Not in Her Wildest Dreams(30)

"Yesterday."

"And you didn't think to call me?" She looked away as soon as the words  left her lips, mouth firming like she was sorry she'd said that.

He felt another kick of guilt, which annoyed him for no reason he could  grasp. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looked around for someone  doing something stupid so he could yell at them.

"If you have something to say, say it," he said, because the silence was  thick with the herd of elephants standing on both their toes.

She flinched and her shoulders went back. "I suppose your mother has  been all over town with it?" Her gaze lodged like an arrow in his  shoulder, her tone pointed and poisonous.

His mother had made her opinion of the association known over Sunday  dinner, but he'd been too busy arguing with his father to bite. She'd  dropped it once he'd proposed investing his own money for the upgrade.

"No," he said, but it could have been a lie. He had no idea. "Why? Would it be so disastrous if people knew?"

She gave him a disbelieving look. Persecution lurked in the shadows of her irises.

"No. I'm a Fogarty, after all. Dad did that all the time, you know. He  would promise to talk to my teacher, so she wouldn't treat me like a  troublemaker just because Lyle was. Then a week later it would be, ‘Oh,  no, I'm sorry, we didn't get around to discussing that.' Because he'd  slept with her, of course. I want you to quit picking on Lyle, Sterling.  That's what I was supposed to accomplish on Saturday and here you've  gone and sent him home! Nice job, Paige."

He didn't like that self-loathing in her tone. It sounded too much like regret.

"I'm not picking on him. I'm just not giving him the special treatment he's used to. Don't ask me to start."

"Because I slept with you? Oh, believe me, I'm not under any illusions  as to what that'll earn me." She dragged her hair off her eyes again and  they seemed really shiny, which might have been the wind, but it might  have been hurt.

He should have called. Now they didn't even have their friendly banter.

She made a noise of dismissal and started to walk away.

"Hey," he said, trying to halt her. He didn't want her brother to keep  coming between them. Or his mother. Maybe not even that soft, slippery  dress. "I should have called. Not just about work."         

     



 

"It's fine. It didn't even happen." She shrugged off his touch. "Why are  you buying into the factory when you're not staying to run it?"

"You're shivering. Let's talk in the office," he waved her to start walking. "Want my vest?"

"I'm fine. I like the wind. It clears my head." She started back the way she had come.

He paced alongside her, working up an explanation since, once again, he  didn't really know what he was doing. He'd had a number of frustrations  riding him Sunday afternoon when he'd decided to take this step.

She glanced up at him, waiting for his answer. The wind pulled at her  hair, her dress rippled to hide, then reveal, the shape of her breasts  and the points the chill had drawn from them.

Beautiful, he thought, and wanted things from her. He felt like something was eating a hole inside him and tried to ignore it.

"The company is keeping up with competitors because there's a certain  prestige attached to the Roy name and because Dad and Grady made a good  team."

"That's quite an admission."

He shrugged. "No one denies your father sold the hell out of the  product. My dad made sure it got out the door. Neither spent a penny  they didn't absolutely have to, so it worked to a point. But Grady's  cashing out and Dad's not going to be here if he runs for Mayor."

"Everyone is so convinced he'll win. Makes you wonder."

"We're not buying votes," he said with disgust. "But he has a lot of  support. Hell, at this point it's outright pressure and not just from  Mom. He'll win. And the company will need every advantage to avoid  falling behind, so upgrades have to happen sooner rather than later."

She searched his expression, needing more.

"And my parents could use some extra cash to play with if you come in with a higher figure than they're expecting."

She halted. "So you've bought into your father's half? And changed your mind? You want to stay?"

Her tone held the same incredulity it would if she were asking, ‘You  want gonorrhea?' And he strongly suspected any desire on his part to  stick around would make him as attractive in her eyes as he would be  with a dose.

"No, but-" He didn't feel the usual compulsion to get out, either.  Actually, he felt a massive desire to plumb the potential in this  company and was trying to ignore it.

He motioned for her to walk ahead of him through a narrow gap between  lumber loads, so he could gather his thoughts. He was losing sight of  his reasons for staying. He hadn't intended to put on his father's  shoes, but it was amazing how much of the abhorrence he'd once felt at  the thought of doing so had dissipated. He was enjoying living at  Gran's, fixing the house, making decisions here at the factory that  produced tangible results. He felt significant in a way that just didn't  happen when he was a stranger ‘babysitting' someone else's company.

And there were things here in Liebe Falls he'd barely remembered, but  that he had been missing the entire time he'd been gone, things that  would give him a genuine sense of loss to leave again. Like the damp. It  was humid in the Carolinas, but not in the same way. Who knew you could  miss air thick with cool moisture that smelled like, well, it smelled  like home. And nowhere else did the moss and ferns look quite the same  brilliant green when the sunlight slanted on them.

Then there was Paige.

She waited on the far side of the loads, face turned up to the sun, eyes  closed, kissable. He bet if he drew her back between the loads, she'd  smell like that Chinook wind.

"You want to go for dinner tonight?" It came out of him before he'd fully thought it through.

"No."

Ouch. That's what you get for not calling, asshole.

She wore a scowl, but glanced at him the way women gazed at shoes they knew they couldn't afford, but wanted anyway. Coveting.

"I have to work." Her mouth pursed briefly in indecision before she slid  him a glance. "I work with this bear who wants numbers, numbers,  numbers."

It was a dig, but a gentle one. It set them almost back to where they'd  been before he'd slept with her and made him want to smile.

"Yeah? What's his name? I'll lean on him." He pressed into his own toes,  fractionally invading her space. "I'll tell him to quit hassling you  about your brother while I'm at it."

He knew better than to bring up Lyle. Her expression lost all its softness, becoming stiff and blank.

"I'm cold. I'm going in." The papers went back under her arm,  practically into her armpit. She turned with a slight stumble and  beelined toward the front entrance.         

     



 

If she hadn't been looking at him like he was the cherry on a sundae  before he'd brought up her brother and killed it, he might not have  thought her reaction so suspicious, but something was going on.

He needed to find out what.





Chapter Eighteen

Sterling showed up with pizza after everyone else had gone home. Her heart leapt as he carried the box to the shelf behind her.

"What's this?"

"If you can't come to dinner, dinner will come to you." The blinds  rattled and she turned to see him worming a finger through the blades so  he could peek at the floor. "I wish Quinn's office had a window." A  pause, then, "We need more light in the southeast corner." He released  the blinds.

She swiveled back to stare at the petty cash records, trying to remember  what she'd been doing before he had walked through the door, but she  was too tuned to his presence, her concentration shot. Sex, sex, don't  let him see what I'm doing and sex, were all she was capable of  thinking.

"Like olives?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry," she lied, even as the scent of chewy carbs and spicy  pepperoni had her stomach clenching in anticipation. But she had refused  his dinner invitation because she had this possible bomb in her audit  to defuse.

She glanced back to see if her pretend lack of enthusiasm had had any  effect. The sight of him made her entire body clench in anticipation. He  wore the suit pants and white striped shirt from earlier today. His  shoulders were a special gift from God, perfectly balanced and  epitomizing strength. His long back narrowed at his belted waist, and  his buttocks were firm and beautiful, making her remember how they'd  felt, hard and powerful under her hands, flexing as he had thrust into  her.

The feel of him pumping in her had been like a high, sweet note. She'd  nearly vibrated with the sustained magic of that pleasure level, before  the intensity had gathered and struck like glass bursting against  intense heat. Exploding. Shattering.

She wondered what might have happened if his mother hadn't interrupted.  Would they have gone again? She had come hard, and it hadn't mattered. A  greedy hunger had gripped her in those post climax moments. Desire for  more. Keep going. Do it again.