Sweet (Landry Family 6)

Kira smirks. “It’s fine. He stayed and helped me close, and it all seems to have worked out. I’m a little jealous about that, but I’m happy for you.”

“Why are you jealous?” Paige asks.

“Boyfriend problems. It’s fine. We’ll talk later. I have to get back out to the bar.”

Kira gives us a little wave and returns to work.

“You good, Murray?” I ask.

He nods. “I’m confused but good.”

“Hey, Murray,” I call out.

When he looks up, I wink. “Get that sauce off the wall before I get back out here.”

He rolls his eyes and flips me the bird.

Is it time to fire him yet?

Paige laughs as we walk to my office. I shut the door behind us.

“I—ooh,” she says as I capture her words with my mouth.

I hold her face in my hands and show her how much I missed her today. This will never get old.

She pulls away, grinning, and catches her breath. “That’s one way to say hello.”

“That’s not my preferred way, but it’ll have to do for now.”

I take her hand and lead her to my chair. I sit and pull her on top of me, wrapping my arms around her.

Hopefully, if she’s having any second thoughts about being so open in front of her co-workers, this moment will reassure her that everything will be fine.

And it will. I’ll make sure of it.

She rests her head on my chest. “I needed this.”

“So did I.” I kiss the top of her head. “Did you have a good day?”

“I got a lot of stuff done. So that’s good.”

“That is good.”

“What about you?” she asks.

I sigh. “I had a meeting this morning with Landry Security. I took Lincoln a bottle of tequila so he’ll quit hounding me about it.”

She grins against me.

“I told them I’d work a job coming up,” I say.

“Do you like that job better than this one?”

I consider that. “Well, I like that I built this myself. It’s mine. I can be sure it won’t fail because I wouldn’t let it fail. But I enjoy working with the security company more. It’s a bit of an adrenaline shot sometimes, and the pay is great. And it’s not all on my shoulders. I can show up, do my job, and come home.”

Paige toys with the button on my shirt. “Makes sense.”

“I could sit here and hold you all night. But if I make you get up and get my stuff done, I can come home, and we can do this there. Privately.”

She hops up. “I like the sound of that.”

I lean on my knees. “You do, do you?”

She nods eagerly.

“Get your sweet ass out of here and let me get payroll situated and the order in for wine. If it’s not busy, I’ll be home around seven or so,” I say.

She plants a soft, chaste kiss against my lips. I try to deepen it, but she draws away.

“Nope. I want you to need more so you’ll come home,” she says, heading to the door. She winks and walks out, closing the door behind her.

If she only understood that needing more will never be a problem.

TWENTY-TWO

PAIGE

“I feel like a spy,” I say, slipping under Nate’s blankets.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his bare chest before I even think about where I might get comfortable. I don’t mind, though. Not at all.

Nate buries his face in my hair and hums. The peacefulness of the sound swirls around me. If this isn’t how life is supposed to be, I don’t want it.

Moonlight streams into the room, creating a cast of shadows on the walls and ceiling. I watch them move, interrupted by the tree limbs that brush the window softly as I’m nestled in Nate’s arms.

“It’s cold in here,” I say, pushing closer to him.

“Want me to get another blanket?”

“No. Just don’t move, and our body heat will warm us up. Two people can get much warmer together than one.” Add a dog, even better.

He snorts sleepily. “Okay. Do I want to know how you know that?”

I still.

It’s an innocent question. But it’s a question that stirs something deep inside my soul.

My life has always been delineated from pre-Carmichaels and post-Carmichaels, and the two sides didn’t mix. Talking to them about my past felt like I was dirtying up my new life. Not talking about it made me feel like I had shame, and that hurt too.

But could anyone understand the things I had to share? Would I be judged for it? Would they look at me differently?

Hollis didn’t. And the more I think about it, the more confident I am that Nate wouldn’t either.

The idea of opening up to him about the darker parts of my life terrifies me. I’ve said things before—just sort of thrown things out there and then changed the subject. But intentionally talking to him about these things, giving him details, and maybe allowing him to respond? To hold space for me?