As I make my way downstairs, a topless woman is coming up. She pushes her tits my way. She’s a bottle blonde with dark roots showing. Her boobs are so plastic, she literally bounces back when she bumps me with them. “Where you going? You just got here.” She gives me an overly happy smile. “If you can wait just a few minutes, I’ll get off. And then we can go and get off.”
Despite all the artifice, she’s a good-looking woman. And if I’d run into her a month ago, maybe I would’ve said yes. But now I’m just not interested. She doesn’t have the softness or the natural curves that heat my blood.
And that’s another reason things seem hopeless. I can’t even interest myself in other women. I don’t know if it’s the promise I made Paige about being faithful so long as we’re together—I’ve never broken a promise to anyone—or something else…but a part of me broods in bitterness as I drive home.
Chapter Five
Paige
I should probably go to bed and get some rest, but I can’t seem to get my brain to cut off. I sit up after a while and make my way downstairs. Simon and Mom are leaving for Sweet Hope tomorrow. Instead of stewing in bed, I should spend some time with them. Mom is a night owl after all.
My hip is better as I walk to the guest-house where Simon and Mom are staying. Ryder’s magic ointment seems to be working.
As I walk through the massive garden, I can’t help but feel a slight bit of regret that I ended up ruining what could’ve been a nice moment. I know I did the right thing by airing out what’s been festering between us, but the part of me that prefers to bury my head in the sand would’ve been happier if we’d just made out and faked everything.
After all, our current relationship is fake. What’s one more bit of fakery on top of a towering cake of fakeness?
I ring the door at the guest-house. The light is on in the main living room. Despite the unpretentious name, the place is a mini-mansion with multiple suites and a full-time housekeeper. The door opens and reveals my mom in a housedress with a pink and yellow flower design. “Paige! I didn’t know you were still up.”
“Couldn’t fall asleep. Is Simon up too?”
She shakes her head. “Dead to the world. He was wiped out from sightseeing today. Ryder’s people did a great job of setting everything up so it wasn’t overly tiring, and we got to see a lot of what we’ve always wanted to see. But you know how Simon is. Doesn’t do well without his routines.”
I grin. Simon is such an influence in my life, but sometimes he reminds me of a child.
“And you?” She searches my face. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, sure. Fine.”
She frowns. I don’t think she buys that at all. But then I guess that’s what makes her a mother. “Want to take a walk?” she asks.
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Oh, I can manage a midnight stroll. I’m younger than your father after all.”
That makes me chuckle. “Okay. Let’s go.”
She puts a hand in the crook of my arm. The garden is dark except for lamps set in elaborate knee-high wrought iron posts. We walk side-by-side on the pebbled path that winds through rose bushes and other flowering plants I don’t know the name of.
“This is a gorgeous garden. And so functional, too.”
“Functional?”
“There’s a vegetable patch in the back. I also saw some herbs and berries.”
“Oh.”
“You never noticed?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve seen some of his garden, but never really explored the entire place here.”
We reach the man-made pond. The surface is covered with water lilies, and always reminds me of Monet. We sit on a bench, listening to the chirping of the night bugs.
“How are you holding up?” Mom asks.
“Great,” I say, trying for offhand cheer.
She gives me a stern, penetrating look, the kind that seems to peer into your soul.