Chapter 10
My phone ringing wakes me up, and I’m tempted to ignore it, but then I remember Jo was going to call on her drive home. My eyes snap open to total darkness, and I scramble for the phone plugged in on my bedside table.
“Everything’s just peachy,” Jo’s breath huffs out in a tired sigh. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“No, no. I’m up. My nap turned into a coma, so my night is screwed anyway. Tell me what’s going on. Did you and Andy talk about the letter again?” I rub my eyes vigorously, trying to clear the fuzz from my head.
“No, but when I got home again and checked the mail, another note was in the mailbox.” I bolt upright, disappearing the last dregs of sleep from my body.
“No fucking way. What did it say?”
“It was addressed to Andy—”
“Jo! Who cares? You have to open it!” I interrupt her.
“Obviously, I opened it, Paige,” Jo says, her tone slightly exasperated. “This one said ‘Your lies are catching up with you. Time’s almost out.’ What the fuck does this all mean, Paige?” Her voice wobbles and I feel my own eyes begin to prickle.
“Do you need me to come over? I can be there in 15.” I throw the covers off, readying myself to bolt out of the house.
Jo hesitates for long enough that I crouch down and search the floor for the jeans I’d cast off earlier. “No…I don’t know what I need. I think I need to be alone. I just wanted to hear your voice for a second.”
I pause in my pants search. She sounds so small and alone, I’m tempted to argue with her. “You sure?” I ask.
“Uhuh,” she hiccups, clearly mid-cry.
“Well I’m just a phone call away. Or a text. Let’s make a code. If you send me a bat emoji I’ll drop whatever I’m doing and rush to your side.”
Jo snorts. Mission accomplished. “I love you. Thank you for watching Kody. Knowing she was being taken care of was the only thing that made today tolerable.”
“I love you.” We hang up. I hate that this is happening to her.
My whole body tingles with the worry of it all.
One thing is certain: I’m going to do whatever I can to help Jo figure this mess out.
I spend six days a week surrounded by mystery-solving heroes; I should be able to come up with a plan.
If I was Sherlock Holmes, I’d have this figured out in seconds.
The slant of the writing indicates an unhinged mind.
Or a spurned lover, or a missing fortune, or a deceased widow.
My stomach rumbles loudly. I haven’t eaten since lunch, and now I’m painfully awake.
I move through the house, switching on lights as I make my way to the kitchen.
Scrambled egg dinner for one, coming up.
I pull out the ingredients from the fridge and press ‘play’ on my phone.
The sound of soft guitar strumming fills the air, and a tension I didn’t realize I was holding eases from my shoulders.
I don’t mind being alone, but I hate being alone in a silent house.
Minutes later, I’m seated at the kitchen table with a forkful of fluffy, cheesy eggs heading for my mouth when I hear a knock at the door. The fork clatters to my plate, hunger replaced by a surge of adrenaline. Who the hell knocks on a door in the middle of the woods at 10pm?
The only person who would dare do a late night drive by is Jo, but there’s no way she could have made it here from her house already.
I cross the floor in semi-darkness to the kitchen window, moving aside the curtain to see if I can catch a glimpse of the knocker.
A different kind of rush overwhelms my body.
For the second time in one day, Shayne is standing on a porch waiting for me to acknowledge him.
God damn bastard is constantly appearing out of nowhere, absolutely dysregulating my nervous system.
However, despite my annoyance, my neck tingles with the memory of his fingers, and heat blooms low in my stomach as I think about that ridiculous tongue lick.
My eyes drink him in from the safety of my darkened kitchen.
The Shayne who has arrived on my porch tonight has a much different energy than he did this morning.
He looks like a caged panther, with his arms crossed against his broad chest, subtly shifting his weight from side to side.
His features are intensely shadowed by the light hanging above his head, making him look exactly like the last person you’d want to find on your doorstep in the middle of the night: all sharp angles and bulging muscles.
He’s the human version of the big bad wolf, and he’s come knocking on my door for…
what exactly? There’s only one way to find out.
I pinch my cheeks a couple times as I make my way to the front door.
There’s nothing that can be done about my clothes though—I’m wearing a plaid flannel nightshirt that ends mid thigh and an old gray hoodie.
I wish I was the person who lounged around their house in a matching silk negligee set.
But no, I am decidedly not. My sleep outfits are not meant for public consumption.
I crack open the front door, hiding my body behind it.
“Shayne, what are you doing here?”
His eyes are two black pools of intensity.
He takes a step closer to the threshold and I fight the urge to slam the door closed.
In the short while we’ve known each other, he hasn’t done anything to make me feel threatened, but the look on his face right now is thunderous, and I have no idea what to expect.
The man standing here is different from the easy-going, lightly flirty, albeit dangerously gorgeous, man I’ve been drooling over.
“Are you busy?” he asks, his voice a gruff rumble that sends shivers down my skin.
“Are you serious? It’s 10pm on a Sunday. What do you think I’m doing? Hosting a rousing game of solo charades?” I can’t help but throw him a little sass, considering he removed at least two years off my life with his unexpected drop in.
“Can I come in?” I take a moment to consider this request, which is surprising since I’ve spent a decent amount of time imagining this scenario since the moment we met. In my dreams, he arrived in a much better mood.
“It’s late and I’m in my pajamas.” The muscles in Shayne’s jaw flex once, twice, but he uncrosses his arms, an attempt to communicate what? Meekness? There isn’t a single meek bone in his body. Every inch of him unhinges me.
“I, uh, had a fucked up day. I thought you might want some company.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now? You had a fucked up day, so you thought I would like some company?”
“Are you just going to repeat everything I say back to me, or are you going to let me come in?” Shayne says, exasperated. I’m not going to lie, I’m enjoying seeing him squirm.
“Hey buddy, you’re the one who showed up on my doorstep in the wee hours, unannounced I might add, looking like someone peed in your sandbox.
Maybe a ‘hey Paige, how was your day, sorry for scaring you out into next Tuesday. Fancy a cuppa?’” I reply, cracking the door a little wider so I can lean against the door frame.
I cross my legs at the ankles and immediately feel his eyes travel up my body, taking in my ridiculous outfit.
It makes me shiver and want to hide at the same time.
“Hey Paige. How was your day? Do you want to fuck me?” he asks. His eyes burn like coals into mine.
I am legitimately speechless. If I wasn’t propped up against this door jamb, I would fall over.
He steps closer, bringing himself within inches of me. “Do you want to fuck me?” He asks again. I feel his hot breath on my cheek. Each word is a promise that tonight will be a night I’ll never forget.
There’s only one answer.
“Yes.”
He’s on me before I can draw in breath. His lips crash down onto mine as his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me hard against him.
I gasp, already feeling lightheaded as waves of lust crash through me.
He tastes me with his tongue, teeth gently grazing my lips.
We kiss ourselves breathless, the rough stubble on his chin making me feel raw and untethered.
It’s everything I’ve imagined and more. I run my hands up his shirt, hungry for more of his skin while our mouths continue to devour each other.
He’s smooth and hard, this body of his should be carved in marble and placed in a temple somewhere as a public service.
He drags his mouth from my lips to my neck, and I arch my head back to give him more access.
We’re still standing in my open doorway, and I say a silent thank you to the universe that I don’t have to worry about the prying eyes of neighbors.
Still, there are at least ten moths hovering above our heads, and I’d like to suggest we take this fully inside, but I don’t want to break whatever spell is responsible for making this happen. Things like this don’t happen to me.
If this is another one of my fevered sex dreams that have been keeping me up these past nights, please dear God let me get past penetration this time. I run my hands along his arms one more time just to make sure. He feels real. Real fucking amazing. Please let this be real.
As luck would have it, Shayne turns out to be a mind reader on top of being a mind-numbingly incredible kisser because one second I’m pressed up between him and the door jamb and the next he has lifted me up, stepped inside, and kicked the door closed.
I’m now up against the door with my legs wrapped around his hips while he feasts on my neck.
I might as well be straddling an oak tree.
He’s massive. He snakes his hand from around my waist to cup my breast, thumbing my nipple into a taut peak through the thin fabric.
A low moan escapes my mouth, and I rake my fingers through his hair.
It’s thick and soft, and I could spend hours doing just this.