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“No kicking.”
Her eyes narrow. “Or what?” She gives another lazy kick aimed at my shins, but I catch her foot between my calves.
I don’t press hard, but it’ll be hard for her to get away unless I want her to. “Or consequences.”
She goes very still, shifting her pie to one hand and resting it against her hip. She reaches out and grasps a handful of my sweater in front and gives it a slight tug. “It’d be a shame if I had to ruin another of your sweaters, Henry.”
We’re eighteen inches apart, and neither of us can lean back without us both losing balance. We’re standing with our feet on the ground, but for the space of a breath, I feel all the tension of a highwire act.
Ultimately, I blink first and take a step back, releasing her trapped foot.
She takes a couple of seconds longer to let go of my sweater, finally releasing it, then smoothing down the section she bunched.
I swear I can almost feel the texture of her palm through my sweater and the shirt beneath it. It’s as odd as the tingling fingertips were.
“Don’t shave starting next Sunday,” she says like she didn’t experience the same electrical dysregulation between her hand and my chest. “And prepare yourself for imminent love. She won’t be able to resist you by the time I’m done with you.”
With that, she waves and continues on to her house.
Why does it feel quieter when Paige leaves now than when we left a house full of six noisy adults?
She’s a decade younger than you,my common sense reminds me as I rub where she’d smoothed my sweater.Let it go.
I don’t ask myself what “it” is.
Chapter Twenty
Henry
Letitgo.
You want three words designed to tempt fate even when you don’t believe in fate? Those are the three you need.
I’ve barely gotten home from my run—an extra-long one to pay for the midnight slice of Tabitha’s pecan pie I can’t bring myself to regret—when there’s a knock at my door. I open it to find Noah on my doorstep, holding Evie’s hand.
“Hello,” I say, uncertain why Paige’s brother is knocking on my door at 7:30 on a Friday morning. Or ever. They’re smiling, so there must not be anything wrong.
“We’re pulling a surprise!” Evie announces.
“That,” Noah says, grinning at her. “We’re giving Paige an early Christmas present, and by we, I mean us, Grace, Tabitha, Sawyer, Lisa, and a couple of other friends. Grace is running the project while Bill is at work keeping Paige busy until her shift ends at 3:00. We’ve got a short time for a big job, and we wondered if you’re free today.”
I’m not following. “An early Christmas present? A job?”
“Paige knew what she was getting into with this fixer-upper, but we want to give her a boost. Grace and Tab wanted to redo her bedroom while she’s working, but I know my sister, and she’s going to want the living room done first for her and Evie to hang out in. So Evie here shared her mom’s Pinterest board, and we ordered everything she needs to do the makeover. Now it’s just going to take some manpower.”
“And girl power,” Evie reminds him.
“Especially girl power,” he agrees. “If you’re free, do you want to come pitch in? I can promise there will be no discussion of ”—he looks down at Evie— “of lipstick.” He seems to consider this. “Well, as long as you don’t look like you’re still thrown by it. If you do, it’s probably all they’ll talk about.”
My lips twitch. “Why is that unsurprising?”
“You’ve advanced to the intermediate level of Winters Family Studies, I see.”
My smile breaks free. “Is being an unwilling victim part of the coursework?”
“It’s essential. So you’re in?”
I look down. “I suppose I’m already dressed for it. Let me feed my cat, and I’ll be over.”
