Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Greyson
The minute we pulled out of the airport parking lot, Paisley started picking her fingernails. The dull pick pick pick filled the cab with nervous energy. Her hands tremored as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. Her head swiveled back and forth, trying to take everything in.
I knew this woman. And she was inwardly panicking. I ached to reach across the bench seat and lace our fingers, stilling the jagged fidgeting. Rest my hand on her knee, bouncing like Tigger.
But she wouldn’t welcome my advances. Hadn’t up to this point. And yet . . . I couldn’t let her stew over there alone. Especially not when I noticed the blood smear on her fingers. She’d torn the nail off too close.
Cautiously, I set my hand on her knee. The shaking instantly stopped, but she flinched. I didn’t move my hand this time.
She stared at me, soft eyes widening. “Were we supposed to be there? In Charlotte?” she asked, leg twitching under my touch. “Did I mess that up for you? I’m really sorry. You could have still gone. I wouldn’t have minded. And—”
“Paisley,” I whispered her name like a caress, trying to slow her spiraling panic. Show her I wasn’t upset. I gently squeezed her knee, carefully rubbing my thumb in a circle over her navy polka-dotted dress. I waited for her to reject me. Shake me off. Swat my hand.
But she didn’t. Her shoulders relaxed, and my chest eased a fraction.
Mama D and Pops were in Charlotte with Cal’s four-year-old daughter, Khia, who Paisley couldn’t remember even after Juliet had shown her pictures. “No, we weren’t going to Charlotte.”
Paisley sighed in relief. “Good. I think I hate flying.”
“You do.”
“Yeah?” She glanced at me. “I’ve done it?”
“You came to see me in South Carolina when I was stationed down there.” Shoulder checking, I changed lanes. “It was your first flight, and you did it solo like a pro.”
Pink stained her cheeks at the praise. “Guess I’m not such a coward then, Jared.”
She stiffened.
I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
Then she was pulling out of my reach. Like she remembered there was another man in her life. Even though he was long gone.
“You were never a coward, Pais,” I said roughly, anger at her ex smoldering under my ribs. “Never.”
“Then why did he think I was?” she whispered to herself.
Pain spasmed in my chest. As much as I wanted her to remember this, I hated that the pain of the past was seeping back, too. “Because he was an idiot.”
When she didn’t reply, I decided a change in conversation might help. “My parents are having a barbecue this weekend to celebrate the end of the playoffs. Would you be up for going?”
Paisley bristled and shot me a look. “I’m not an invalid.”
“I’m not trying to treat you like one.” I shrugged. “You don’t like crowds on a good day, so I didn’t want to assume.”
“Would I have gone before the accident?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll go.”
A smile tugged at my lips. Scrappy Paisley was one of my favourite versions. Right behind Bookish Paisley. And Sleepy Paisley. And really all versions of the woman.
“We’ll have to make a stop at the grocery store then.”
Paisley nodded. “Fine.” A pause. “Can I cook? Like, do I have those skills? Because my last cooking memory involves a ton of smoke and cute firemen in uniforms.”
I choked on a laugh, and I’d be lying to deny the stupid swirl of jealousy that shot through me. Maybe I needed to accidently try on my dress blues again and see if she thought I was cute in them. She’d certainly appreciated them in the past.
“You can cook,” I said when I could talk again.
“Guess we’ll find out if those skills stuck,” she grumbled.
“I’ve got Shane on speed dial,” I teased. “He’s the fire chief now.”
Paisley groaned. “Of course he is. All you Satterfield boys and your hero complexes.”
Hero. The word sat heavy in my gut. It tasted all wrong and made my skin itch.
If only she remembered the truth.