Meant for You (The Connor Family 3)

I couldn’t say I’d had deep ties to anyone I’d dated. It wasn’t a conscious decision or something I could explain, but I’d never felt that strong bond that I thought was necessary for a long-term relationship. The few I did have were monogamous and based on mutual respect, but they didn’t lead anywhere. Maybe I wasn’t even capable of developing such a bond—some women I’d dated certainly expressed that thought.

“You thought bringing a date was so smart. Now you’re all....” Jace grinned, waving a hand as if he couldn’t find the right word.

“Jace, don’t haze him,” Val chided.

“But you’re doing it.”

“Yeah, we’re sisters. It’s our job. You’re supposed to have his back.”

“Even Val says it, man,” I said with a grin. But truthfully, I liked it when Jace gave me shit. I returned the favor as often as I could. Still, it never hurt to have an ally against my sisters.

“Besides, Jace, you’re one to talk,” Hailey said. “You were all over that blondie Pippa introduced you to.”

“What can I say? Pippa struck right this time. But Blondie was only in town for the wedding, so there goes our great love story.”

I listened carefully for the sound of the rollers moving. Jace and I seemed to be the only ones working. I half turned to my sisters to confirm my suspicion. Yeah, the girls were slacking.

“Girls, when are you going to learn to multitask? Either paint and gossip, or own up to the fact that your painting skills aren’t worth jack shit.”

Hailey and Val looked at each other, then attacked me at the same time. Paint flew in every direction. Jace watched and laughed.

When I left the house two hours later, I had smears of paint on my jeans and shirt. I’d had some on my face and arms too, but I washed them off. We’d finished the job, though. Hailey was content. I was glad to see my little sister finally living like a normal person. For a few years, she’d seemed to be in a race against time, working as a business consultant. To complete projects, to catch flights. I wouldn’t have minded if she’d been happy, but she hadn’t been. Not that Hailey would own up to it, but she’d smiled far less than usual, and her expression had been haunted when she talked about work at Friday dinners. But now she was here, with a new job, happy, and ready to plan interventions with Lori and Val. Or was it an ambush? I never knew. Sometimes I thought the girls had their own secret language. I’d come with my car instead of my bike, and as I climbed into it, I decided to drive to Paige’s inn. She’d mentioned during our hike that she’d be there this evening.

I recognized the car she’d filed that police report for in front of the gate, and parked right behind her. Then I headed straight into the yard, but came to a halt when I saw Paige wasn’t alone. She was with a guy. They were pointing at the facade, talking with their heads together.

Their ease with each other made my insides churn. They were obviously familiar. Paige noticed me and strode over, and the dude followed.

“Well, I have to leave now, but call me if you need anything. We’re on for dinner tomorrow, right?” he told her.

“Sure,” Paige answered him.

Dinner? Call me if you need me? Had I completely misread the situation with her? Damn, I liked her. A lot. Was he a friend?

“Hi, Paige,” I said when they were close enough. I was proud that I sounded relaxed, though if the guy was an ex, I’d lose my cool fast.

“Hey, Will. What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Remembered you said you’d be here. Thought I’d drop by.”

The guy put a hand on the small of her back. Paige smiled up at him. Dude was getting all her smiles, it seemed.

“Will, this is Declan, my brother.”

I’d have felt like an idiot if I weren’t so busy being relieved. Declan and I shook hands, and then he left.

Paige ran her hands through her hair, looking me straight in the eyes as if trying to gauge something. “I’m going to get myself a drink,” she said. “I still have some wine. Do you want a glass?”

I nodded, following her into the house. So the brother issue was cleared up, but something was still off. By the way she walked—more like stomped—and the slight sag in her shoulders, I surmised that she was upset about something. We went to the kitchen, and I took the wineglass she handed me. She was avoiding my eyes.

“Paige, what’s wrong? You’re acting strange.”

She wasn’t her usual self: laid-back, fun, sassy. She hadn’t even pushed one button. She drummed her fingers on her own glass, then took a swig. I’d questioned enough people to know what the hesitation meant: whatever was wrong had to do with me.

“Did I do something to make you mad?”

She took another swig, then finally said, “I don’t know what you being here means.”

My mind went blank. “You don’t know... what? You were there with me on that mountain yesterday, right? We had fun, we connected. Why does it surprise you that I’d stop by?”