"I doubt that will make a difference. What happened?"
She told him what Cam thought of the fire, that someone might have deliberately tried to kill her.
Anthony grew more appalled by the second. When she finished, there was a white line around his lips. "Come back to Seattle with me."
Behind her, the back door swung open as Sterling came onto the porch wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers. "What is your prejudice against jackets?"
He descended and crossed the grass to drape Harvard over her shoulders. His one hand stayed heavy on the back of her neck while his other reached past her toward Anthony. "Sterling Roy."
Anthony took a moment before reaching out for one desultory shake.
"Anthony Sebastiano," Paige murmured. "He brought this for me to give to your mother." She handed Sterling the money.
Sterling glanced into the cloth bag and offered it back to her. "Not exactly a pound cake. What the hell is that for?"
"I don't like being in her debt." She didn't take it back, only turned to Anthony, squinting against the intense blue sky. "About what I said last night."
Oh, it was going to kill her to give up the apartment, but she hadn't been able to think of any other way to raise the money.
"I know I said I'd be out in ninety days if you brought the down payment today, but that was before my father's house burned to the ground. I don't know how soon I can get back to Seattle-"
He snorted. "Not my problem. If you set boundaries just once in your life-"
"Someone tried to kill me, you lunk head!"
"So get the hell away from here! Come back to Seattle with me. That's not your husband telling you that. You always thought I was being possessive, but I'm not." His gaze went past her to Sterling. "If it's dangerous for you here, then you should leave. If people here cared about you, they'd tell you the same thing."
"If Paige wants to leave, I'll take her," Sterling said in a hard voice. "But we need to talk about a few things," he added in a gentler tone, looking at her with a somber gaze. He tried to give her the bag again. "Starting with this. Mom burned the promissory note," he reminded her.
She shook her head. "I'd like it if you'd give it to her. It saves me from having to talk to her, but I want her to have it. I can't stand owing her anything."
"My mother misses you, Paige," Anthony said, voice lowering to a coax. "If we left now, we could be back in time for Sunday dinner. She'd love to see you."
"That might be awkward, with the divorcee from down the hall sitting beside you," Sterling interjected. "When is she due?"
Anthony stiffened.
"Stop it." Paige held up a warning finger at Sterling. His color was high, his gaze locked with Anthony's.
Men. Not that her ego didn't appreciate it, but he wasn't helping.
And she really wasn't up for a forensic audit on any of her relationships.
"Fine," she said to Anthony, "I'll be out in ninety days."
"But you're not coming back with me now."
"You want to fight for five hours? That doesn't sound like fun to me."
"Is this town fun for you?" He started toward where his car was parked in front of the rubble that was her father's house. "Call me if you need anything."
~ * ~
Sterling hated Paige's ex because he wasn't a complete asshole.
Of course, she'd barely said a word since the man had stormed off, but at least she was sitting at his grandmother's kitchen table now, not at Anthony Sebastiano's mother's.
"I'm to tell you to call Britta if you need anything," he told Paige, starting a can of chicken noodle soup on the stove.
Paige nodded, her entire body seeming to huddle around the cup of honey and lemon tea he'd just made her. His jacket was still slouched across her shoulders.
Maybe he should have let her go. What was he intending if she stayed? Marriage? Was he ready to go there? Was she? Maybe he should ask her to live with him for a while, until they knew where they stood.
Oh, yeah, that'd be one to tell the grandkids. And there was Grandma, looking like death warmed over. I proposed living in sin, in a town where someone was trying to kill her, then offered her a bowl of canned soup while the romantic sound of Uncle Lyle swearing at the plumbing drifted from the bathroom. She kneed me in the teeth.
Lyle stalked into the kitchen, looking fed up with inanimate objects that didn't cooperate. He helped himself to a cola, cracked it open.
"Hair lip gone?" he asked.
"Don't call him that."
Sterling paused in stirring. Her ex hadn't had the scars of a cleft pallet. "The soul patch? Yeah, what is it with guys who don't grow a proper beard? It looked like a caterpillar crawled onto his chin and died."
Lyle choked on his cola, lowered it, and laughed. "Don't marry other men, Pidge. Golden Boy doesn't like it."
Sterling felt the heat of having revealed too much sting his face. He turned to collect bowls out of the cupboard. "Are you having some?" he asked Lyle.
"No, I'm going to the D.I.Y. for a fitting and some grout. You want me to replace this window, too?" Lyle already had his tape measure out. "What happened?"
Paige didn't say anything as Lyle sized the window.
"Your sister disagreed with my HR policies."
Lyle snapped the tape back into its casing, bowed his head at Paige. "That's quite a valentine, Pidge. I heart you, too. You want lino or tiles on the bathroom floor? I'll get some samples while I'm at the hardware store."
Silence.
Paige looked up with surprise when she realized they were both waiting for her answer. "What are you asking me for? It's Sterling's house."
Lyle looked from Paige to Sterling and back to Paige. "You're not staying? ‘Cause Golden Boy said-"
"I haven't asked her to stay yet," Sterling said, knowing he sounded short, but hell, every time he got her alone they were interrupted.
Paige's eyes widened. Her breath must have stopped because the steam from her cup rose undisturbed before her face.
Lyle pulled the tape out with a metallic hiss, let it snap back in again.
Paige cleared her throat and looked into her tea. "I don't know what I'm doing."
Sterling folded his arms and leaned his hip into the counter, his chest so tight he could barely breathe. "Pick up some paint chips while you're at the D.I.Y. And tile will be fine." Dawdle.
"Sure thing, boss." Lyle drew out and snapped back his tape measure again. As he hooked it into his belt loop, he said, "I'll ask around while I'm out. See if I can bunk with a buddy, ‘cause I'm not going back to that freakin' clinic. If anything would make a man turn to chronic drug use, it's those white-coat bureaucrats."
"What buddies?" Paige raised her head. "Those bar-flies you call friends? I thought the lawyer said you needed to stay sober? You'd be off the wagon and under the wheel within an hour."
"Well, G.B. invited me to stay here, but I'm not staying if you're not."
"Use my apartment in Seattle for a couple of months."
"I have a job if I stay here."
"At the factory?" She brightened.
"Here. Remodelling."
"When did you two decide that?"
Yeah, Sterling wondered, when had Lyle mentioned he'd be billing for his hours?
"When you were sleeping," Sterling said, and waited for her decision.
"Then stay here," she said with a simplistic shrug.
"I'm not staying if you're not. The whole town'll think I'm turning."
"It's that Fogarty charm," Sterling drawled. "Being a Roy, I can't resist."
"See? He's flirting already."
"No one is going to think either of you is gay," Paige said, rolling her eyes.
"Whatever." Lyle slurped his soda and shrugged. "I'm not staying here without you so I'll go pack- Well, shit. Not much to pack, is there? Color me gone."
"Lyle. Just...go to the hardware store. I'll figure something out."
"Fine. I'll get rid of that sink on my way," he offered to Sterling.
Sterling carried it out of the house while Lyle drove his truck around to meet him at the end of the driveway.
"Straight time, no overtime," Sterling told him as they lifted the sink into the bed of the truck. "You want to work fourteen hour days, that's your choice."
"You're welcome," Lyle said.
Yeah, yeah, but how grateful could he be when he felt as though he was manipulating her? He wanted her to stay because she wanted to.
Chapter Thirty-One
While the men were outside, Paige made herself eat some soup and thought about what Sterling had said about asking her to stay.
Was he being neighborly or did he mean stay? Her throat lost its ability to swallow. When he came back in, she gave up eating altogether.
He ignored the bowl she'd filled and set for him on the other side of the table, cocked his hip against the counter, folded his arms, and looked so brooding and grim she couldn't meet his gaze.