Critical Instinct(15)

But then they pulled up to the gate at her house and the moment was lost. They were back at her house, her fortress, the place where she hid from the world. Paige entered the code. She’d had a good time today with Brett, but would she be willing to go out again on her own after what had happened with those teenagers? And would Brett even want to hang around her after what she had told him?

Now instead of feeling like a coward, she felt like a nutcase and a coward.

He pulled around the circular drive until the car was in front of her door, then shut off the engine. Almost immediately, Tom, the other main member of her security team was at the car.

“Ms. Jeffries, Jacob reported what happened downtown today. Are you okay? Is there anything you need?”

Paige stole a glance over at Brett who was walking his way around the car. “I’m fine, Tom. Seriously, it was nothing. Just some kids being rowdy and I totally overreacted.”

The thought of how scared she’d been, how stupid she’d been, caused her stomach to tighten. She was just so tired of it all.

“Definitely not an overreaction based on her history,” Brett told Tom while shaking the man’s hand. “Teenagers can be morons and rarely think about how their actions may affect someone else.”

“Jacob was upset and felt that he had made the wrong call allowing you to walk alone.”

Paige sighed and shrugged. “You guys can’t protect me from all the bad, scary teenagers in the world.”

The man looked like he might argue the point, but Paige wouldn’t let him.

“Jacob didn’t make a mistake. I wanted to get out alone. I probably pushed it too far for it being my first attempt.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “If my phone hadn’t broken, I would’ve called Jacob right away to come get me. Nobody’s fault; just bad luck.”

But then Paige thought about the black she saw down the alley after the teenagers had left. The same blackness she had seen and felt last night after the show. Just like the day she’d been attacked.

Had it been bad luck? A shudder ran through her. The most frustrating part of this entire situation was her inability to trust her own judgment. She had no idea when she was safe or when she was just allowing her imagination to run away with her.

“But maybe a discreet distance tail might be in order in the future,” Brett was telling Tom.

Yes, please. Somebody follow her around because evidently she was unable to determine the difference between safety and danger. She had no idea if the shadows she saw were real or only in her head.

Paige murmured her thanks to Tom and headed inside. Brett was still talking with him, but she didn’t want to listen any longer. She just walked inside to the kitchen, taking off her jacket and putting it on the kitchen table. She got the pieces of her broken phone and laid that out too.

“Hey, you doing okay?” She felt Brett’s gentle touch on her shoulder.

“Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever recover from what happened to me.” She turned and walked over to the sink, facing out the window. “That I’m broken.”

She could see his vague reflection in the window as he came to stand behind her, but he didn’t touch her again.

“If you’re talking about what happened today, I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

She turned to face him. “I’m talking about how I’ve lived inside this house for nearly two years, afraid that something that was probably a random occurrence will happen again. I’m afraid that I’ve let some silly teenagers goofing off force me back into this house for two more years. I’m afraid that I told you about seeing auras and now you’re looking at me like I’m a few Bradys short of a bunch.”

He smirked. “I was going to say a few marshmallows short of a bowl of Lucky Charms.”

She smacked him on the arm as he laughed. “That’s not funny.”

“A couple tires short of an eighteen wheeler?”

She groaned, wiping her hand across her face. He was joking she knew, but he didn’t even know the full extent of everything. “I don’t blame you if you want to leave. If you think I’m crazy. If I was you I’d get as far as possible—”

She forgot what she was going to say as he stepped closer and took the hand she was using to rub her forehead. He gently brought her fingers up to his lips and kissed them before lowering them down to her side.

She couldn’t stop looking into his soft brown eyes —was almost mesmerized by the flecks of gold in them— as he reached down, grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up onto the counter by the sink. Then he reached down and gripped her hips and slid her all the way to the edge until she was flat up against his hard body.

All without any hurry.

“You’re not crazy. And there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

Perched up on the counter put them much closer to being eye to eye. Brett’s hands slid up her back to either side of her neck, threading into her hair.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t brief like last night at the show. It was thorough. Hot. Wet. Every single thought about anything flew out of her mind and all Paige could do was feel.

She saw in colors all the time, but never before had she felt in colors. Even with her eyes closed colors seemed to bombard her.

It went on and on. She pressed her body closer to his, hooking her leg around his thigh, her fingers finding his hair and raking their way through its thickness.

She couldn’t remember ever feeling like this. Not even before the attack.

Paige shuddered and couldn’t hold back a soft moan as his lips left hers and trailed their way down her jaw and began taking soft nips at the side of her neck. She slid herself closer, but winced from the pain in her elbow before she could stop herself.

“Wow,” he murmured against her mouth. “That got out of control a little faster than I thought possible.” He backed up from her. “Is your arm okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just moved it the wrong way and it caught me off guard.”

A throat cleared from the entrance of the kitchen.

“Ms. Jeffries?” It was Tom. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve done my security sweep through the building. I’m retiring to the guard house for the evening.”

Color flooded Paige’s face. Had Tom come through earlier and she and Brett hadn’t even realized it? Brett turned so he was standing in front of her, blocking her from view of the older man. Not that Tom was trying to look. He seemed to be looking everywhere but directly at her.

“Thanks, Tom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said from behind Brett’s back. That was the normal security procedure. Whoever was working checked the big house then went out to the smaller guard house for the night. They still had both audio and visual communication channels open if needed, and they always kept close watch over the grounds and gate, but Paige preferred to be alone in the house.

The thought of which right now both thrilled and terrified her.

With Tom’s exit she was left alone in the kitchen with Brett. Again, leaving her both thrilled and terrified.

He stepped away, leaning back against the side counter so he could see her, grinning.

“If Tom had gotten here a few minutes later, he might have gotten quite an eyeful.”

Paige couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Yeah, the guys aren’t used to me having gentlemen callers/detectives around. Especially in the evening.”

“Especially making out with them in your kitchen.”

Paige laughed again. “Yeah, that’s only happened three or four times in the last week.”

The smile he gave her caused heat to pool in her belly. “Well, I hope I at least rank in the top half of your suitors.”

“You’re not too bad. Maybe even the top third.” Oh my gosh. Was she actually flirting with the QB? Her sister Chloe would be proud. Hell, Paige was proud of herself.

She walked over to him. “Want me to show you around the rest of the house? I do have other rooms besides the kitchen.”

Paige just prayed she’d have enough nerve to show him the room she really wanted him in: her bedroom.





Paige was nervous. Not that Brett blamed her. It had been a long, stressful day for her.

She showed him the living room again —the view was even more tremendous with twilight falling on Portland as it had been last week in full sun— and then moved on to show him her studio.

She was most comfortable in the studio. Obviously spent a great deal of time here, her movements were almost muscle memory. She knew where everything was and everything was obviously placed to her liking.

The room was the epitome of artistic chaos. Canvases of all different sizes, multiple easels, hundreds of paint containers. The paints were all lined up in a methodical fashion on the wall. Obviously when Paige wanted a color she didn’t want to have to search for it.

Although her supplies were neat and organized, nothing else was. Paints that had either missed the canvas entirely or had been forcefully removed lay splattered all over the walls and floors. Clothes lay strewn everywhere. Obviously as Paige had gotten hotter or colder when she worked she had used the different items of clothing, mostly sweatshirts and sweaters, but then had forgotten about them. There were at least a dozen lying about, on chairs, on the floor, over the sink.