He is completely and totally wrong for me, she wanted to explain. He’s a cop, a man more dedicated to his job than he ever could be to me or a family.
But her biggest fears remained lodged in her throat and Pam finally left her office, dosing the door behind her. And because she knew that she had no future with Josh, that to remain in Miami would only cause her more heartache, she flipped open the file folder and searched for the business card she’d tucked in there a few weeks ago.
Then she reached for the phone and forced herself to dial the Realtor’s phone number.
5
JOSH BROUGHT Paige’s Volvo to an abrupt stop in the driveway of her beach house. On some level, he acknowledged that the For Sale sign posted on the front lawn shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering the revelations of the past week, but he was more than a little irritated that she hadn’t thought to share this momentous decision with him.
The woman sitting in the passenger seat next to him stared straight ahead, waiting for him to park the car in the garage, as was their nightly routine. She looked poised and distant, as if putting her house up for sale was nothing out of the ordinary.
His world had ceased being ordinary the night she’d asked him to make love to her. Everything she did, every decision she made, now affected the way his life, his future, would evolve. Apparently, she didn’t feel the same, and that provoked his temper. Her indifference had to be a farce. A woman didn’t give herself to a man the way Paige had so passionately offered herself to him without establishing some kind of emotional bond.
Keeping a tight rein on his darkening mood so he didn’t say or do something he’d regret later, he let the car roll forward into the garage. Before he could shut down the engine, Paige slipped out of the vehicle without a word, her purse and briefcase in hand. She pressed a code on the keypad on the wall that unlocked the door leading into the house and disabled the alarm. With a gentle sway of her hips beneath that coral-hued, straight-line knit dress she wore, she stepped inside, leaving the door open for him to follow.
Blowing out a harsh breath, he exited the car, shut the rolling garage door, and strode into the house in search of Paige. Judging by her hasty retreat, he knew she planned on avoiding him and the inevitable discussion ahead. He’d allowed her to maintain her distance since Monday, hadn’t pressured her the past three days for more than she was willing to give. He’d acted as professional and courteous as his job required, catering to her remote behavior and putting his own needs aside.
Not this time. As he followed the sounds drifting from the kitchen, he discovered he was itching for a confrontation. He wanted answers, and he intended to get them. He wanted to know where he stood with her. The evening wouldn’t end until he found out.
In the kitchen, Paige was pouring herself a glass of wine. It was an evening ritual-one glass of chardonnay, retreating to her bedroom for a long bath and to change, a quiet dinner, about an hour of TV, then bed.
He was tired of the monotony. Tired of avoiding important issues that affected both of their lives. Tired of lying in bed at night beside her-so close, so tempting-yet unable to pull her soft, responsive body beneath his as he longed to.
Tossing the keys onto the counter, he let his frustration get the best of him. “Why didn’t you tell me you listed the house?”
She stiffened at his demanding question, though she didn’t turn around and look at him. With incredibly steady hands, she recorked the bottle of wine, slipped it back into the refrigerator, and returned to the glass she’d left on the counter. “I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission to put the house up for sale.”
He jammed his hands on his hips, not that his fierce stance had much chance of intimidating the woman who stood with her back to him, looking out the kitchen window as she took a sip of wine. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it,” he said in a low voice.
Her shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “I didn’t think selling my house was any of your concern.”
Not any of his concern? Her sharp-edged comment hit below the belt, prompting a fury that boiled just beneath the surface of his skin-until he recognized her defense tactic. Enough words, he wanted to see her eyes. They’d never lied to him before. “Dammit, Paige, look at me.”
She turned around, chin up, her auburn hair swinging sassily along her shoulders with the defiant movement. Vibrant green eyes glared in reply to his gruff command, but there was something else beyond the anger, a heart-deep misery he’d seen too many times in the past to dismiss. An emotion that never failed to make his protective instincts come alive.
This tense moment was no different, but as much as he wanted to reach out and touch her, he knew she wouldn’t welcome the connection. He wanted answers, needed to know her reasons for making such a crucial decision that affected both of their lives, possibly even their future together. He had to know what her intentions were.
Treading cautiously, he said quietly, “Why are you selling the house?”
“You have to ask, after everything that’s happened the past week?” Her tone was high-pitched and incredulous. Before he could respond, she continued, “Not only does this place now make me feel uncomfortable, but it was always Anthony’s house, never mine. He designed and furnished it before I became part of his life.” She dragged her hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. Her eyes looked huge, her features weary. “And it’s too big for one person. The upkeep is more than I need right now.”
Relief coursed through him. Her rationalization made perfect sense, of course. He’d read too much into the sign out front, had reacted without knowing the facts, which wasn’t like him at all. “I’d be more than happy to help you find something else. Maybe a nice condo that’s closer to the Wild Rose.”
“Josh…” Looking away again, she dampened her bottom lip with her tongue, and continued on a rush of breath, “I put the Wild Rose up for sale, too.”
Josh’s entire universe shifted, and his heart slammed painfully against his ribs. He didn’t like where this conversation was heading, or what her decisions implied. He kept a casual attitude, though he was feeling anything but. “Why would you want to sell the Wild Rose? Your shop is one of the most successful boutiques on Harding Avenue.”
“Yeah, it’s done quite well in the two years I’ve had it,” she agreed, a small, satisfied smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “And it helped me keep my sanity. Without it, I would have gone crazy with boredom. But like my marriage to Anthony, the Wild Rose is a piece of my life I’d rather put behind me. I’ve lived, I’ve learned, and as soon as this case of yours is over, I’m moving on, a wiser person,” she said, reciting her father’s quote. Lifting her glass of wine from the counter, she headed out of the kitchen and through the living room, putting an end to their conversation.
Standing there in the silence, he thought about all she’d said, and what she hadn’t said. Deciding he wasn’t going to let the subject drop so easily, not when he didn’t have a firm grasp on her intentions, he stalked after her. Ignoring the closed bedroom door, he barged into her room unannounced.
She stood by the dresser. She’d just kicked off her heels and was in the process of unbuttoning the front of her dress. Visibly startled by his bold intrusion, she gasped, then scowled at him. “Do you mind, Josh? I’d like a little privacy.”
“Oh, I mind all right,” he murmured as he moved toward her, his gaze riveted to the five buttons she’d opened, low enough to reveal the scalloped edges of a lacy bra, and the firm upper slopes of her breasts. He forced himself to drag his eyes from that enticement before he forgot his purpose for seeking her out. “You walked away before we were done talking.”