Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, so Paige returns her gaze to the cupboard. There’s a big bag of rice, a bag of oats, spaghetti noodles, tomato sauce, a few boxes of pancake mix, and a bottle of maple syrup. She picks up one of the boxes of pancake mix and checks the date. “We’re in luck. It’s not expired.”
“Pancakes for supper?” I ask.
She gives me a small smile even though I know she’s probably devastated. “That is literally my favorite dinner.”
Wanting to do anything I can to make her feel better, I say, “Okay, why don’t you have a seat and relax for a bit while I go see if there’s a hot water tank outside.”
I dig around in the drawer and find a box of matches, then go outside and walk to the back, where I find a shed that’s been built against the back of the house. In it, I find a hot water tank and a water filtration system, as well as some shelves with a few random items. I light the water tank, hoping it’ll heat up fast.
When I walk back inside, I find Paige bent over, plugging in the refrigerator. I tell myself not to gaze at her bottom, but my eyes aren’t taking orders right now. That is one nice ass. She stands and grips the chair, using it to prop her up while she hops over to the cupboard to get down a bowl.
I walk over and take the bowl from her. “How about I cook and you go shower? I turned on the hot water, so it should be ready in a few minutes.”
She gets a dreamy look on her face, then says. “You shower. I’ll cook. It’s the least I can do after you spent half the day carrying me.”
“I’m not going to go shower while you’re standing in front of the stove on that ankle. You need to rest it.”
Grinning up at me, she says, “You just can’t stand the smell of me.”
“Not at all, New York. You smell like daisies.”
“Liar. I reek.”
Moving a little closer to her, I say, “I’d still do you.”
Oh, crap. That was out of line, and the way her eyes are popping out of her head tells me she thinks so too. I need to fix this. Now. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
She shrugs and laughs a little. “Don’t worry about it. A girl could use a little ego boost every now and then.”
“I’m sure your ego gets boosted all the time.”
She blushes and looks down at the floor. “Not really.”
For some reason, I can’t stand the look on her face. It’s as if she thinks she’s somehow not good enough. “Well, that’s an even bigger crime than needing to lock your doors.”
I need to stop hitting on Paige. No gazing. No flirting. No touching her unnecessarily. No matter how much I want her. If I don’t stop, things are going to get very complicated, very fast. I managed to get the hell out of the house as soon as I said that thing about it being a crime that she doesn’t get hit on more often, using the excuse that I should go back to the plane for her luggage. By the time I got back, she was in the bathroom and I’m now trying to focus all my attention on measuring out pancake mix.
I hear the water turn on down the hall, and the fact that she’s naked on the other side of the wall pops into my mind. Blowing out a long puff of air, I force myself not to think about her soaping up her body. Instead, I vigorously mix up the pancake batter.
My mind should be on figuring out a way off this island, but at the moment, I have no desire to leave.Shit. I really must be losing it if I want to prolong my time with Ms. High-Maintenance-Five-Year-Plan.
That’s it. By the time she comes back out, I’m going to be all business. I need to put the brakes on whatever this stupid feeling is, or I’m not getting off this island without complicating the hell out of my life. I hunt around until I find some powdered iced tea mix and a couple of glassbeer steins. I mix up a glass for each of us, then set them on the table. Just as I’m flipping the last pancake, Paige comes out looking gorgeous, her wet hair falling around her shoulders. She’s dressed in a red tank top and some grey shorts. Her face is makeup free, and she looks fresh and lovely this way. She hops over to the table and sits down. Oh, crap. There’s that damn feeling again.Nip that in the bud, you idiot.
I lift the last pancake onto a plate and set it in front of her, then settle myself at the table across from her. “How was the shower?”
“Amazing,” she answers, that dreamy smile returning. “I hope whoever owns this place won’t mind that we’re using their things and eating their food.”
“I’m sure they’d understand.” I pour some syrup on my pancake, then hand it to her. “Here you go, Goldilocks.”
Now, why the hell did I say that? I’m flirting again.
She takes the jug, her face turning red to match her hair. “More like Orangylocks.”
I chuckle a little. “I don’t know, I’ve always been partial to gingers.”Dammit, stop that!
Paige blushes again as she pours syrup on her pancakes. “I don’t want to complain, but I much prefer real maple syrup to this imitation stuff.”
“What? No way. This is the real deal,” I answer. “And it costs a lot less.”
