Chapter 11
How have I let myself become so totally enamored with another unworthy man?
I should be on cloud nine after last night.
I should be walking on air. It’s been years since I’ve had good sex.
John and I had a spark and sizzle when we first met, but that faded to an overly comfortable dying ember by the time we were through.
Our physical relationship was hanging on by a thread, more perfunctory than passionate.
Honestly, I’m not sure if I’ve ever had sex as good as last night, even pre-John.
Youthful drunken rumblings, I barely remember thee.
Maybe that’s what the issue is. Maybe this is what happens when my body achieves unadulterated bliss, like a kind of mental and emotional hangover.
My thoughts continue their exhausting loop for the better part of the day.
You wanted a night with him—you got it. Celebrate! But now that you had a taste—that’s all you want.
Who cares that he’s being mysterious and strange—go with the flow!
Don’t you dare go with that flow! Getting involved with someone who can’t be honest with you will lead to a thousand torturous cry showers. Abort!
My lame attempt at quelling the constant noise is to focus on one thing, the biggest thing: what is his big, hairy, messy secret that he’s convinced my knowing will ruin my life?
The easiest guess is he’s married. He has a wife and he slipped up because I’m just too irresistible.
This is the most likely scenario, but something about it doesn’t quite fit—and not just because I doubt the potency of my irresistibility.
I can’t back up my he’s-got-a-wife theory with a proper internet search either, which is infinitely frustrating and embarrassing, because…
I don’t know his last name. If Jo wasn’t dealing with her life falling apart, I’d just ask her.
I got desperate and googled ‘Shayne, horse, rodeo’ and now I know Shayne is a very common name for guys who like horses.
The door chime rings, and an artfully messy bun of flaming red hair fills my vision. The universe has delivered a perfect solution to my problem.
“Jo! I didn’t think you were coming to town today. How’s Andy?” I ask, standing up from where I was kneeling in the Mysteries &Thriller section. Jo looks harried and out of sorts.
“Hey Paige, quiet in here today?”
“Hey, I’ve got a weird question,” Jo says, an uneasy expression on her face. “You didn’t try to get into the office in the barn while you were watching Kody, did you?”
“The office in the barn? No, why would I ever need to go in there?” My mind races. Why does the barn office ring a bell? It hits me like a punch in the gut. Shayne. Shayne wanted to get into the office.
“I went down there this morning, and some paperwork that I left out on the desk was gone. I must have misfiled it somewhere. I’ve looked all morning, but I can’t find it anywhere.”
“What kind of paperwork? Is it something valuable?” Like the code to your bank account?
“No, nothing crazy. It was just a stack of credit card bills I thought I’d try to work through today. I can find the two that are mine, but Andy’s statement is missing.”
“That’s so weird. Can’t you get it online?” Is this why Shayne was trying to get into the office? What on earth could Shayne want with Andy’s credit card bill?
“No, I don’t have his login info. I just go off the paper copy in the mail.
He’s had it since before we were married.
It’s no big deal. I can just wait until he’s home to figure it out.
” A line of tension forms between her eyebrows.
I should tell her about Shayne asking for the key.
If I don’t tell her now and it turns out it was him, she’ll be so upset I didn’t say anything.
But, if I’m being overly suspicious and it isn’t Shayne, then I’ll have stepped in something I should have left alone.
I don’t want to worry her until I know it was him for sure. This means I have to talk to Shayne.
And he’s the last person I want to talk to right now.
“How are things working out with Shayne?” I ask, attempting as neutral a tone as I can manage.
Jo’s face instantly relaxes. “Oh man, the guy is a godsend. Spike is obsessed, says not only is he managing all the responsibilities with the pregnant mares, he’s been a big help saddle training. If we could afford to keep him on permanently, I’d jump at the chance.”
The image of Shayne in the corral yesterday (how could that be yesterday?
! An entire lifetime has happened since then) pops into my head, and my knees feel weak.
I need to remember that I hate him. At least he’s delivering on making Jo’s life easier on the ranch.
His deep, dark secret clearly doesn’t affect his job performance—just his relationship status.
“You talk much to him?”
Jo cocks her head at me. “I mean, it’s not like we’re sitting around the fire every night braiding each other’s hair, but we’ve spoken a bit.
You still butt-hurt about the hot springs?
I personally think you might have over-analyzed the situation.
You should try being more obvious that you’re into him.
” Jo waggles her eyebrows at me. If you only knew.
I realize I haven’t updated Jo about what’s been going on with Shayne in days.
She doesn’t know about the flirty conversation on her porch that led to the (hot) mask lick that led to last night’s full body lick.
Normally, she would have known seconds after we shared so much as a head nod, but to say her plate is already full is an understatement.
She doesn’t need to add my romantic blunders to her list of things.
Couple that with not knowing what his intentions on the ranch are…
I don’t want to worry her about anything else.
I have to figure out what Shayne’s deal is before I bring this mess to her attention.
“Does he ever give you the vibe that he’s hiding something?”
“Hiding something? Are you worried he has a girlfriend? He doesn’t. I asked.” I’m annoyed at the pitter-patter my heart does hearing that he’s single. Focus Paige. You could have slept with the enemy!
“Just because you asked doesn’t mean he was honest with you. He could easily be hiding a wife and kids…What’s his last name?” I ask, mentally patting myself on the back. Smooth operator.
Jo scoffs at me. “Why are you always so suspicious of everyone? Shayne seems like a genuinely nice person. His last name is Donovan.”
“I read too much, and it’s taught me that everyone always has an ulterior motive. Shayne Donovan? Never trust a man with two first names. That’s the perfect name for a criminal.”
“Fiction. You read too much fiction. Fiction needs conflict. Life needs less conflict. Hey, I have an idea! Come over for dinner on Friday. I’ll invite Shayne Donovan—the wrangler, not the criminal.
Maybe sparks will fly after I talk his ear off about how amazing you are all week, and you’ll get an extra special dessert.
” Jo waggles her hips suggestively. Normally, I’d laugh at her acting a fool, but all I can muster is a half-smile. I hate having secrets between us.
Jo stops gyrating and frowns. “I know all I do is invite you over to my house, and that makes me a very boring friend, but with Andy…where he is…I don’t have anywhere to put Kody—”
“Stop, you know I love being at your place,” I lean forward and rub her arm reassuringly. “But do you really want to host an awkward dinner in the midst of everything else you have going on?”
“It’ll give me something to do besides obsess about my own problems.” Jo’s tone is light, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s far from joking about that last bit.
Being around Shayne is going to be awkward as hell after last night, but I do need to ask him about Jo’s office.
Also, I’ll have four days to prepare for facing him again.
Jo can distract herself by playing matchmaker—it’s not her fault she doesn’t know that match has already flamed out.
This isn’t the strongest plan I’ve ever had, but it does seem doable and hopefully not too painful.
“Friday dinner it is. Prepare to fill a lot of long drawn-out silences. Let me know if there’s anything you want me to bring.” I pull her in for a hug, and she melts against me. I hate seeing her so depleted and wish there was something more I could do to make her life easier.
“A rewind button if you have one handy? See you Friday, love.” She pulls away, giving me a soft smile before turning to leave the shop.
A woman pulls open the door just as Jo is about to leave, and they have the awkward you-go-no-you-go dance for a moment.
They finally manage to trade places after several cringe-worthy attempts to get by one another that I can’t help but smile at.
When the door clicks shut, I offer a greeting to the woman who nods politely and then proceeds to peruse the aisles.
“Let me know if I can help you find anything,” I say with a smile. She shyly meets my gaze, nods, and continues to browse. After about five minutes, she walks over to the register with a box of cards from our small stationary section.
“What brings you to Silvercreek?” I ask as I ring up her purchase.
“Is it that obvious I’m not from around here?
” she answers, a slight blush forming on her cheeks.
She clearly isn’t comfortable talking with strangers, which is something I struggled with for ages too and makes me feel empathetic towards her.
It was my least favorite part of working in the store as a teenager.
Thankfully, I’ve gotten over it, otherwise I’d be a shit bookseller.
I love getting the chance to hear random stories now.
“Silvercreek is a small town. An unfamiliar face, especially during the week, always gets noticed. Are you in town visiting friends?” Her eyes widen slightly, and her blush intensifies, and I feel bad making her uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so nosy. I forget myself in front of a new face sometimes.”
“No, it’s okay. Yes, I’m in town visiting friends. It’s such a cute place. You’re lucky to live here.”
“Well, enjoy your visit, and thanks for stopping in.” I hand her the bag with her cards. She gives me another shy smile and turns to walk out of the door, thankfully without interference this time.
The store is empty again, and without the distraction of a customer, my mind returns to Shayne again, of course.
The sun through the front window catches my eye.
It glints sharply off the glass of Nana’s portrait, making my eyes sting.
A little heavenly ‘get it together, Paige’ from my favorite lady.
I’m filled with an intense longing for her cantankerous presence.
I wish she was here to bounce ideas off of.
She’d tell me the truth—whether I wanted to hear it or not.
Nana, am I being ridiculous? What should I do about Shayne?
“What’s ridiculous, Paige Marion O’Flynn, is that you’re talking to your dead Nana instead of focusing on your work,” her lilting Irish brogue sounds in my mind. I can almost smell the white-rose-scented oil she swore by.
“But since you’ve asked—that man of yours is absolutely trouble, but whether or not it’s the good kind or the bad kind remains to be seen.
I’m just happy to see you taking risks. Let yourself live again, my sweet girl.
And dust those shelves in the back. I can see the layer of grime from all the way up here. ”
As much as I’m warmed by my imaginary Nana’s presence, this conversation hasn’t helped in the slightest. But I do grab a duster from underneath the register and dust the top of the back wall of shelves.