Paige truly believed there was nothing wrong with what she felt for him. Nothing sinful. Not when Whitney had thrown away her claim to Evan with the first lie she'd told--and all the lies after that. If only he'd see things the same way. Paige hoped he would one day soon. Maybe even tonight?
"Have you eaten?" There was so much they needed to talk about, but she wanted to give him a few minutes to settle in first. Especially after his long drive to and from Modesto. "I'm planning a stir fry."
"Actually--" With his hands shoved in his pockets, she could almost believe he was nervous. "--I'd like to take you out."
"Out?" Would this be a date? Or was she mistakenly attaching the label she wanted to what was, for him, nothing more than an impromptu dinner invitation?
He swallowed, gestured off toward the main drag of Menlo Park. "There's a great place just around the corner. The Grand Pacific. I know how much you love Pan-Asian food."
"I've always wanted to eat there." The Grand Pacific's menu wasn't just legendary, its prices were too. What's more, Whitney hated Chinese food, so they'd never been there as a group.
Yet again, Paige was amazed to realize he'd actually been paying attention to her all these years. To the flowers she preferred. To her favorite kind of food. And to the fact that she loved to try new places and things.
What else had he noticed?
"I'd love to. Just let me grab a sweater."
They could have driven. It was still early for dinner, and there were a few parking spots available as they approached downtown. But she enjoyed the walk, her shoulder brushing his occasionally, the backs of their hands bumping, his clean, masculine scent teasing her. The restaurant was full, but for Evan, an empty table magically appeared. A romantic spot in a candlelit corner.
Despite telling herself not to read too much into it, Paige's heart beat a little faster.
Everything on the menu looked amazing. They ordered salmon and avocado rolls dipped in wasabi, followed by a dumpling soup, then dishes with duck, filet mignon, and sea scallops, each prepared in divine sauces using ingredients like tamarind and coconut milk. They'd never eat it all, but she was dying to try every bite. A couple of glasses of Sullivan Cabernet complemented the food perfectly.
"So tell me," she said after the waiter left. "What happened with the boyfriend?"
"I told him not show his face again. Then I called the cops to have them do some drive-bys at Theresa's." He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it didn't mean much to him.
But she knew it did. And it was obvious she'd have to pull the details out of him. "Did he put up any sort of fight?"
"He asked for money." When she made a sound of disgust, he shook his head and said, "It could have been a bluff. A way to test my resolve. Who the hell knows? Just like an abusive, out-of-control drunk, he said he was sorry and it would never happen again."
"That's not what your father used to say, is it?" Though she was poking a raw nerve here, she wouldn't be timid with him. After all these years of holding her truest feelings, her most real emotions inside, she couldn't do it anymore. Not even when it came to his mother. "He never said he was sorry. Never said it wouldn't happen again."
Evan stared at the wine glasses the waiter had swooped in and deposited on the table. "You're right. We always knew it would happen again when he got mad or drunk. When he didn't have any reason at all, actually."
Abuse occurred at all socioeconomic levels, in all neighborhoods, even in Paige's neighborhood. It was committed by men, women, sometimes even teenagers. She'd heard the same tale so many times. She'd talked with abusers as well as the abused. She understood frustration and pain and anger and hopelessness and the need to lash out, yet there was always a part of her that absolutely could not fathom how anyone could ever strike a child. Or hit someone weaker and incapable of defending themselves.
But knowing Evan had been that child? It tore her up inside.
"How did you feel? Confronting him. Protecting your m--" She quickly changed the word to, "Theresa."
"In a way," he said slowly, "telling the asshole boyfriend to lay off was like telling my dad what I thought of him."
"That had to feel good."
"You know what?" His brow creased, and he looked pensively at the utensils in front of him on the table. Then he cocked his head slightly, his gaze rising to hers as a surprised smile took over his face. "It actually did feel good. Damn good."
It was a huge step for him. A ghost he could begin to lay to rest. She sensed the infinitesimal lifting of something dark off his shoulders, saw it leaving his eyes, making them a little brighter. Even when he clearly thought the safest thing was to keep his distance from his mother, he'd obviously found it impossible to stay away. Because he was a born protector.
She wanted to risk touching him, but didn't. Not yet. Not until she could believe he wouldn't beat himself up for his reaction to her. For wanting her the way she wanted him. As much as he would deny it if she asked him outright, it seemed that he was finding it impossible to stay away from her too.
"I'm so glad, Evan."
"I am too. It's good to have that duty out of the way."
"Duty?" The word bothered her. Was she seeing only what she wanted to see--healing that hadn't actually happened?
"I've done what I can for Theresa."
"What are you saying?" The waiter brought the salmon rolls and soup, and she waited until he'd left to add, "Now that you've dealt with her boyfriend, you don't want to see them again?"
Evan concentrated on the food. "I just mean that I've done what Tony and Kelsey wanted."
How could he not see that what they wanted most of all was to get to know their brother?
Before she could point that out, he told her, "They're good people. Responsible. Hardworking. I thought I could introduce Tony to Matt, since they're both into automation." He dipped a roll in the wasabi. "Kelsey might be interested in touring my headquarters."
He wanted contact. Future contact via businesses that meant so much to him. It was a monumental sign. One that made her heart swell with optimism for him and his family.
"It would be nice to invite them over again."
He shrugged to downplay the idea. "Maybe."
But she could see how much he wanted to. His desire was in the slight upturn of his lips, the overly casual tone of voice, the almost boyish way he talked of his brother and sister.
He loved the Mavericks, and Susan and Bob, but the twins were his.
She decided to go for the toughest issue. "You could invite Theresa too." She was careful not to say your mom.
He spooned soup into his mouth, probably so he didn't have to answer. But she didn't offer a single word once he'd swallowed, and he was forced to say, "They probably wouldn't come without her."
"Probably not." She let the thought hang a moment. "It would be good for you both if you could reach some sort of--" She searched for the most innocuous word. "--balance with her."
"I don't know if balance is even possible. She runs away because of all the crap my father did. Then she ends up with a sleazebag who's pulling the same kind of stuff." The set of his jaw said how much that pissed him off.
"People sometimes fall into a pattern. They don't always realize it until it's too late. But she did tell us she wanted to try."
He set his spoon down, put his elbows on the table, and looked at her over his laced fingers. "I don't trust her not to find another sleazebag even worse than this one. And I'm also not sure I trust her to slam the door in Greg's face if he comes back begging for another chance."
"I've seen it happen with a few of my patients."
"So you get my point."
"Yes." But this was about more than just his mother. It was about Whitney too, the damage she'd done. His mother and his wife had both betrayed him, committing horrendous acts against him. So he was no longer willing to trust. Not even Paige. Maybe because he saw her as just another woman wanting something from him. Whitney wanted his money, his contact
s. Theresa wanted his forgiveness.
And Paige wanted the biggest thing anyone could ask for.
His love.
Chapter Eighteen
"Thank you for dinner," Paige said as they strolled back to her place. It was full dark now, and despite the fact that it had been a relatively warm day for January, the night had a definite chill. "It was even better than I imagined."
"It was my pleasure."
And it was true. Paige had asked tough questions and made him think about stuff he'd rather forget, but he liked that she wasn't afraid to challenge him. He liked that she cared enough to take the risk of pushing him past his comfort zone. He liked how comfortable it felt to walk beside her, even when they didn't say much at all. He liked her smile, her fragrance, the color of her eyes.
He couldn't think of a single thing he didn't like about her. Apart from her relation to his soon-to-be ex-wife, that was.
Noticing when she tucked her hands into the sleeves of her sweater, he asked, "Are you cold?"
"A little."
He reached out to touch her fingertips. "You're freezing." Stopping, he slid both her hands between his palms and rubbed them for warmth.
Her chocolate eyes seemed to grow darker. "That feels nice." Her voice was low and husky. "Really nice."
Despite the danger that touching her posed to his self-control, he didn't let go of her hand as they started walking again.
He couldn't help but relish the feel of her so close to him, the sound of her voice as they small-talked about nothing earth-shattering or deep, the kinds of things they wouldn't even remember the next day. But he knew he would recall the peacefulness of it, even in the midst of the sparks that kept shooting off between them.
All too soon, they were back at her condo. He wasn't done yet. He wanted more. Being with Paige was so good. So right, despite everything.
She turned at her door and let go of his hand to take out her key and put it in the lock. She smiled at him. "Thank you again for dinner."
He wanted to beg her to let him in. Wanted to beg her to let him love her. Tonight. Tomorrow.
Forever.
Working to shake off the crazy thoughts, he said, "Good night," then forced himself to back up.
"Good night," she said, fluttering her fingers at him. The fingers he'd held in his. He couldn't take his eyes off her mouth, the lips he'd kissed.
What the hell would Susan think if she knew he was lusting after his sister-in-law when he'd split from Whitney only a month ago?
He turned, thinking it would be easier to leave if he couldn't see her anymore.
But nothing was easy about leaving her behind.
"Paige."
He reached for her, dragging her into his arms. Her lips opened under his, and he sank into her.
She was spicy and hot. Sexy and warm.
Perfect.
Their tongues met, toyed. He lost himself in her taste, her scent, the sensual feel of her in his arms. The kiss consumed him until he was completely lost in sensation. She'd been cold before, but now her hands were hot on him, sliding along the collar of his jacket, into his hair, holding his face close so that the kiss went deeper still.
There was no doubt. He wanted Paige.
Now.
Craziness didn't matter.
Right and wrong flew off into the night.
There was just her mouth beneath his, her body pressed so tightly against him that they were almost one.
"Come inside," she whispered when she backed off to drag in air.
There was nothing he wanted more. Go inside. Strip off her clothes. And love her until neither of them could remember why they shouldn't be naked and tangled together.
But her question, the sudden loss of contact, brought him back to who they were. To the night. To reality.
If he went inside with her, he would have her, probably right there on the floor of her living room.
And there would be no going back for either of them.
He couldn't do that to her. Couldn't take her without giving her anything but his body. It would destroy them.
Because whatever she wanted from him, he simply didn't have it in him to give. He was coming down off a bad marriage. And Whitney--her sister would punish Paige mercilessly.
Yet it still killed him to say, "I shouldn't." But Lord, how he wanted to.
"Why? You keep saying it's wrong, but it's not. We need to talk about this, Evan. What happened in the library. And the way you kissed me just now."
She'd promised him that discussion when they spoke earlier. He thought he'd avoided it with all the talk about Greg and Theresa and his feelings, which was bad enough. He should have known that wouldn't satisfy Paige. And he owed her more. He recognized that. An explanation. A reason. All the damn good reasons he'd been telling himself since he'd first kissed her.
He wanted to repay her for all her goodness, her kindness, all she'd done for him time and again. Staying away from her would be the best way to do that, wouldn't it? It could be the only way to protect her. From him. And from Whitney's wrath.
"I'm married to your sister," It was the easiest answer.
"And you're getting divorced because she treated you horribly," she reminded him. Just as he'd known she would, because Paige always saw right through the easy answers. Straight to the honest ones. "Tell me the real reason why."
So many reasons. Too many. Because he didn't deserve to be with her now after he'd been so stupid as to let Whitney turn his head nine years ago. Because risking his heart again seemed impossible when it was so badly bruised and battered. Because Paige deserved more than a man with such a complicated past and present.
And Paige would shoot down every one of them, because she didn't understand how irreversibly damaged he was.
All he could get out was, "It's just not possible."
She gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes tracking his face. Her lips were still wet and lush from his kiss. Slowly, she stepped back, leaving him feeling frozen all the way to his heart.
"Anything's possible, Evan. You just have to be willing."
Then she walked inside and shut the door behind her.
*
Paige sagged against the closed door, dropping her head into her hands.
She'd practically begged him to come in, to make love to her.
But he couldn't see past the other women in his life. Or the darkness that still haunted him.
Her phone rang, and when she dug it out of her purse, she saw that it was Whitney again.
It was just like her sister to choose the absolute perfect--or worst--moment to call. Frustrated, and angry, Paige swiped the call away. She would not let Whitney destroy the beautiful, hot memory of being in Evan's arms. It didn't matter that his almost ex-wife was her sister. Sure, it might be slightly awkward when they explained things to people. But it didn't matter, damn it! Whitney had given up her rights to him when she'd demolished him.
Paige put her hands to her cheeks. They were burning, and her lips were still tingling from his kiss.
Evan wanted her. She had no more doubts about that. If the door had been unlocked and she'd pulled him inside, they would have made love.
Only, instead of doing that, she'd stopped. Asked. Let him overthink and beat himself up for all the "wrong" things he thought he was doing. She'd let him walk away.
If he could, he'd stay away. Because that would be easier. Safer.
He'd lock himself away from all of them--not just her, but also his long-lost family--just as he'd tried to lock himself away from the foster family who took him in.
But Susan and Bob had fought for him, through difficult teenage years when he'd tried to stay inside his battered shell.
The Mavericks had fought for him, through thick and thin, profits and losses, personal hells and triumphs.
They'd all fought hard enough for him that he'd eventually had to accept their love as real. As strong. As lasting.
Now Paige would fight for him to
o. Because she'd loved Evan too long and loved him too deeply to walk away without a fight.
Chapter Nineteen
In his office the following day, with a rare thirty-minute break between meetings, Evan decided it was long past time to call Susan.
But even as he reached for his phone, he had a moment's trouble focusing. Yet again, Paige had consumed his thoughts last night, keeping him awake long past midnight. Not only the kiss they'd shared on her front step, but also how much he'd enjoyed their dinner, their walk together. When he'd finally slept, his dreams had been hot and wild--and full of joy.
Anything is possible, Evan. You just have to be willing.
Paige's voice had woven its way into his dreams. Had he been crazy for not carrying her inside and making love to her? For not discovering if waking up with her in his arms just might be the best thing he'd ever known?
Calling Susan when his insides felt this twisted was either a great idea, because she had a knack for finding the perfect words to say, or a terrible one, because she always saw right through to the heart of things. Even when Evan couldn't see them himself.
"Hey, lovely lady," he said when she answered.
"Evan." Her smile bubbled through in her voice. "I've missed your calls so much."
Guilt dealt him an uppercut, though Susan wouldn't have meant for that to happen. "And I've missed hearing your voice."
"How does it feel being back home?" He heard the two words she'd left out: without Whitney.
"It's good." Even if the house was way too big for just him. "But something huge happened on New Year's Day." There was no easy approach except saying it right out. "My mother came by to see me. To top it off, she has two adult children. My real brother and sister. Not half. Not step."
There was complete silence for two beats, then Susan's voice rushed out, "Oh Evan. Oh my God. I have to sit down." He heard the scrape of a chair. "You tell me. Everything."
He did, from start to finish. Except the part about kissing Paige. Or how exponentially his feelings had grown for her in the past week.
When he was finished, she said, "I'm just so glad Paige has been there for you. Just like she's always been."
Yes, without question, Paige had always been there when he needed her. He owed her so much. Flowers and an expensive dinner weren't enough. He just couldn't wrap his mind around anything that would actually show Paige how grateful he was. "I can tell," Susan continued, "how pleased you are to have met your brother and sister. But what about seeing your mom again?"