He’d just been with the most beautiful woman on the planet and his mind was already getting far too ahead of itself. He wasn’t just thinking about how he could convince her to skip work once the sun came up in three hours; he was making plans for that day, the next day, and however many days he could continue to fool her into thinking he was worth her time.
He lay on his side, afraid to sleep, knowing this chance may not present itself again. Also, he was a chronic snorer, and she certainly didn’t need any more reasons not to repeat their night together. He forced the quietest breath possible and dared to touch her cheek, brushing several strands of blond hair from her face.
The fact that they shared a common tragic past—both the victims of hate—gave them a bond he knew she felt as well. The thin, pink lines stretching around her neck and shoulder, visible above the edge of the bedsheet draped over her, made his heart hurt. The idea that someone could do something so terrible to someone else—over their beauty, no less—was something he couldn’t comprehend. And how Paige couldn’t see how perfect she still was, was unfathomable.
Though it was a feeling he knew. The loss of his sight and the scars on his body had left him with a diminished sense of identity for a long time. His confidence had been shattered, and his sarcasm and humor had become a shield.
With her, he didn’t feel the need for it anymore. The thought made it difficult to breathe. He wouldn’t destroy this second chance she was giving him.
* * *
The smell of coffee and bacon made it impossible to sleep. Slowly opening one eye, Paige held her breath as she scanned the room and the empty bed next to her. She was alone in the tangled sheets.
Well, breakfast didn’t normally cook itself.
Sitting up, she felt her cheeks grow hot, seeing her clothes scattered around Owen’s room. It hadn’t been easy for her, but somehow she’d managed to end up completely naked.
Then amazingly, things had gotten so much easier.
She’d never imagined that she’d be able to feel comfortable, confident, and sexy in her damaged skin, but he’d made her feel better about her body than anyone ever had, even when she’d thought herself flawless.
She liked Owen a lot more than she should, after having known him for only a few weeks. It felt as though she’d known him much longer. He had so many different sides—his funny, self-deprecating side; his caring, fun-loving Bernie side; and his intense, passionate, tender side he’d revealed the night before. She swallowed hard. She had never imagined she could let someone get this close again.
Hearing him in the kitchen, she quickly swung her legs over the side of the bed and grabbed her underwear from the floor. Standing, she pulled them on and retrieved her bra from the lamp shade. Then, pulling on her blouse, she buttoned it to the top and put on her capris. Going to the mirrored closet doors, she checked her appearance and smoothed her hair into a low ponytail, using an elastic band she found on his dresser.
Picking up her heels, she carried them down the hall. Where had she left her purse? She wasn’t confident about the time, as it seemed Owen didn’t believe in clocks, but she knew she was late for work. Isabelle must be looking for her. She was certain she had a full schedule that day, more meetings with hospital executives and the manufacturers of the new equipment they were ordering in the fall…Finding the purse in the hallway near the door, she retrieved her phone and read a new text from her mother.
Wherever you are, stay there (as long as you’re safe, of course). I’ve cleared your schedule for today.
Her mouth gaped.
Then her eyes widened at the time of the text: 10:06! It was after ten o’clock. Oh shit.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you get up.” Owen’s voice behind her made her turn.
“Hi,” she said awkwardly. “Sorry, I overslept.”
“I was planning on crawling back in bed with food,” he said, walking toward her. His messed-up hair and sleepy expression combined with his bare chest and oblique muscles disappearing into his jeans was the best thing she’d ever woken up to. The smell of food may just be making this whole experience an out-of-body one, but she refused to let her guard down too quick…on her heart at least. It was too late for her body, but she didn’t regret a second of the night before. For the first time in years, she felt satisfied, refreshed, relaxed.
And also a little freaked out.
He kissed her forehead and took her hand. “Hungry?”
“Yes…but I should hurry. I have to get to the office.”
“You’re not a good liar.”
“How do you know I’m lying?”
He winked. “You just told me.”
She sighed. “Well, actually, my schedule for today has been cleared.” She was going to have to have that talk with her mother again about blurring the lines, but she couldn’t exactly say she was disappointed that her mother had overstepped the boundaries between professional and personal relationship. The idea of staying with Owen terrified her a little, but the idea of leaving him didn’t appeal to her at all. Which also terrified her a little.
Were relationships supposed to be this terrifying?
“Great. Well, my day is packed, so as soon as you eat, I need you out of here.”
Her eyes narrowed as she swiped at him. “You’re not funny.”
“How do you know I was kidding?”
“You just told me,” she said sticking her tongue out as he pulled out a chair at his bar-style table for her to climb onto.
He pushed the chair in, then reached around her, unbuttoning the top button on her blouse. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he bent to kiss her neck.
She swallowed hard, fighting her instincts to cover up. He’d seen everything anyway. And somehow the scars held less power with his lips against them. It was as though he were reaching her invisible interior ones with his healing touch through the ones she wore on the outside.
“I was definitely kidding,” he whispered against her ear as he continued to caress her neck. “Even if I weren’t, I would give up anything to spend the day with you.” He massaged her shoulders briefly and then reluctantly moved away to sit across from her.
As he uncovered plates of bacon, eggs, and toast, she took a sip of her coffee, staring longingly at the food.
“Please tell me you eat,” he said, filling his own plate.
One of the perks of her modeling career being over was not having to be on an endless diet. She nodded, reaching for the bacon. “Yes, I do.” As she set the plate back down, she noticed a letter on the table.
Nomination acceptance for the Mascot Hall of Fame? She didn’t even know there was such a thing. “Bernie was nominated for this?” She smiled, pointing to the letter.
Owen nodded. “Westmore thought it would be funny.”
“You two been frenemies for long?” she teased, buttering a slice of toast.
He laughed. “As schoolgirlish as it sounds, I think frenemies is the perfect way to describe our relationship. Mostly we are good friends, but it’s not easy being around all of you beautiful people,” he said.
She dropped her gaze. She didn’t belong in that club anymore.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No…I just…”
“Don’t believe you’re still as beautiful as when you had a modeling contract?”
Her gaze shot up.
“Again, Westmore.”
She sighed. She’d Googled him; she should have known he’d have checked her out as well. Though, by using her mother’s maiden name for her career, she’d hoped to maintain a little of her privacy. But apparently, nothing escaped the Internet.
It didn’t matter. Even if Ben hadn’t discovered who she’d been in a past life and told Owen, she would have eventually, but she wondered how much it affected his feelings toward her. She’d had her share of jerks thinking they were hot shit just because they were dating a model. It hadn’t been about her at all.
Owen wasn’t that guy. She knew that. Still…“It’s tough to have your identity ripped away,” she said quietly, hating to admit that so much of her self-worth had been placed on her appearance.
He reached across the table and took her hand. “You are amazingly beautiful. I don’t know how to tell you that enough.”
“I’m not looking for an ego boost.” With him, she didn’t need it. He made her feel special just by looking at her, listening to her, appreciating her. How he made her feel was dangerous. It was addicting.
“Besides, all the surgeries are helping, right? I mean, the scarring gets better each time, doesn’t it?”
The hopefulness in his voice made her heart take a dive straight to her stomach. Is that what he thought? That someday her skin would be as perfectly silky as it had once been? After countless more surgeries, she’d be good as new?
She pulled her hand away and toyed with the rim of the coffee cup, her disappointment threatening to strangle any response. She swallowed hard. “No. The last two surgeries didn’t improve the skin’s condition at all. The skin graft didn’t take on my neck and shoulders.” She paused, taking a breath. “I’m done with the surgeries.” It was the first time she’d said the words aloud and she found relief in it. She’d made the decision somewhere in her latest disappointment, and she was certain of it. She was done striving for a perfection that was no longer within her reach. It was time to learn to accept herself the way she was. Last night had felt like a step in that direction, but now…
“Good,” Owen said.
“Good?”
“Not ‘good’ that the surgeries haven’t helped. I’m sure that must be disappointing, but I suspect the repeated surgeries are stressful, so good for you that you’ve decided to be done with them.”
She nodded. “Right, but if you were hoping…”
He stopped her by standing abruptly and coming to her side of the table. “I’m just hoping for a chance to prove to you that I’m for real, that these growing feelings are real…” He took her hands and kissed both.
“Owen, I’ll never be that flawless model again,” she whispered, as he pulled her into his chest. His strong arms wrapping around her were almost enough to make her believe that was okay, that who she was now was enough. “I’m not that woman anymore.”
His embrace tightened. “That’s okay, because I’m falling in love with this one right here in my arms.”
Her body stiffened at the words. Falling in love? Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed away from him slowly. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself again,” she said.
He shrugged. “Maybe. But all I know is that from the moment I saw you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the possibility of being with you. I know I’m odd, and my career involves dressing like a dog and acting like an idiot, but there’s no one I want to make smile more than you. I know I’m not good at this dating thing. Hell, I messed the first one up and I’m practically confessing my love on the second one, but Paige, I can’t help how I feel.”
He kissed her forehead, and beneath his lips, her mind was in conflict with her heart. She liked him…a lot. He was the first person she’d been able to be comfortable with, put her trust in in a long time…but was that love? She was attracted to him, but she felt as though he’d walked in on a new chapter of healing for her, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to forge ahead any faster than she already had. She needed time to adjust, to process…she certainly wasn’t ready to fall in love just yet.
“Owen…this is all too much.” She moved away from him and reached for her purse. Her appetite had vanished, and she needed to put some space between them. Her emotions clouded her judgment when he was this close, this accepting, this open.
“You’re leaving?” Disappointment reflected in his dark eyes, and she almost dove back into his arms. But he was so sure, so certain of his feelings for her, and she didn’t know yet. She didn’t want to hurt him…though it looked as though she already had.
“I think I should.”
“Why?”
“I just need to make sure I’m where you are…or at least heading in that direction.”
“Ouch.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pocket.
“I’m sorry, Owen.” She touched his forearm. All of a sudden, she was desperate for his touch, but for the first time, he kept his hands away from her.
“It’s fine.” He paused and took a breath. “You need time. I promised you last night that this was all at your pace.” His gaze locked with hers, and the searching she saw in it made her want to tell him what he wanted to hear, but she couldn’t. It made her want to stay, but she couldn’t.
His expression softened as he reached out and touched her cheek. “Don’t worry. I meant what I said about waiting and how I feel. I hope that means something.”
It did mean something. It meant she couldn’t rush her feelings and end up hurting a man she could very easily fall in love with.