Not in Her Wildest Dreams(20)

It was nice, making the neighborhood feel the way he remembered it as a  kid, vibrant and secure. Which reassured him. He'd let the thought of  Paige surprising the burglar keep him up last night.

He followed the worn path down the side of the house, through the break  at the end of the fence between this yard and Grady's, and walked  between the hedge trees and car bodies to the front of Grady's house.

The music, an angry threat that anyone coming around would be thrown  out, grew louder as he approached. It was spilling from the flush  mounted speakers in Grady's open garage. Inside the garage, Paige's car  sat on blocks.

The front door of the house stood wide open.         

     



 

Excellent security measures, given what she'd come home to yesterday.

Sterling shook his head, then took the front stairs two at a time,  finding Paige kneeling on a dining room chair, plugging a power cord  into a laptop dock.

"You left the door op-"

She jumped and screamed. The cordless phone she held to her ear fell with a clatter. "Oh, God! Sterling!"

She reached to pick up the phone, said into it, "I'm fine. Don't panic.  Someone startled me is all. A guy I work with. Just a guy, it doesn't  matter. No, I'm fine, but I should g- Yes that one. No. I'm only here  until I finish the audit and negotiate a price." She rolled her eyes at  Sterling, like she was fielding yet another annoying accusation about  taking over for good. "Six months at most, then I'm coming back to  Seattle so I still need it. No. I'm going now. No. I'm going."

She stabbed a button and clattered the phone onto the table.

"My ex," she said with a frustrated glare at the offensive device. "I  got the apartment in the divorce and he still wants it. Won't stop  bugging me for it." She pressed a hand to the middle of her chest. "Man,  you scared me."

"Really. Imagine how you'd be reacting if I was here to break more than  your concentration. What are you doing leaving yourself unprotected like  this?" The words came out sharper than he'd intended. If that ex of  hers was so worried about her, he ought to be here, looking after her,  not screwing someone else.

"Rosie was here most of the morning and Olinda just left." Paige nodded  toward a box overflowing with files. "She dropped off some work for me."

"Oh. And here I thought you were resting up from your ordeal."

"Actually, I'm getting around. This foot doesn't hurt at all and Brit  dropped off Zack's crutches from when he broke his leg." She set her  laptop in the dock and watched the light change color. "I probably could  have come in to work. I just couldn't figure out how to, um-" She  touched where her hair was skimmed off her forehead and held by a yellow  clip. "-shower."

"Mmm." He took in her lack of make-up, her bicycle shorts that fit like a  second skin and her If It Never Rains In California What Am I Doing In  Seattle T-shirt that covered-thank you, Lord-braless breasts.

"So, anyway, what did you want?" She folded her arms.

"To make sure you're safe and sound. And to check inside Granny's house."

"Oh. So you were serious about moving in there? Frankly, if you and your  dad are fighting, you should do it at home, away from where the  employees can overhear it."

"When I want advice, I ask for it," he said in a perfect mock of his father.

"And what does your mother say? About your moving in, I mean."

From the garage, he could hear the music kicking over to a woman claiming she didn't give a damn about her bad reputation.

"That it's a terrible neighborhood. I pointed out the house could be a target for squatters if it stays empty."

"Hmph. Well, it seems a lot of trouble to go to for a few weeks."

"Actually, I'll probably be here a little long-"

"Ha." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "I knew you couldn't be trusted to leave when you said!"

"Hey, did I look happy last night? I lost a contract because of this. I'm pissed."

"That's what your phone call was about?"

He nodded once.

"You sounded pretty cheerful when you answered. You called whoever it was ‘sugar.'"

Was that a sulk? He folded his own arms and leaned his shoulder into the  wall, feeling cheerful all of a sudden. "Patty," he said. "My partner.  In the company. Not romantically." He thought about adding Patty's  sexual orientation, but he wasn't one of those  some-of-my-best-friends-are-lesbians braggarts. "Neither of us is happy  this deal went south."

"If it's that important, you should go." Paige looked sincere.

He shrugged. "Why work for yourself if you can't pick and choose when  you work and for whom? I'm needed at the factory right now, even if you  and Dad won't admit it."

"I'll admit that your father needs help. But I still don't see why you have to live next door to me while you do it."

He removed the key from his pocket and hitched his head in the direction  of the house. "Come give me your opinion," he invited. "Tell me if you  think it's worth my time to renovate."         

     



 

Why he said that, he didn't know, since she was determined to talk him  out of it. Maybe because he'd come damned close to crossing certain  lines yesterday evening and all he could think about was doing it again.  Doing it right. Going all the way.

"It's probably worth someone's time," she conceded, taking up her  crutches, giving them to him when they reached the top of the stairs.  She braced herself between the rail and his arm as she bounced down the  stairs beside him. "But it doesn't seem fair to take this opportunity  from a young family who won't be able to afford it after it's  renovated."

He rolled his eyes, admiring her tenacity, then went ahead of her out  the front door, circumnavigating her father's Wildcat while she closed  the front door of the house and the big garage door, too.

"Can I ask you something? It's none of my business, but I've always wondered," he said.

"What?"

"How come you stayed here when your parents divorced? Was your mom's place not big enough?"

Paige's eyes went dark and vulnerable. She started around the outside of  the house, toward the path that led down the side. For a minute he  thought she wasn't going to answer, but when he caught up to walk  alongside her, she answered.

"Mom is bipolar. We didn't know it then. All I knew growing up was that  sometimes she loved me and sometimes she hated me. It was like that for  all of us. She left because Dad was cheating, but he cheated because Mom  made him crazy. She made us all crazy. It was a huge relief the day she  was diagnosed and I could finally believe it wasn't my fault that she  acted the way she did. It took a while to find the right medication and  she's been stable for a long time now, but I couldn't live with her back  then. She wanted me to, but I couldn't."

So she'd stayed with the ne'er do well brother and the womanizing  father. Sterling absorbed that, seeing old heartache in her expression.  That's why Paige was so self-reliant. When had she ever had anyone to  lean on?

The music followed them, filling the silence, blaring through the open  windows at the back of the house as they made their slow way, in  deference to her crutches, across the yards. But it was a nice day and  The Proclaimers-finally a band he recognized-were celebrating their  shift from misery to happiness.

"What is this you're listening to?" he asked.

"Soundtrack for Shrek. Get used to the music if you're determined to move in. We make lousy neighbors. Always have."

"I'm guessing you're not head of the Welcome Wagon." They reached the  back porch. He paused as he set the key in the lock, adding, "Unless  this place was used to slaughter pigs, I'm moving in."

She sighed. "I was afraid you'd say something like that."





Chapter Twelve

"Why does it bother you so much?" he asked, opening the door and stepping in.

Paige stayed on the porch, just poked her head in, maintaining a sense  of boundary. She wasn't about to admit she was starting to feel all  moonie over him again. It was embarrassing. If he was living in her back  pocket, backyard, it might get worse. She'd rather he kept to the other  side of town where he belonged.

"I'm not bothered."

"Right," he scoffed and moved into the kitchen.

As a child, she used to knock on this door and ask Mrs. Melker for a  cookie, or lemonade in the summer. She even ate supper here some nights,  after her mother left.

The kitchen was gloomy behind the closed curtains and smelled like stale  wood-smoke. Sterling tried the lights. They didn't work so he opened  the curtains beside where the kitchen table should have been. He checked  the corner cupboard.

"Looking for peppermints?" Paige teased.

"Owl eggs, she called them." He walked through the archway into what his grandmother had referred to as ‘the parlor.'