Worth It All(54)
Chapter 17
It was a little after seven in the morning when JT went back to the bedroom to check on Sleeping Beauty and found her up and getting dressed. She was facing away from him, her panties already on and in the process of slipping into her blouse. He wanted to strip both of them off. “Hey.”
Her hands stilled, but she didn’t turn. “Want some breakfast?”
“I can’t,” she said, not moving, not turning around. “I’m…um…supposed to be at the diner at eight. I can’t be late. Where’s Casey?”
Her voice was scratchy, her words halting, and he stepped farther into the room. “She’s in the kitchen. Eating pancakes.”
“Thank you.”
Her back was still to him, but he could see the tension in her body, could practically feel it permeating the room.
“Paige. Look at me.”
“I can’t do that either.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t afford to let go any more than I already did.”
She’d taken a leap with him, stepped way off her imaginary line, and now she was scrambling back. She pulled up her shorts, her fingers furiously buttoning the very top button of her blouse, and he wondered if that was a mistake, her obvious nerves, or if she was subconsciously protecting herself.
She finally faced him and took her time meeting his gaze. Looking at her standing there, barefoot in his bedroom, hair tousled, lips berry red and looking well kissed, his heart pounded with each passing second. His skin felt tight, remembering all the ways he’d touched her, how their bodies had come together.
He hadn’t let more than a breath of space between them all night, and he didn’t want this space between them now. All he wanted to do was make love to her again, but she looked defeated, guilt-ridden. All the magic of the night before was gone. The carefree Paige was gone. “Do you regret it?”
Their eyes met and she looked incredibly young, innocent and uncertain. “Do you?”
No. He didn’t regret it. He regretted that she was leaving, that he couldn’t figure out how to say exactly what he was feeling. That a night with him had caused her more stress, had made the weight on her shoulders heavier instead of lighter.
She grabbed her shoes and made a dash for the door.
“Paige, wait. I don’t—”
“I have to go.” She moved to push past him, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“Paige.”
“Jake, I have to go. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Casey, honey, get your shoes. We’re late.”
“Look at Boulder! I syruped his nose.”
Paige didn’t look at Boulder before heading out to her car. He stood back while Paige got Casey settled in the back. He wondered about her car, the oil, the tires, suddenly remembering all the things his dad used to do for his mom and sister. He wanted to do that for Paige.
She closed the door and he waved goodbye to Casey, wondering what else he could say to make this better. She was already stressed. Telling her all he felt, all he wanted, would only add to it. “I’ll come by tonight.”
“I have class. And I have to study.”
Shit. “I’m sorry. I promised you—”
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I forgot. I was irresponsible.”
Because she’d done something for herself, or because she’d taken a chance with him, or both. He reached for her.
“Jake, I have to go. I can’t be late.” She covered her face with her hands then dropped them to her side. “I’m sorry.”
She looked on the verge of tears and it killed him not to kiss her, but she was already climbing behind the wheel, rushing, worrying.
This was a jumping-off point. He knew for most people it wouldn’t be, that one night in bed wouldn’t land them here, but this was Paige, and there was Casey and…His jaw tightened with the painful thought that maybe this shouldn’t happen. Maybe she did have too much going on and maybe there was no possible way he could be everything they needed.
What made him think he could be a father now when he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, before? He watched Paige drive away with Rachel’s words echoing in his head.
You don’t deserve a family.
Chapter 18
Later that night, Paige sat at her kitchen table with her thick textbook on the Roman Empire open in front of her. She’d put Casey to bed over an hour ago and so far she’d made eight flash cards and read the same page three times. But she’d made some really nice ink spirals while she daydreamed about Jake.
It was hard to concentrate on Caesar when her body was still throbbing in places that had never been touched. The words blurred and all she saw was Jake over her, spearing her with heated brown eyes. Or under her as she lay on top of him, kissing her way across his broad chest and shoulders. She could probably write a ten-pound textbook on the varied and extensive beauty of Jake McKinney. And he knew what to do with each and every part.