Lucas stormed up the stairs, and when he reached the tiny room he now called his, he slammed the door. Not because he was mad at Paige—she really hadn’t done anything wrong by coming downstairs for a glass of water—but because he was mad at himself. Partly for being such a horse’s ass and biting her head off and partly for the fact that he’d nearly kissed her. Twice.
He wasn’t entirely sure he was going back into the B and B business, but either way, his sister was right. He didn’t need his bad behavior documented online for all the world to read. If Sophie thought a review that mentioned limits on hot water usage would be bad, she’d really flip over one about an innkeeper who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
But Paige had looked so beautiful in the firelight, and in the quiet moments, it was all he could do not to take her in his arms. There were times he could have sworn she felt the same way. Like when he’d put his hand on her cheek and her lips parted in invitation. It was the perfect opportunity, but instead of kissing her senseless, he’d merely wiped a bit of chocolate off her lower lip. Smooth, Croft. Forget striking out; he hadn’t even bothered to take a swing.
Lucas groaned. He was doing it again, acting like Paige was a potential hookup, when, in fact, she was a paying guest. Of course, it didn’t help matters that he’d come upstairs to find her standing buck-ass naked in the hallway. The sight of her, all slick and soft feminine curves, had been like a shot of adrenaline right to his dick. He didn’t think he’d ever been so hard in his life, something that wasn’t lost on his houseguest. He wasn’t sure if she even realized what she was doing, but in that moment, the one before the hasty covering and the fumbled apology, her gaze had dropped and her eyes had flared. And then her teeth had sunk ever so slightly into her bottom lip, and all he could think about was having those lips wrapped around…
Holy hell.
Lucas ran a hand through his hair. It didn’t matter how much he’d wanted to press her against that wall, or how later he’d wanted to lay her out in front of the fire, taking his time to explore every inch of her until neither of them could wait one second longer. He needed to get a grip. And not just on how he was acting around Paige, but on his life in general. He owed it not only to Maddie, but to Jenny’s memory as well.
He climbed into his makeshift bed. Lucas knew it was ridiculous that he still slept on the floor in the spare room. But that first night alone, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in their bed. He was too afraid he would reach across the mattress in the middle of the night to find nothing but emptiness. The small twin bed didn’t leave much room for false hope or expectations, and somehow that made it easier to sleep.
But not tonight.
He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he did, he dreamed of Jenny for the first time in months. The other times his late wife had visited his subconscious had been truly dreamlike. Soft-focused and ethereal, they were as delicate as the early-morning mist. But this time it was different. This time her image was so vivid, her presence so lifelike, Lucas could have sworn that it was real.
She came to him like she always did, wearing the pale-yellow sundress she’d had on the day he proposed. He’d brought her a bouquet of daffodils, which she swore were her favorite though he suspected she’d told him that because at the time, stealing a few from his neighbor’s garden was all he could afford. Years later, she’d planted daffodil bulbs in front of the inn so whether they’d been her favorite all along or not, they’d certainly taken on a special meaning after that day, which was why Lucas wasn’t at all surprised to see this dream version of her holding a bouquet of the bright-yellow flowers.
Jenny sat on the porch in one of the rockers. As he drew closer, she looked up at him and smiled. “She has your eyes.”
“Maybe, but the rest of her is all you,” Lucas replied.
Jenny laughed. The delicate sound was the sweetest torture to his ears. “She does have my crazy curls.”
That he knew. Lucas had spent countless mornings trying to tame Maddie’s dark mane into submission, but he never complained because running a brush through his daughter’s hair felt like a tangible connection to a past she was slowly forgetting. Most days he pulled it all back into pigtails, but on the rare occasion that she wanted to leave it down, she was the spitting image of her mother, something he was quick to point out.
“I miss you” was all he said. Three simple words that held so much truth.
Jenny grew more serious. “I’m okay, Luc.” She was suddenly in front of him. No standing, no walking. She was just…there. “And you will be too.” Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Even asleep, part of him knew it wasn’t real, but that’s not how it felt. Unlike the movies, where ghosts were cold and had no touch, he could feel Jenny’s lips on his cheek, her warm breath on his face, and when he reached for her, he wasn’t grasping thin air, but rather soft skin.
“How…”
She pressed a finger to his lips, and he felt that too. He wanted to believe she was real, to open his eyes and know that Jenny was back in his arms and in his life, but even asleep he knew it wasn’t true. All he could do was enjoy the moment before it vanished.
He flexed his fingers against her waist. “Don’t go.” The words fell from his lips like a prayer, but he’d no sooner said them than she was suddenly by the rocking chair again. She set the daffodils on the table, then turned toward the ocean. Lucas followed her gaze out to the dark beach, but saw nothing. When he looked back to Jenny, she was gone.
Lucas opened his eyes to find he was alone in the dark. But unlike the countless other times he’d woken from a dream where Jenny had visited him in his sleep, he didn’t feel the overwhelming sense of loss. In fact, as he stared at the plaster ceiling, he felt unusually calm.
He’d once told Sophie about the dreams he’d had of Jenny. According to her, dreams were an important part of the grieving process. She’d even brought him a book on the subject. He’d balked at the idea, claiming he had too much to do to read about wacky dream theories, but one night a few months ago, he’d finally cracked it open. He’d never admit as much to his sister, but some of it made sense.
According to the book, there were two types of dreams. The most common were memory dreams. Those were scenes from the lives of the deceased, or memories that came to life, bringing the lost loved one with them. The second type was called a visitation dream. That was when the deceased loved one supposedly crossed over to visit someone left behind. These were meant to provide reassurance and peace.
Lucas wasn’t sure what he’d just experienced, but before he could give it too much thought, he drifted back to sleep. When he woke again, he felt more rested than he had in years. When he checked his watch, Lucas’s eyes grew wide. Ten o’clock? He hadn’t slept that late since college.
He rolled off the mattress and pulled on his jeans. He picked up the T-shirt he’d worn the night before and gave it a sniff. Nope. After tossing it into the overflowing hamper, he settled on the black V-neck sweater Sophie had given him for his birthday. Seemed a bit dressy for a day around the house, but it was soft and it was clean, so it worked.
The electricity must have come back on at some point, because when he got to the kitchen, there was a carafe of coffee waiting on the counter. He touched the glass. Still hot. Excellent. There was a lot he needed to say to his guest, but words came easier after caffeine. So instead of heading straight to the living room, Lucas reached for a mug so he could pour himself a cup of courage. There were usually at least one or two on the counter, but for some reason none were in sight. Weird. But then he opened the cabinet, and it all made sense. Inside were rows of mugs, organized from left to right in descending size. Occupational hazard? He’d certainly bring that up later, but for now he was more concerned about apologizing to Paige than he was with questioning her compulsive need to organize his cabinets.
“Morning,” she said from behind him.
Lucas turned to find her standing in the doorway, an empty coffee mug in one hand and a sleeping puppy held against her chest with the other.
“I needed a refill,” she said. “But this guy was so content, I didn’t have the heart to put him down.” She made her way closer to the French press, then paused.
“Here, let me,” Lucas offered, refilling her mug. He took a large swig of coffee, followed by a deep breath. “I’m sorry for the way I acted last night.” He meant the apology in more ways than one, but Paige only seemed aware of the most obvious.
“I swear I wasn’t spying on you. I just came down for a glass of water, and then I heard a noise so I went to see what it was, and then I saw you sitting by the fireplace and—” She was talking so quickly, even the pup opened one eye.
“It’s okay,” he said, cutting her off so she could take a breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I totally overreacted.”
She exhaled in relief, then smiled. “I honestly didn’t intend to lurk in the shadows. I would have come in and probably annoyed you by asking a bunch of questions.” The smile slipped from her face. “But I thought it best to leave you alone.” She hesitated, like she wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if she should. Clearly she’d chosen the latter because when she spoke again, it was on an entirely different subject.
“The power is back on.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “Which I guess you already know.”
Lucas’s gaze shifted to the unlit router on top of the refrigerator. “No internet though.”
“I’ll survive.” From the look on Paige’s face, Lucas wasn’t the only one surprised by her statement.
“Listen,” he began, “I know that not much about this place is as advertised. And I’ve been possibly the worst host ever…” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, there’s this small hotel down by the harbor. I’m sure they have rooms. If you want, I can move your stuff over there until the ferry opens.”
Paige smiled. “Thanks, but I’m just fine here.”
“Really?” Lucas cleared his throat. “I mean, that’s great.” Talk about the understatement of the century. The money from the booking had already been applied to the balance of the tax bill. Moving Paige to the hotel would have had to go on his credit card, which was already busting at the seams. Still, the relief he felt had less to do with his budget and more to do with the woman currently nuzzling a puppy in his kitchen. He couldn’t explain it, but he wasn’t ready for Paige Parker to walk out of his life just yet.
“What do you say we start over?”
A tiny furrow formed between her brows. “Didn’t we already do that?”
“And what, you’ve never heard of a double do-over?” Lucas knew his reference was a bit immature, the side effect of spending the majority of his time with a four-year-old. With any luck, Paige would see it as less dork and more charm.
Her mouth curved into an amused grin that could have gone either way, but then she bit her lip ever so subtly, which definitely tipped the scales in charm’s favor. “Um, no, can’t say I have,” she said. “Does it require some supersecret handshake?”
Lucas wanted to say that it was customary to seal such deals with a kiss, but instead he merely stuck out his hand. She placed her free hand in his just as she had the first time they’d started over, only this time she didn’t grasp his hand like she’d just negotiated the deal of a lifetime. This time her touch was gentle and soft, and all at once Lucas wanted to feel those fingers strumming leisurely down his back. Preferably in bed with their naked bodies entwined in a postorgasmic embrace. Whoa. Way to be oddly specific, Croft.
“Shall I whip us up some eggs?”
“Actually,” she said, lifting the tiny puppy so she and the dog were nose to nose, “Leonardo and I already ate. He had some milk from his momma, and I found a granola bar in a cabinet.” Her eyes darted to his. “Hope it’s okay that I scrounged around.”
He should have been down in time to offer his guest a proper breakfast. Bad enough she had to fend for herself, but even worse that his behavior had her feeling unsure if she should. “Of course.” He raised a brow. “Leonardo, eh?”
“I couldn’t very well call them puppies one through four.”
“After DiCaprio, I presume. Let me guess… Your favorite movie when you were young was Titanic?”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Please.”
“Da Vinci?” he asked. Not quite as clichéd but still fairly “extra,” as his sister might say.
Paige surprised him by shaking her head. “Da Turtle.”
Now that one he didn’t see coming. He was fairly certain he knew the answer to his next question, but he still asked, “And the other three?”
She grinned. “Michelangelo, Raphael, and Donatella.”
“You’ve named the puppies after the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?” This woman was turning out to be quite the enigma.
“Well, they were living in a sewer.”
“Fair point. But don’t you mean Donatello?”
“Nope. One is a girl.”
“I stand corrected.”
She turned toward the living room, then looked back over her shoulder. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the pack.”
“Does this mean you’re their—”
“Don’t you dare say rat sensei.”
Lucas chuckled as he watched her walk out of the room. Smoking hot and a knowledge of his favorite comic-book heroes? Paige Parker might have been a certified pain in the ass, but in the back of his mind, part of him already knew she had the potential to be his perfect match.
* * *
Paige made her way down the hall and into the living room. When she’d turned around, she could have sworn Lucas was checking out her ass. And it wasn’t the first time. Even now she could practically feel the heat of his stare following each sway of her hips. On one level, she knew she should have been offended. Eyes up here, buddy, and all that. But on another level, she was shamelessly flattered. Not to mention completely fascinated with Lucas Croft’s apparent obsession with her backside. Guys had always checked out her breasts. But her butt? Let’s just say it was a lot to look at.
When she reached the fireplace, she knelt on the floor next to the pups. Their mother lifted her head for a moment before going back to sleep. Poor thing. Couldn’t have been easy to endure that storm all day and then have four rug rats feeding on her all night. She cringed at the thought of having one hungry mouth munching on her nipples. But four?
Speaking of breasts…
She looked down at the puppy she still held in her arms. He was snuggled quite contently against her chest and let out a squeak of protest as she passed him to Lucas. “You’ve already met Leo,” she said. “And this is Raphael.” She reached for the pup trying to nudge his brother out of the way for what was apparently a more desirable teat on which to feed. “He’s a bit of a bully.” She lifted the tan-colored dog to look him in the eyes. “Aren’t you?” The pup wiggled his rear end in an attempt to break free. “No matter where the others are feeding, that’s where he wants to be.”
Raphael yelped. The sound was far stronger than the noises his siblings made.
“I see he’s got the New York accent down,” Lucas said as he sat on the floor beside her.
Paige smiled. “All he needs is a little red mask.” She kissed the pup on the head and placed him back with his mother.
“That is Michelangelo,” she said. “But I just call him Mikey.” The black-and-white pup was tugging on his sister’s tail. “Fitting, as he seems to be the most playful.” She moved him to the other side of the pack. “Jury is still out on whether or not he likes pizza.”
Lucas nodded. “Or if he can surf.”
Paige was impressed. Not everyone she met was so well versed in TMNT trivia, and if she was honest, it was more than a little bit of a turn-on. Wow, couldn’t get much nerdier than that, she thought. Sammy was always on her to let him list her on whatever dating app was trending hottest that week. For a moment, she imagined the look on his face if she finally agreed, but only if the listing said she was looking for a nonsmoker who did his own laundry, knew how to cook, believed “ladies first” applied to more than just doorways, and had a working knowledge of all things Ninja Turtle.
“And this little sweetie,” she said, picking up the smallest pup, an all-black female, “is Donatella.”
“And are you calling her Donna?”
Paige considered the option for a moment, then decided against it. “No. She’s delicate and, though small, has a personality large enough to justify the name.”
“I can see you’ve given these a lot of thought.”
She shrugged. “I had a lot of time on my hands,” she said. “These guys are cute, but they’re not big on conversation.” She left out the part about not having much else to do once he’d huffed out of the room, leaving her alone for the night with nothing but canine companions.
Lucas stroked the head of the pup snuggled in his lap, tracing the white zigzag that stretched between his eyes. “What made you name this little guy Leonardo?”
“Well, Leonardo is the courageous leader and also the most devoted to Splinter,” she explained. “And this one was always trying to wiggle over to me last night.”
Lucas smiled. “So you are their rat leader.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Sensei. Not rat.”
Paige had to fight back a grin. She might have feigned outrage over being called a rat, but deep down she was secretly pleased Lucas referred to her as the leader of the pack—vermin or not—versus typecasting her as April, their plucky human companion.
“What about the momma?”
Paige considered her answer. “I’m not sure. Will have to get back to you on that.”
“Fair enough.” Lucas looked up from the litter to meet her gaze. “I have to admit, I’m more than a bit impressed by your comic-book knowledge.”
She laughed. “Well, don’t be. My expertise in the area is limited to turtles and Power Rangers.”
“Power Rangers?”
“Oh yeah. Begged my mom to let me be the green one for Halloween, but she thought the mask would obstruct my vision.”
“Now see, I would have totally guessed Pink Ranger,” Lucas said.
“Guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Paige said. There was a lot she didn’t know about Lucas Croft, either, something she would very much like to correct. “We could change that,” she blurted out.
Lucas cocked his head to one side. “What did you have in mind?”
Talk about a loaded question. If this had been some X-rated version of a nineties Disney Channel show, a tiny animated version of Paige would have appeared on her shoulder to whisper all manner of depraved suggestions. Scratch that, she thought. A tiny animated version of Sammy would have appeared, no doubt holding a martini glass and wearing his favorite Elton John bedazzled sunglasses. But this wasn’t Lizzie McGuire: The Sex-Drought Years, this was her very real, very boring life. So instead of suggesting any of the dirty thoughts that immediately came to mind—all of which involved far less clothing—she went with her original idea. “How about Twenty Questions: The Paige Parker Edition.”
He grinned. “I’m not familiar with that version.”
“It’s quite simple really. I ask you twenty questions.”
His head fell back on a laugh. “That’s not even close to the point of the game.”
He was right, but what fun would that be? “My version, remember?”
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “Okay, deal. On one condition. We each get ten questions.”
“You’re a tough negotiator, Mr. Croft, but you have a deal.”
“Ladies first.”
Not quite the “ladies first doesn’t only apply to doors” exception she’d been hoping for, but it was a good start.
She took a moment to consider her first question. There was so much she wanted to know about her mysterious host and his even more mysterious house, but she needed to tread lightly. This wasn’t a prospective client or vendor, and it certainly wasn’t someone she was interviewing for a job. If it were any of those, she’d have had no problem. But real life, personal interactions? Paige was more than a little rusty with those, and even if she wasn’t, the expression bull in a china shop came to mind. Last thing she wanted was to scare him away.
“So, what made you decide to live here?” she asked. It seemed like the perfect place to start, somewhat general but still on topic.
“You mean a sleepy little island with no cars?”
Paige nodded. Aurelia Island wasn’t exactly a hotbed of social activity.
“My parents bought a place here years ago.”
“Oh, so you grew up here?”
“No. I grew up in Pennsylvania. The home they bought here was meant to be for their retirement.” There was an unmistakable sadness in his voice.
“I take it that plan changed?” Paige didn’t want to pry, but the way he looked at her made her want to comfort him. It was a sorrow that made him look like a very young boy. Then again, Paige had once read that no matter how old you were when you lost your parents, you all at once felt like a vulnerable child. It was hard to imagine Lucas Croft feeling like that, but if the look in his eyes was any indication, the article she’d read was absolutely right.
Lucas nodded. “They were killed by a drunk driver.” He exhaled a heavy breath. “Classic story. Asshole has one too many, no one takes his keys, and he ends up crossing the line into oncoming traffic.” He drew one leg up to rest his elbow on his knee. “The officer on the scene said they didn’t suffer. The head-on collision killed them instantly.” His gaze was locked, unseeing, on the empty hearth in front of him. “I guess I should be grateful for that.”
“I’m so sorry.” The words alone seemed trite and inadequate, but she meant them. Hopefully that came across.
His eyes met hers, and in that moment, she knew he felt her sincerity. “Thank you.” He mustered half a smile. “Ironic, really. They buy a retirement dream home on an island without cars and end up killed by one before they could even move in.”
“Is that why you live here now?”
“Sort of.” Lucas reached for Michelangelo and began stroking his back. The tiny pup’s eyes closed almost instantly. “Soph had just graduated from college. She came down for a few weeks to clean the place out and ended up staying.”
“She was young to lose her parents. You both were.”
“She took it really hard,” he said, totally deflecting the second part of what Paige had said. “At first, I thought maybe she was hiding out here, you know? Like clinging to their memory or maybe avoiding drunk drivers by avoiding cars.” He gave a weak smile. “Maybe both, who knows? But she just sort of clicked here. The people, the pace. It was all perfect for her.”
“And you?”
He grimaced. “If you’d have told me when I was in college that I’d be living here now, I would have said you were crazy. But when Sophie called to tell us about this place… Well, it seemed like the perfect spot to raise a family.”
The use of the plural pronoun wasn’t lost on Paige, and her thoughts went immediately to the photograph of Lucas and his pregnant wife. Should she ask what happened to her, or was that too personal? She’d barely had a chance to consider the options before Lucas changed the subject.
“I’m starving.” He glanced at the grandfather clock as it struck noon in the hallway behind him.
“But what about my ten questions?” Paige asked.
“By my count, you have five left.” He stood up. “Four, if I count the one you just asked.”
Her mouth popped open. “That doesn’t count. I was only asking if we were going to finish.”
Lucas reached for Paige’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Relax, I’ll credit you back the point…I mean the question.”
She smiled to herself. Seemed she wasn’t the only one with a competitive streak.
“But first, I’m going to run and borrow some dog food from my neighbor. Then we’ll see about cashing in that rain check for mac and cheese.”