The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) (15 page)

“You smell so damn good.” Desperate to touch her, he tugged at her tucked-in T-shirt until the hem broke free from her jeans.
Oh, God.
Running his palm over the bit of exposed skin at her midriff, his entire focus narrowed to the feel of her
velvety warmth, the smoothness of her belly against his callused palm. He ached to have her naked beneath him, every inch of him pressed against every inch of her.
Paige
. He had to have more.

She nuzzled his neck, sending a current of need straight to his groin, turning him rock hard. Her hands slipped under his shirt, and the skin-on-skin contact robbed him of any of the reasons why they should stop. She ran her hands over his back—and froze.

“What?” He pulled away to peer at the expression of shock on her face.
Oh, fuck.
He rolled off her and covered his eyes with his arm so he didn’t have to see the revulsion that would surely follow. “My scars.”

“I wasn’t expecting—”

“Yep. I get it.” He shot off the bed and kept his back to her so she couldn’t see the raging hard-on she’d caused.

“They don’t bother me, Ryan. I was just surprised, and—”

“No need to explain.” He scrubbed his face with both hands. What had he been thinking? No way did he have a ghost of a chance with a woman like her.
Fantasy squelched. Thank you very much, reality.
“We should call it a day.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

“OK. Look, I’m tired. I suggest you head on up to the big house now.”

She got up, tucked her shirt back in, and snatched her jacket off the bed. “I hate when you do that.”

He didn’t respond. Shame and self-loathing had him by the balls, and he wanted her gone while he melted down—for the third time today.

“Let me know when you grow up.” She shoved her feet into her shoes and stomped out of his apartment with her spine stiff.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Ryan muttered. He’d screwed up, overreacted, and pushed her away.
Shit.
Probably for the best. He had no business laying his hands on her perfect body.

He needed a drink. Hell, he needed several drinks—bad. And that scared him. Too much had been dredged up today, tearing his guts out and exposing the ugliness inside. Paige brought all the things missing in his life into a sharper-edged focus, slicing and dicing his soul into painful, bloody bits and pieces.

He’d had his shot at happily-ever-after with Theresa, and he’d blown it all to hell. He couldn’t survive another loss like that, yet he couldn’t get free of the hold Paige had on him either.
I’m doomed.

He needed to get his mind off this disaster trail, or he’d soon be heading for the nearest liquor store. Jamming his hands into his pockets, he stared at the bags on his coffee table.
Art. Design
. Hadn’t he gotten all fired up today when he saw the starburst quilt hanging in that window? Ideas had poured into his consciousness almost too fast to count.

He strode back to his bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed, studying the new quilt and trying not to notice the mussed-up spots where he and Paige had lain together mere moments ago. The concave and convex pieces creating a crooked path across the fabric intrigued him, along with the contrasting darkness of the hunter green mixed with the raspberry red against the gold background. How could he incorporate a similar pattern using wood as the medium instead of cloth? He needed to get his ideas down on paper, and he needed to get his mind off Paige.

He made his way to the living room and gathered his materials, finally settling himself on the couch. Good thing he’d thought to include slide rulers and ellipses templates in his purchases. Everything had to be scale.

He flipped through one of the quilt books, looking at the many patterns while assessing the possibilities. Inlay would be a challenge, since he had no idea how to make quilting patterns translate to wood. His woodworking skills were pretty basic, but Noah would have the knowhow, or at least he’d be able to point him in the right direction.

He started with a coffee table in a Log Cabin quilt pattern. The design involved a square center surrounded by narrow rectangles that grew longer with each placement—simple and perfect for learning the inlay process. Next, he designed a dining room table with a starburst center. Ryan lost himself in designing the prototypes, adding dimensions and notes on the side, along with wood types and stain ideas.

After what seemed like a few minutes, he stretched and glanced at the clock on his kitchen wall.
Damn.
Almost midnight. He’d worked without stopping for a good six hours.

Still buzzing with ideas, he got ready for bed. First thing in the morning, he’d find Noah and talk to him about the plans he’d come up with.

Ryan stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t caught a glimpse of his ghosts all night, and that had him fighting the impulse to call Paige. After being such a jerk, he owed her an apology, but calling her at midnight wouldn’t help his cause. Hell, he’d get down on his knees if necessary and beg for forgiveness. Paige topped his list when it came to wanting to talk to someone. Hadn’t he spilled his deepest and darkest secret to her today? He’d never told another living soul what he’d told her. That had to mean something.

Yep. It means you’re heading for a whole lot of heartache, and you’re just stupid enough to let it happen—’cause you’re
that
fool.

Tomorrow he’d apologize, and then he’d tell her about his night without ghosts. Maybe he’d show her the sketches. Ryan
slid into bed and pulled the new quilt over his shoulders. More ideas flooded his brain. He wanted to make a bed with the spool pattern on the headboard, or maybe he could come up with a new design all his own. Thoughts of the bed he wanted to create led to dreams of who he wanted next to him in that bed. Their bed. His and Paige’s.

Certifiable.
Good thing he already had an appointment set up with the shrink.

Paige yawned and reached for the coffeepot. She hadn’t slept a wink last night. Ryan’s reaction to her shock at finding his back covered with scars had played through her mind over and over, keeping her tossing and turning.
Damn
. Why hadn’t she considered how sensitive he’d be to any hesitation on her part? Had she learned nothing about him yesterday, like how hard he tried to shield himself from the world?

At some point today, she had to find Ryan and apologize for reacting the way she had over the scarring on his back. Somehow, she’d make him understand it had nothing to do with repulsion and everything to do with the heartache she’d experienced just thinking about the pain he’d suffered.

Filling the glass carafe with water, she let her mind drift to memories of Ryan’s kisses, his lopsided smile, those heart-stopping dimples. Sensitive, creative, gorgeous…wounded. Her heart fluttered. Despite the wounded part, she wanted him. A lot. Paige shook her head and groaned at her own foolishness while she started the coffee brewing. Tightening the belt of the old flannel robe she’d stolen from Noah, she stared out the kitchen window and listened to the birds coaxing the sun to rise.

“You’re up awfully early.” Ceejay stepped out of the back stairway with Toby in her arms.

“Yeah. I had trouble sleeping, so I gave up.” Paige ran her hand over Toby’s warm back. “You’re up early too.”

Ceejay dropped a kiss on her son’s head. “He’s an early bird, which means I’m always up at this time.”

“Bird,” Toby chirped and pointed out the window. “Peep, peep.”

Paige chuckled. “He’s so dang cute.”

“He knows it too.” Ceejay placed him in his high chair and moved to a cabinet to get a box of Cheerios. “I have a shift at the hospital tonight, and I promised Noah some quality kid-free time today before he’s on daddy duty. Are you up to an outing with me and the kids?”

“Absolutely. What do you want to do?”

“There’s a huge arts and crafts fair going on in New Harmony this weekend. They also have a little carnival area and petting zoo. I thought we could go check it out.”

“Ted mentioned it.” She blew out a breath. “You were right, by the way. He made a pass at me the night you and Noah were away.”

“Oh, no.” Ceejay flashed her a sympathetic look. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“That’s OK.” She shook her head. “It’s something I need to deal with. He showed up just as Ryan and I were leaving for Evansville yesterday. Those two don’t get along at all.”

“And you’re in the middle.” Ceejay put a handful of cereal and sliced banana on Toby’s tray. “You spent the day with Ryan?”

Her sister-in-law kept her eyes on her son, but Paige picked up on the subtle probe for more information. “We’re friends. I helped him pick out a phone, and we ran errands. It wasn’t a date.”

“Oh.” Ceejay nodded. “Good.”

“Why is that good?” Paige’s pulse surged with the need to defend him. “Don’t you think he’s date-worthy?”

Ceejay’s eyes widened. “He’s definitely date-worthy, or he will be once he’s dealt with some of his issues. But do you really want to start something with him while he’s in such a precarious place? What will that do to him when you leave?”

What would it to do to him?
What about me? I’m already in way over my head.
She needed to stop kissing him. No more lying down on the bed with him either. She didn’t mean to lead him on; it’s just that she had no resistance when it came to Ryan Malloy. “I’m not trying to start anything. I’m only trying to be his friend.” She grabbed the cream from the fridge, filled a couple of mugs with coffee, and handed one to Ceejay, placing the cream within easy reach. “I’m not exactly in a place to start anything with anyone either.”

“Noah told me you had your heart broken by some guy in Philly.”

“Not really. I made the mistake of dating a coworker, and it didn’t work out, that’s all.” She’d shared her story with Ryan, and he’d shared his with her. If nothing else, at least they’d keep each other’s secrets safe. She held on to that little bit of intimacy and pressed the warm mug between her palms.

“I’m sorry.” Ceejay came around the counter and hugged her shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” Paige hugged her back and sighed. “I need to go home. I’ll be out of your hair by next weekend.”

Ceejay straightened. “You’re not in anybody’s hair. Stay as long as you want. If you’re not happy with your job, you could always look for something around here. I love having you close.” She grinned, and her eyes filled with mischief. “Having you here
means I get to slip away for a night alone with my husband now and then.”

“I don’t know if staying is such a good idea.” Ryan’s boyish grin flashed into her head, along with the way she’d melted under him. With those damn dimples, his delectable scent, and all that heat and hardness, despite her best intentions, she couldn’t hold out for long. And like Ceejay said, now was not the time to start something with him.

Ceejay flashed her a knowing look. “Maybe not.”

Paige let out a long breath and stared out the patio doors. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me, it is. Only because Noah and I have been where the two of you are right now. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt, and at the same time, I don’t want to see either of you fight something that might be really great.” She studied the coffee in her mug. “It’s none of my business.”

“Does Noah know?”

“I don’t think he gets that it’s a two-way street, but he definitely knows Ryan is struggling with his attraction to you.”

“Great.” Ceejay and her brother’s situation had been completely different. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t ignore the suicide letter and the gun he had laid out on that table.” She blinked back the sudden sting in her eyes. “On the other hand, when I’m with him, even though it’s obvious he’s in a lot of pain, I also see glimpses of the man he could be.”

“Hmm.” Ceejay peered at her over the rim of her mug. “Do you really think he’s suicidal?”

“Don’t you?”

Ceejay shrugged. “He’s alive.”

“And?” What did Ceejay see that she didn’t?

“He and Noah have been back from Iraq for three years. Three. Years. Noah told me Ryan blames himself for what happened in Iraq. He believes that if he’d aimed his machine gun into the payload of the insurgent’s truck a lot sooner, the IEDs would’ve detonated in the desert, and no one would’ve been hurt. That’s some pretty serious guilt to carry around, especially considering his best friend died that day. If Ryan were truly suicidal, wouldn’t he be six feet under by now?” Ceejay shot her a questioning look. “I think maybe he needs to know there
is
an out, but how suicidal could he be if he’s still here after all this time? His actions might be more about punishing himself than they are about ending his life.”

“I didn’t know he’d lost his best friend. He didn’t tell me that part.”

Ceejay’s expression sharpened. “What part did he tell you?”

“I can’t share what he told me in confidence, but knowing he lost someone close that day explains a lot.” Add another dose of guilt for his fiancée, and it made sense. Paige rested her chin on her fists and stared out the patio doors again. “He made an appointment yesterday while we were in town. He’s going to start seeing a therapist at the VA center.”