“And I told you I didn’t want to talk,” she said through clenched teeth. Paige picked up two bags of groceries and set them right inside the door. Then she picked up another two, then another two.
He pointed at the bags. “See, I could’ve helped you with that.”
“I don’t need your help.” She set the last bag inside. “I’d like for you to just go.”
“Do you have a bottle of water?” he asked, as if she hadn’t even spoken.
She snickered. “You know who has bottles of water? The store. In town. Why don’t you go get one?”
Andrew cleared his throat, drawing her attention to him. She’d managed to pretty much avoid direct eye contact since she’d stepped outside, but now . . . he looked so large, so male. And hedidsmell good, like grapefruit and moss. Dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, he towered over her. His eyes were soft and focused on her. And she was . . .Oh God.
There was always something between them, more than an agent-client relationship, sometimes more than friends. But they’d never done anything about it.
“Paige?”
She blinked. “Bye, Andrew.” She practically ran inside the house and slammed the door. Again.
Chapter Five
“He won’t leave!” Paige whined, staring at the security camera feed of Andrew sitting quietly on her front porch.
“Really?” her mother said. “I knew he was a good one,” she mumbled.
“What did you say, Mom?”
“Oh, I was just saying . . . he’s a good friend. When did you tell him to leave?”
“Hours ago!”
In that time, he hadn’t moved off the porch. He’d alternated between sitting down, stretching, and pacing the length of the porch. But he never walked away, not even to his car. She turned off the screen and walked toward the front of the house.
Peeking out the window, she sighed. “What am I going to do?”
“Let him in. You said it’s been hours. He’s probably going to pee his pants. Stop torturing the man already.”
Paige considered what her mother said for a brief moment and immediately felt bad. He’d been sitting out there waiting to talk to her and she’d slammed the door in his face. Twice. What if he did have to use the restroom? What if he was really thirsty?
Turning away, she whispered, “I just need him to go.” She stomped to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. “But he won’t go. And it’s your fault.”
“How is it my fault for worrying about my only child? Paige, get it together, now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way.”
“I have a lot of reasons to be this way, Mom.”A lotof hurt,a lotof pain,a lotof mistakes,a lotof bad relationships. “I know you think he’s good and all, but he’s also part of the reason I’m here now.”
“Fine, I get it. He acted a like a sorry-ass fool. But he’s there now, he’s trying to make it better.”
Paige’s stomach roiled as guilt took over, replacing the anger that had been simmering for so long. She grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter and sliced it. Next, she cubed a block of cheddar cheese. She set the cheese and the fruit on a plate.
“I have to go, Mom.”
“Wait!”
“Bye, Mom.”
“Paige Ann Mills, don’t you hang up on me,” her mother yelled. “Are you going to let him in?”
“Bye, Mom,” Paige repeated. “Love you.”
After hanging up, she took the plate to the front door. With a heavy sigh, she called out, “Andrew?” Seconds later, he was standing in front of the glass door. She opened the door and held out the plate and the bottle of water. “I figured you might be thirsty—and hungry.”
