Worth It All(18)

“Hi, my name is Paige and this is Richie.” She readjusted herself on the stool, switched her legs, never looking at her audience. “We’ll be your entertainment for the next twenty minutes.”

She smiled over at the guy with the guitar, probably to let him know she was ready, but Jake felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. He didn’t like another man backing her up, easing her nerves. He played a little himself, another thing he’d picked up since the accident. Never considered playing in front of people, but he would. For her.

He’d thought about her way more than he should have since she’d been in his office. Standing close to him, smiling, talking. Somehow he’d ended up at the diner, telling himself it was to check on Casey’s prosthesis. That’s it. It was work. He just wanted to know if his adjustment had solved the problem. And yet here he was, staring at Paige, an uncomfortable feeling in his chest, like if he blinked she might disappear.

He shook his head at himself and finished his beer.

Her soft voice flowed out and around him, clean and clear, so effortless, no one would ever know she was nervous. It was true, most people continued with light conversation as they ate except for the four men seated at the table nearest the stage. Not there for food with their hot looks and whistles between songs that had him grinding his teeth. And again, he wished for a closer seat.

Midway through the set, she glanced up and her eyes found his. He gave her a thumbs-up. The grateful smile she sent him knocked him in the chest and he fell, more than a little.

The singer-songwriter classics made him think of quiet nights and walks on the beach. Or maybe it was her voice. Or her. Or…Crazy, whatever it was, since he knew nothing of those things. Had never experienced them and hadn’t wanted to.

But watching Paige, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking what it would be like to steal her away somewhere. To take his time running his hands over all that smooth, pale skin. His hands, then his mouth.

His only relationship had been as a perpetually horny high school kid going all the way with his girlfriend whenever and wherever they could without getting caught. His ex-girlfriend, Rachel, was hot and cold, sexy as sin one second, spitting mean the next, and he’d been infatuated. The two of them together had been the epitome of teen love. Young, explosive, turbulent.

The football star and the cheerleader, king and queen of the prom. But he’d been a senior with dreams of the NFL while she’d been a junior, drawing hearts on her notebooks and trying out his last name.

It had been football, Rachel, school, in that order, meaning he put himself first. And then in seconds everything changed. Maybe God had felt the need to knock him down a few pegs. But then, it wasn’t God who’d glared at his girlfriend instead of the road or pressed the gas instead of the brake.

He straightened his leg under the table, the slight ache in his thigh reminding him he’d gotten exactly what he’d deserved.

Paige finished her set and went right back to serving, and damn it, her first order was for the table of drooling assholes. Paige ignored them, but he kept a close eye, hating how their eyes roamed her slender frame like she was on the damn menu.

She wasn’t his, but she sure as hell wasn’t theirs.

For the next thirty minutes he watched her work, their eyes meeting ever so often. He ordered a water, read and returned emails on his phone, and waited. And then waited some more.

She was off at ten. That was twenty minutes ago. The next time she passed his table, he reached out and caught her wrist. “You’re done,” he said, and without thinking, brushed his thumb over the soft skin there.

Her gaze fell to his hand, but she didn’t pull away. “You don’t have to wait.”

“It’s not the waiting that’s bothering me. It’s you working any longer than you already have.” She worked too hard. No telling how long she’d already worked today.

“Okay.” She swallowed, her blue eyes staring back at his. “Just let me close out.”

Minutes later, he felt like a winner as she walked out beside him and away from every other man in the room. Any man would feel like that with a woman like Paige at his side. Not a woman like her, but her.

“I can still take the bus, you know. Or I could walk. It’s not that far.”

Was she serious? “You’re not taking the bus. And you’re sure as hell not walking. Really, Paige, it’s no big deal.”

She sent him a quick grateful smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

They reached his truck and he opened the passenger door, offering his hand for a step up. She hesitated, and when she took it, he felt it tremble in his.