“No, Paige, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed.” I run my hands through my already messy hair. Shit, how do I get myself out of this? Taking my cue from her tendency to speak clearly, I opt for honesty. “Truthfully, I was a little embarrassed that you caught me looking at you.”
“Why?”
“Jesus, you don’t hold back, do you?” I know that’s also not the right response by the downturn of her eyes. “Sorry. Shit. I keep putting my foot in my mouth around you.”
“Did you know that saying originated from the early 1900s and is a play on the concept of having foot-and-mouth disease, which results in ulcers around your mouth and hands?”
This time I grin. “I did not know that, and now that I do, I don’t think I’ll ever use that saying again. Thanks for the education.” I wink at her so she knows I’m teasing. At least, I hope she picks up on that. The truth is, I’ve spent my life surrounded by women who care more about appearance and pretense than real life. Talking to someone who is so literal, so straightforward, is refreshing. And challenging.
Paige is still looking uncertain, about me or about herself, I’m not exactly sure. Either way, I hate that I’ve made her doubt herself in any way. I’m intrigued by her, far more than I should be, seeing as I’m not staying in town long. Not to mention, her beauty aside, she is wrong for me on so many levels. Paige screams long-term and commitment. And I don’t do either. By all rights, I should keep distance between us. But I don’t want to.
“I was looking at you because you’re beautiful.”
Her eyes narrow, and I shrug. “You asked.”
Paige looks down before lifting her gaze to me again.
“What brought you to Dogwood Cove, Wyatt?”
I’m not surprised she’s changing the subject; it doesn’t take a genius to realize Paige doesn’t love talking about herself. But of all the things she could say, that right there is the one question I didn’t want her to ask. I don’t want her to know who I am. Something tells me she might not be interested in talking with someone whose company has the ability — if not the desire — to shut a store like hers down. Not that we would, but I suspect Paige is someone who plays it safe. In business and in life. Thinking quickly, I answer with what I wish I was here to do, instead of the truth.
“I want to start up an outdoor tourism company, and this part of the island seemed like a good spot. My family used to come here a lot when I was younger.” There. That’s not a lie, not exactly.
She makes a noncommittal sound. I’m not sure what it means. “You should speak with my friend Summer. She runs the Oceanside Resort and could be a beneficial partner for you in your business.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that.” Fuck, this all feels forced and stilted. My normal charm is nonexistent around her. I guess some part of me knows it won’t have any effect. “So, aside from running a bookstore and walking other people’s dogs, what else do you enjoy doing?” God, I sound like a pathetic schmuck. But I’ll try anything to keep this woman talking to me for a little while longer. I find myself fascinated by her, even after only two short interactions, this one included.
“I…I read to children admitted to the hospital in Westport.”
My heart stutters at her quiet response. “That’s amazing.” But this conversation isn’t. Paige has a tough shell that is proving to be hard to crack. Me being me, that only makes me more determined to get her comfortable with me, somehow.
I never was one to shy away from a challenge. Yet, something tells me pushing her too far out of her comfort zone won’t work in my favour. Closing the trunk of my car, I shove my hands in my pockets. “Well. I need a shower.” Damn, did her eyes just flare wider? “Maybe I’ll see you around.” This time I know I’m not mistaken when I see her lick her lips.
Huh. Interesting.
I don’t bother checking my phone until I get home in an effort to delay my return to normal life as long as possible. But when I finally do, I see text messages waiting for me on my phone from Jacob, and from my dad. Opening Jacob’s first, I laugh at the photo. He’s got his arms around two very beautiful women and they’re all smiling at me.
JACOB: This is what you’re missing out on, man. Get your ass down to St Thomas.
My mind flashes to Paige. She’s more alluring to me than either of those two women, which surprises me. She’s a woman who undoubtedly requires a lot of work to get close to, which is the absolute opposite of my normal choice. Not one for commitment, I keep my relationships short and sweet, with the expectations clear from the outset. But I can’t deny there’s something about her that draws me in. Makes me curious to peel back the protective layers she’s covered herself with.
WYATT: Stop rubbing it in. I’ll see where things are at after the opening.
Can’t avoid it anymore, duty calls. I switch over to the message from my father.
DAD: I just spoke with Laurel. She said the catering is lined up for Saturday. The soft opening for staff and publishing houses is set for ten, then we open to the public at one. Are you ready on your end?
WYATT: Yes. I’ve been in contact with Laurel as well. We’ve got three reps from local publishers coming, and Laurel is working on lining up some authors to come for signings within the first few months as well. I think this one will go well.
DAD: Excellent. And how are you settling in, is everything okay at the house?
His switch to a personal question makes me pause. After Ryder’s death, Dad and I drifted apart. He knows I blame myself in some part for how everything ended for my brother, and I’ve always suspected he blames me, too. Not that he would ever come out and say it. Which makes it perfectly fine with me that we tend to keep our relationship focused on work. Making small talk with him over text messages is strange and unfamiliar.
WYATT: Everything’s fine.
DAD: Good. I’m glad you’re there. Have you considered your mother’s request to come home in November?
And there it is. The real reason for his ‘fatherly concern.’ He’s just looking out for my mom.
