CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PAIGE
It was do or die time and all I wanted to do was crawl back into Beaux’s lap and ignore the reality I was facing.
With his crystal blue eyes on me, hair done and swept nicely to the side, and dressed in his suit, he was devastatingly sexy.
He must have come to me straight from the airport, and that thought shot a piercing pain to my chest.
Beaux was a great guy, and I was going to shove him away from me even though it was the last thing I wanted. I had to in order to preserve my own heart.
“You going to say anything,” Beaux asked, a beautiful smirk twisting his full lips. “Or are you going to keep staring at me?”
I wanted to keep staring, to memorize the hard line of his jaw, the perfect point of his top lip, the thick lashes that rimmed his eyes.
Instead, I sucked in a breath and let it all out. “I called to apologize. I was rude to you, again, and I don’t like that when you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”
“Nice?” Two perfect brows rose on his forehead. His tone went icy with the word and I tried to pull away.
He didn’t let me go. Instead, he shoved his arm to my lower back and pulled me so I was once again in his lap.
The forceful jerk of the swing made me cling to him.
“Well, yeah,” I said when I’d gathered my wits. It was difficult. He was too consuming. Too beautiful. Too effortlessly, genuinely kind. “And I enjoy the time we spent together, but nothing more with us can happen.”
It was the speech I’d research ad nauseam all afternoon.
“No?” His head tilted to the side. One corner of his lips hitched up. “You don’t think?”
I shook my head. Leave it to Beaux to find me ending things with him funny. “Well, yes, I do think. You’re busy right now, and I appreciate the nights I’ve had with you, Beaux, honestly, but I don’t have the time right now. Not with my dad needing extra help, the bills from the hospital are going to start pouring in and I’m going to have to pick up extra shifts. I have too many responsibilities to consider a relationship with you.”
By the time I was done talking, he was full on grinning. His hand was at the side of my neck, thumb brushing beneath my jaw.
I fought a tremble at his gentle, intimate touch, and failed.
“Beaux—” my tone lacked the warning I intended.
“All I just heard was that you appreciate me, enjoyed our time together, and I’m a nice guy.”
I frowned. “And?”
“And nowhere in that list did you list the reason that you don’t like me or don’t want to be with me.”
I couldn’t say those things. Not directly to him. I wasn’t a liar by nature, but he wasn’t understanding me, either.
“I don’t have the time.”
“And I don’t give a shit. We’ll make the time. We’ll figure it out, but if you’re not pushing me away because you think I’m an asshole or you’re not attracted to me — and don’t even think about lying and saying you aren’t because I still remember the way you lit up for me last week — then you’re not ending this, and you’re definitely not going to do it using your father as an excuse.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” His hand on my neck tightened. His humor evaporated until I felt the icy chill of his serious gaze. Good Lord, this must have been his game face. If I saw him on the field looking this intense, I’d pee my pants. “And I’m not letting you. More so, I bet if I went in and told Sam, he won’t let you use him as an excuse, either.”
My hackles rose. The stupid, bossy man. “Maybe neither of you have a say in it, either. It’s my life and mine to choose to live how I want.”
“Yeah?” he challenged. “Then when are you going to start living it?”
His question was a slap to the face and anger from his accusation simmered in my veins. “Beaux—”
This time my warning was exactly as I intended but he interrupted me.
“So, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to let someone step up and help you out. You got me, the team, Mike, and the guys at the garage. You have neighbors that will help him out. You’re going to take some time off the restaurant so you can be with your dad at night, and then, you’re going to trust me to take care of the rest.”
I shook my head. He couldn’t step in and do this. “I can’t not work, Beaux.”
“Trust me.” His hands framed my cheeks, holding me steady. “I want to help you, Paige. Just let me.”
“Why? Why would you do that?” No one else ever had and I’d known this guy for mere weeks.
“Because,” his grin went wicked again, “I like you, and I’m not afraid to say it. I didn’t just enjoy our time together, I fucking loved it. I want more of it. And if you’re ending things because we don’t have a lot of time, that’s not a good reason for me to stop seeing where this could go between us.”
I fought the urge to melt against him. Breaking it off with him was the right thing to do.
Listening to him felt better.
I slid my hand to his chest and up to his shoulder. His muscles tensed beneath the jacket of his suit. The man was pretty hard to say no to, especially when saying yes sounded like so much more fun.
I brushed my fingers over the knot of his loosened black tie and tugged. “You know, you’re making it very hard to break things off with you.”
He tipped my chin up until our gazes met. Narrowed blue eyes hit me with the force of hurricane right before he leaned in closer. “Then don’t.”
His lips brushed against mine; stealing all my rehearsed arguments. God help me if I was becoming a mushy little girl who wanted a man to take care of her, but the hope of such a promise was too large to ignore. He kissed me again and I was gone, lost in him, the hardness of his body, the strength of his soul, the scent of his cologne and the taste of his mouth.
“Okay,” I whispered, brushing my lips against his.
I could kiss him until the sun rose and not regret a single moment of lost sleep.
“Good. Now stop fighting me, let me fucking help you, and kiss me again.”
I complied instantly. I surrendered to my desire to lean on him and melt into him and I shifted my body until our chests aligned. I reveled in the feel of his heart beating against my chest, the calluses on his palm scraping my cheeks, the warmth of his lips as we kissed for minutes, hours.
“Come on,” Beaux said, and he grabbed my backside, hefting me to his hips as he stood. “I’m fucking wiped.”
My eyes popped open. “You can’t stay here.”
“Thought you weren’t going to fight me anymore.” He kissed my nose and walked toward my front door.
“But, my dad, and … us… and you…” I’d never brought a man home, not overnight anyway. I was pretty certain my dad would be the kind of guy to sleep with a shotgun next to him and one eye open if I did.
I explained it to Beaux as he had his hand on the doorknob. “Trust me, Paige. He’s not going to shoot me, and I’m not going to disrespect the guy in his own home, anyway.”
“Oh.” It made sense. I couldn’t stop the spring of disappointment. Beaux must have caught it in my tone because he kissed me again as he pulled open the door.
“Nice to know you wanted it, though.”
“I didn’t.”
“Sure.”
“You’re pretty irritating when you don’t listen to me.”
“I think you love it.”
Crazy thing was, I was beginning to think the same thing.
He set me on my feet once we were inside. “I’ve got a bag in the truck I’m going to go grab. Do what you need to do while I’m gone, okay?”
“Sure, Beaux.”
“You’re pretty beautiful when you listen to me.”
“Irritating,” I hissed, mindful my dad was lightly snoring from his spot on the recliner just down the hall and around the corner.
“Lovely.” He winked and kissed my nose before sauntering out to his truck.
While he was gone, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a couple more pain pills and a fresh glass of water. After setting them on his side table, I rearranged the blanket and gently pressed my hand to his forehead.
He was warm, but not hot. He’d slept off and on the entire day, but hadn’t once complained about the pain in his leg. It would come though, and then my failing dad would act like it was nothing.
All to protect me.
I sighed as I kissed his cheek and whispered my good night to him. He didn’t twitch a single muscle and his breathing never faltered. The pain pills knocked him out cold.
It was then I knew Beaux was absolutely right.
It killed my dad I’d given up so much for him. He hated that he’d become my main focus. Reality was, there would come a day and he wouldn’t be here.
Down to the depths of my soul, I knew the only thing that would make him disappointed in me was if I lived a life that was only half alive, not taking hold of every opportunity thrown my way.
It would kill him quicker if I became something less than what he always wanted for me. Considering there was a guy nearby who could possibly help make my life happier, a little bit easier, Dad would want me to reach for it, hold it and grab onto it with both hands and never let go.
“I’ll do better, Dad. I promise.” I brushed a finger down his arm, reassured he was sleeping soundly and as pain-free as possible. I hurried back to the front door, reaching it the same time Beaux returned with a small black bag in his hand.
***
I woke up the next morning to the obnoxious beeping of my phone’s alarm and reached over, tapping the snooze button.
Stretching, I blinked the sleep from my eyes and catalogued a list as long as my arm of everything I needed to accomplish that day. Call me obsessive, but I enjoyed beginning my day making a to-do list. It woke me up, got me moving even if most days I wanted to curl back into the covers.
It wasn’t until I was on point five of my list—call a nursing agency for my dad for daytime help—an errant thought ran through my mind.
Last night, Beaux had shown up at my house and hadn’t left.
“What the heck?” I whispered and rolled to my side. On the opposite side of the bed, the sheets were a mess, thrown back and clearly showing someone had already climbed out of them.
When we’d come upstairs last night, we’d taken turns using the hall bathroom. When it was Beaux’s turn, I’d thrown on an old college T-shirt and a pair of yoga shorts, sleeping in way more than I usually did but I wasn’t giving Beaux any ideas, not with my dad directly below us, despite what Beaux had promised.
We’d climbed into bed, he’d curled me into his side and we’d talked about his game and all the traveling he did. Eventually both of us had drifted off to sleep.
It’d been sweet. Absolutely perfect. The best night I’d spent with a guy in a bed in a long time and that was pretty miraculous considering we hadn’t even made out.
But he hadn’t stayed.
My heart dropped in my stomach and I sat up, clenching the covers to my chest. I scanned the room looking for any sign of his presence, but the black bag Beaux had brought in and set inside the door to my bedroom was also gone. So was his suit.
Disappointment ate at me and I brushed back my hair, letting it fall to my neck, thinking. He had practice that day, I knew that, but he hadn’t mentioned having to leave early, and my alarm was set for six o’clock exactly. The sun was barely rising and he’d disappeared in the night.
“Awesome,” I muttered, and threw off the covers.
I needed a shower, get dressed, and a carafe full of coffee before heading into the garage. Hustling through my bedroom, I grabbed all the clothes I’d need and then took a quick shower. The whole time I was getting ready, which didn’t take long since I wore minimal makeup and didn’t bother blow drying my hair when I went to the garage, I hoped for the best.
Perhaps I’d missed a text. Or a note.
He’d call me later, I was certain of it. No guy would put in the effort Beaux had done for me, made the promises he’d made last night, and rip them away.
“He’s not Spencer,” I assured myself.
So far, Beaux had proven he was the exact opposite. And if I wasn’t going to end things with him, if I was going to let him in, then I also had to start trusting him.
He’d shown me he was worth it.
I clipped my bangs back at my temple like I usually did and gave myself another perusal in the mirror.
When I was done, I tossed everything onto my bedroom floor. I wasn’t messy, not a neat freak. I cleaned my room between shifts at the garage and the restaurant, the only time I had a few free hours and on my days off from the restaurant, and I cleaned the whole house. Not that it got that dirty with just dad and I, but I’d done it ever since I was old enough to use cleaning supplies.
My dad never noticed dust and clutter and toothpaste gobs on the counter. When I became a teenager and heard my friends talk about their brothers, I became certain those kinds of oversights were ingrained in male DNA.
But my mood didn’t change through my morning routine. I sucked in a breath, trying to put on a happy face as I hurried down the stairs to take care of my dad and make sure he had everything he needed before I left for work.
Only I didn’t get as far as the kitchen because at the bottom of the stairs, I froze.
Beaux was sitting on the couch, facing my dad, coffee cup in both men’s hands and they were talking quietly, nodding and smiling. For the first time since my dad’s injury, he didn’t have a glassy look in his eyes from either the pain or the pills to take it away.
The black bag was next to the couch, suit draped over the armrest, and he was casually sitting there in gray athletic shorts and a black shirt that stretched so tight over his muscles and chest, the seams were in danger of popping.
Beaux had stayed, and from the looks of it, he’d taken care of my dad. He was dressed in different clothes, his face looked washed up, hair combed, and he was sipping coffee from his favorite mug.
I really needed to stop underestimating Beaux Hale.
A warmth flickered through me and I shivered. This guy. Everything he was showing me was too good to be true but absolutely perfect.
“Good morning,” I said, my gaze flipping back and forth to them when neither noticed me.
“Hey,” Beaux said, standing from the couch and headed my way. “How’d you sleep?”
I glanced at my dad who was now intently staring into his coffee. “Um. Good.”
Beaux walked up to me, smiling. “I didn’t want to wake you. I don’t sleep much after game nights.”
My cheeks burned. Good grief, was this what teenage girls felt like when they brought boyfriends home? It’d been so long I couldn’t remember. Everything he said made me more embarrassed. “Uh. Thanks.”
He chuckled again as if he understood. In addition to being a superstar quarterback, the man had to be telepathic.
He took my hand and pulled me toward the kitchen. “I made coffee this morning too, but your dad tells me it sucks.”
“Too freaking weak. You young’uns. You’re all weak. Weak coffee, weak running, weak tackling—”
“Easy tiger,” Beaux said. “I’ve already heard your opinions on last night’s game. Keep critiquing and I might begin to take it personally.”
“See?” my dad called, but his voice was thick with humor. “You’re all weak today.”
I was laughing by the time I reached the kitchen. “You didn’t have to come with me.”
“I did if I wanted to kiss you.”
His lips hit mine and my ass hit the counter behind me before I could blink. Heaven. His body surrounded mine and he took over, took what he wanted, and I was so damn grateful he’d helped my dad I could have cried tears of joy.
I threw all my thanks into that kiss and when Beaux pulled back, his gaze flickering between my eyes, I could barely breathe.
“Good morning,” he murmured, sliding his fingers through my still wet hair. “I really like the way you look when you’re sleeping.”
I looked at his shoulder, more embarrassed. “Beaux—”
“Coffee first. We got a lot to talk about today and I’ve already got most of it done, so you need to catch up.”
That sounded ominous. “What did you do?”
“Coffee. Your dad says you can’t count to two in the morning before your first cup you’re so out of it.”
“Lovely,” I muttered, but I couldn’t argue. More than one roommate and boyfriend had called me a zombie over the years.
And since his words left me nervous, fortification in caffeinated form was definitely necessary.