn’t mean we can’t continue our friendship.”

His grip on the steering wheel went white-knuckle. “Is that what this is?”

She nodded, unable to form words around the constriction in her throat. She’d hurt him, and that sent a sharp pain through her as well. They turned into her brother’s driveway, just as the weather siren went off. “Great.”

Ryan parked the truck, and they hurried out. Ceejay stood on the side of the porch with Toby in her arms, shouting at her daughter, “Lucinda, come inside right now!”

Paige followed the direction of Ceejay’s stare. Lucinda was near the walnut copse, with her back to her mother. “What’s she doing?”

“She’s looking for our stupid dog. Sweet Pea hates the siren and storms. He’s hiding.” Ceejay called her daughter again.

“We’ll get Lucinda and Sweet Pea.” Ryan started toward the trees, just as the branches began to whip around with the rising wind. “Take Toby to the cellar. We’ll be right there.”

Ryan’s stride ate up the ground, and Paige had to run to catch up. “Lucinda, let’s go,” she urged.

“I gotta find Sweet Pea,” she pleaded. “He’s ’fraid of storms.”

“I’ll get the dog.” Ryan put his hands on Lucinda’s shoulders and tried to get her moving. “You go in with your aunt.”

“Sweet Pea,” Lucinda cried, refusing to move from the spot.

The wind that had kicked up mere seconds ago disappeared. A greenish cast and stillness settled over them, and a chill ran up her spine. “Now, Lucinda. Sweet Pea will be all right.
Animals have instincts about the weather. He’ll know to hole up somewhere.”

“Who told you that?” Ryan’s expression turned skeptical while he searched the tall grass growing by the edge of the trees.

Paige grabbed her niece’s hand and started pulling her toward the house. “Come on, Ryan,” Paige called. “This storm is going to hit any second.”

“You go on. I’ll be right in.”

She hoisted Lucinda into her arms. “Leave the dog. Let’s go.”

He must’ve sensed something in her tone, because he stopped searching and turned to her. “I’ll be fine. Take Lucinda to the cellar, and as soon as I have the dog, I’ll follow.”

“No. Come inside with me now. You are
not
putting your life on the line for a dog.” Her heart hammered against her ribs, and Lucinda’s tears dampened her T-shirt. “Please.” She couldn’t disguise her rising panic. “Please,” she repeated.

He took off his cowboy hat and raked his fingers through his hair. “All right. I’m right behind you.”

“Sweet Pea!” Lucinda squirmed to get out of her arms.

Paige held her niece tight and ran for the front door. “Hush. Sweet Pea will be fine.” They got to the front door, and Ryan reached around her to open it. The moment she was inside, the wind started howling again, and marble-size hail pummeled the house and ground. The sirens kept up their wail, and everything went as dark as night. Paige rushed to the cellar door off the kitchen and hurried down into the musty dampness with her niece held securely in her arms. It wasn’t until they were in the small windowless root cellar that she realized Ryan was not behind her. “Shit.”

Lucinda gasped and pulled back to peer at her. “You said a bad word.”

“I couldn’t help it.”

Toby sat in the midst of his toys in a portable playpen. The oil lamps Ceejay had lit cast a dim yellow glow over the old wicker furniture set up around the space so they could sit out any storm in relative comfort.

“Ryan is still out there,” Paige muttered. “He’s looking for the dog.” She put Lucinda down and walked to the bottom of the stairs.

Ceejay’s cell phone rang, and her sister-in-law answered.

Paige knew it was her brother checking to see that they were all safe. Straining to hear Ryan’s footsteps on the floor above, she silently fell apart. Panic, anger, and fear swirled through her until she couldn’t breathe. She imagined the worst. He’d be hit with lightning or a falling tree. Maybe he’d be swept up into the funnel of a tornado.
Oh, God. Please don’t let anything happen to him.

“Ryan will be fine.” Ceejay put her hand on Paige’s shoulder. “He’s within sight of the house. It’s not like he’s stranded out in a field somewhere.”

Paige nodded. A boom of thunder exploded, shaking the house. Hail hitting the outside walls pinged in her ears, and the wind took on the cadence of a freight train. Still, she strained to hear the reassuring thump of Ryan’s footsteps above. She held her breath, and her eyes never left the door at the top of the stairs. She didn’t want anything to happen to him. She didn’t want to lose him for any reason. Not now. Not ever.
Crap.

The door at the top of the steps flew open, and Ryan appeared at the top, carrying the soaking mutt draped over his shoulders. He picked his way carefully down each step until he reached the bottom. “Get the door for me,” he told her as he squatted to free the dog.

Relief swamped her, followed by rage. Paige raced up the steps, slammed the door shut, and ran back down, ready to kill him. “Don’t ever do that again,” she growled with her hands fisted by her sides.

“Don’t ever do what again?” He swiped at the rainwater dripping from his face.

“You said you were right behind me, and then you disappeared. I can’t believe you’d risk your life that way for a dog,” she gritted out. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?” Her voice broke, and she had to turn away.

“You had no reason to worry.” Ryan drew her into his arms and held her. “I’m fine, darlin’. I was never in any danger.”

“You ran out into a storm, Ryan—into hail, lightning, and possibly a tornado! Who does that for an animal?” she cried.

“Look.” He nodded toward what he wanted her to see.

She followed his gaze to Lucinda and Sweet Pea. Her niece had her face buried in the wet dog’s fur and her arms wrapped tight around his thick neck. Toby patted the mutt’s head through the slats of his playpen. Sweet Pea’s tail thumped against the floor.

“I didn’t put my life at risk for the dog. I did it for them.” He leaned back to peer into her face. “Besides, I was close to the house. Oklahoma is smack-dab in the middle of tornado alley. Don’t you think I know how to handle that kind of danger?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest, soothed by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Surrounded by his strong arms and enveloped in his scent, she felt her own racing heart slow and the tension gripping her leach away. Oh, man. She’d already given him her heart. Without even realizing, she’d done it—she’d fallen for Ryan Malloy.

Friendship my ass.

CHAPTER NINE

R
YAN CONTEMPLATED HIS REFLECTION IN
the mirror while he shaved for his date with Paige. Was it his imagination, or did he look healthier, more human? Naw. Looks could be deceiving, and he no longer had a face covered in fur, that’s all. Besides, if the way his stomach tied into knots at the thought of running into his uncle or cousins tonight was any indication, he hadn’t gotten any closer to healthy in the past week.

His first appointment with the army shrink was coming up next Thursday, and that got him thinking. He’d been through the obligatory therapy sessions after the suicide bombing in Iraq, and he knew how it worked. A shrink would draw him into open-ended questions to imply that avoiding his family was not in his best interest. They didn’t come right out and say those kinds of things. Nope. Head doctors loved to lead conversations around in circles until you eventually came to the conclusions they wanted you to come to in the first place. Shrinks were good at that kind of thing. In this case, maybe they were right.

If his uncle and any of his cousins were in Evansville for the rodeo—and more than likely, they were—he’d be an ass not to at least stop by and say hello. Maybe he’d even screw up the courage
to call his parents next week. His folks would appreciate knowing where he was and what he was doing. Hadn’t Noah as much as ordered him to call his mom?

The thought of reconnecting with his family, facing them after all this time, sent a tremor of dread sluicing through him. He tensed for the onslaught of memories sure to follow. They didn’t come. Instead, a gut-wrenching longing to see his brothers, sister, and parents brought a hollow ache to his chest. Blowing out a slow breath, he snatched the clean shirt from the hook behind the bathroom door and put it on.

He needed to ground himself in the green of Paige’s eyes and hear her voice. He needed to have her beside him with her hand securely gripped in his. Shaking off the melancholy thoughts of family, he grabbed his cowboy hat from its peg on the wall and headed for the big house. He took the veranda steps two at a time and knocked on the front door.

Lucinda opened it and leaned her head back to stare into his face. Sweet Pea stood beside her with his tongue out and saliva hanging in slobbery strands from his huge jowls. “Hey there, Lucinda, is your aunt Paige ready to go?” He leaned down and scratched the dog behind his ears. “How’s ol’ tubba-ugly today?”

“You saved Sweet Pea.” The little girl looked far too serious for her age.

“He would’ve made it through all right on his own, Luce. I’m just glad everything turned out the way it did.” The storm had raged by them. Hail had flattened some of the smaller bushes out front, and a few tree branches had come down, but that’s all the damage they’d suffered.

Lucinda threw her arms around his knees and gave him a fierce hug. His heart dissolved into a puddle at the bottom of his stomach. He held her by the shoulders and squatted down to eye
level. “Hey, now, it’s all right.” He opened his arms, and she came in for a good, long hug. Sweet Pea moved in and gave his face a couple of grateful licks. “Yuck, I’ve been slimed.”

Lucinda giggled, and Ryan patted her back. “You OK now, sweetheart?”

She nodded against him, and his chest swelled. He heard movement from the stairs and looked up. Paige and Ceejay stood on the second-floor landing. Lucinda backed out of his arms, and he rose. “She wanted to thank me for rescuing Sweet Pea from the storm. Do you mind if I head for the kitchen sink to rinse Sweet Pea’s gratitude off my face? He thanked me too.”

“Yeah, we saw.” Ceejay laughed. “Go ahead.”

Ryan winked at Paige and hurried to rinse off the drool covering his cheek. By the time he returned, Paige waited alone for him by the door. His pulse raced at the sight of her. She wore snug jeans that accentuated her curvy hips, while the tank top she wore under her cotton blouse gave him a teasing glimpse of cleavage that sent his blood rushing.

Her sleeves were rolled up, and her shirt was unbuttoned, with the tails tied at her waist. As if that weren’t enough, she wore her sexy black boots. He studied them, imagining her wearing nothing but the boots and a provocative smile.

“I don’t own cowboy boots.” She held one foot out and turned it from side to side. “I hope these will do.”

He swallowed. “They’ll do just fine.” His voice came out a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”

One side of her mouth quirked up. “Are we taking my car today?”

“Not a chance.” He sent her a mock glower. “It would be against the cowboy code of ethics to show up at a rodeo without my truck.” Her laughter washed through him, leaving a wave
of lust in its wake. He placed his hand at the small of her back, inhaled the soft musky scent of the cologne she used, and ushered her out the door. Lord, he wanted her in the worst way. Why the hell hadn’t he chosen to wear a looser-fitting pair of jeans?