Authors: Trisha Grace
“I’m serious. I can’t sprain my ankle anymore.”
He didn’t want to put her down, but he suddenly realized he was sweating from his run. Gently, he lowered her and only released her when she appeared stable on her feet. “Does it hurt?”
“A little, but it’ll go away.”
“You run fast,” he pointed out. He placed his hand under her elbow and led her back toward her house.
“I know.”
She wasn’t even panting or displaying a hint of exhaustion.
“Were you in the track team or something?”
“Long-distance runner.”
“That explains a lot.” He took in a deep breath and tried not to pant.
She walked alongside him, stopping the time on her digital watch. “I’ve been running for as long as I can remember. I’m sure I can’t do the weights you lift in the gym.”
“You don’t have to make me feel better. I know I’m fit. You,” he said, “you’re not normal.”
She chuckled softly.
“You’re not even sweating.”
“I just started running for,” she said and took a glance at her watch, “fifteen minutes. I run everyday.”
He took in another deep breath and nodded.
She laughed again.
“How did you get so fast?”
“I used to play catch all the time.” She smiled when she saw his brows raised. “My brother always roped me in when he plays catch with his friends. I was always the slowest, but I kept running with them almost everyday and soon I realized they weren’t catching me as easily as they used to.”
His lips curled. “You don’t look like someone who exercises.”
“Are you saying I’m fat?”
“No, you just don’t have the sporty look.”
She shrugged. “I can’t really do anything else besides running.”
He grinned at her sheepish smile. Paige didn’t fail to surprise him at every turn.
Even before seeing Paige, he had thought she was a selfish, old lady. Instead, she turned out to be this gorgeous woman with a smile he couldn’t take his eyes off.
He had thought she was a fearless woman to take over the town’s infamous haunted house, but her reaction to the blackout revealed a fear she had carefully concealed.
When he saw her in the rain, smiling and apologizing about her car, he’d thought she was this weak and demure lady. But here she was, sprinting through the streets without breaking a sweat.
“My ankle doesn’t hurt much now. You can go ahead if you want.”
And the one thing that surprised him the most was this chivalry she had managed to bring out of him.
Women had whined, cajoled, and tried all sorts of way to get him to care and be the prince charming they wanted him to be. But he knew he wasn’t a prince and never tried being one.
“Mrs. Seymour will kill me if she finds out that I got you hurt, then let you walk back on your own.”
“You didn’t get me hurt. I lost my footing.”
“She won’t care.”
She smiled ruefully as her gaze fell to the ground. “She reminds me of my mom.”
“Then I’m sure she’s a great mother.”
“She is.” Her grin softened into a small smile.
“You’re close to your mom.”
“Yeah, we’re a pretty close family.”
“Are they visiting anytime soon?”
She sighed softly. “No, I don’t think so.”
He watched as her brows drew closer, forming the etch between them.
“And you?” she suddenly asked. “Are you close with your family?”
“I haven’t seen my mom for years, and I never saw my dad before.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He walked her up to the Seymour’s door. “How’s your ankle?”
“Absolutely fine.” She tipped her toes down toward the floor and rotated her ankle. “See, perfectly fine.”
His lips curled. “This is the first time I’ve heard that you can sprain your ankle so many times that you become immune to it.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” She flashed another brilliant smile. “See you later.”
A walk from Justin’s to Travis’s house would take at most five minutes, but Justin didn’t want to risk meeting someone along the way. He wasn’t interested in talking to anyone else in town.
He parked his car outside Travis’s house and took the bag of muffins Mrs. Seymour had prepared for him.
“Breakfast?” Justin lifted the brown bag he was holding. “Mrs. Seymour’s muffins.”
“Great. I was intending to settle it with coffee.”
“How’s Amy?”
“She’s fine, but the doctor is keeping her for a few days.” Travis took the bag from Justin and pulled out a muffin, taking a bite. “Just to make sure everything is all right. So, the haunted house?”
“Lots of work. Bathrooms, floorings, kitchen cabinets.”
“Good. Can she wait for a couple of days?”
Justin strolled into the kitchen and Travis pointed at the pot of coffee before sitting by the dining table.
He took a cup and poured himself some. “I think she wants to begin work immediately. I’ll help get things started and you can take over when Amy is feeling better.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I have nothing much to do anyway. Just looking at houses over at Cheyenne.”
“She is hot, huh?” Travis commented and took another bite of the muffin.
“Why is everyone thinking that I’m helping only because she’s hot?”
Travis grunted. “You hate this place. Last night, I could tell you couldn’t wait to leave. Now, you’re volunteering to help.”
“To help
you
.”
“So this haunted-house-woman, is she hot?”
“Her name is Paige. And you’re married.”
“So she is.”
He was tempted to ask Travis what he knew about Paige. Travis must have heard something; even if he didn’t, Amy would have.
That was the thing about small towns.
Everyone knew something, or so they would say. There were always some gossip, some hearsay, making their rounds around town.
But he didn’t want to appear as if he was interested, which he wasn’t. He was simply curious.
“Do you want to give the quote yourself or do you trust me to do it?”
“You do it, and you keep the money.”
“Don’t be an idiot. It’s your job.” He stood and walked toward the door. “I’m not taking the money.”
“Just—”
“Look, if things were the other way around, I’m sure you’d do the same for me. So shut up and concentrate on taking care of your wife.” Justin opened the door. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“What? You’re not going to help me with the nursery first?”
“I’m helping you keep your job. I can’t help you with everything.” He grinned and strode toward his car.
He stopped his car behind Paige’s and headed over to the Seymours, thinking she would wait for him over there.
But Mrs. Seymour opened the door and informed him that Paige was already back in her own house, painting the walls inside. So he trudged over and knocked on the door, grinning when she opened the door with tiny dots of paint all over her face, hair, and the black T-shirt she was wearing. Her white earphones, connected to the phone in her back pocket, hung over her neck.
“What?” She brushed the back of her hand against her cheek. “Did I get it on my face?”
“It’s all over your face.” His eyes moved down and he saw the shorts she was wearing. He immediately noticed her long and toned legs.
Her hand flew up again. The action got his attention and he realized he was staring.
He reached out and caught her hand. “Forget it, it’s staying until you wash it off.”
She laughed softly, then shrugged. “Okay.” Stepping aside, she waved him in and headed up the steps.
“You’re painting the whole house by yourself?” Justin asked as he trailed behind her.
“Yeah. I’ve never done it before, thought it’ll be fun.”
“To do it alone?”
“I have time. You need time to fix up the bathroom anyway.”
They headed up the stairs into the bedroom. A large can of paint, a tray of white paint with a roller brush, and a water bottle were the only things in the room.
She had completed one of the walls. On one of the remaining walls, two lines were drawn, separating the wall into three different sections.
“It’s more motivating to paint when I focus on a small section, seems faster.”
She shouldn’t be doing it alone. She might not feel the exhaustion yet, but she would after a full day of painting.
Pushing that thought aside, he wrote down the measurements of the room and bathroom before proceeding to the next room.
They went from room to room and he took down everything she wanted fixed, recording the measurements in each room. Then, they went back to the living room, sat on the floor, and negotiated the price and payment method.
He didn’t want to overcharge her. He knew she still had to buy her furniture, but it was still Travis’s job. He wasn’t sure what her budget was, but she agreed without any haggling.
“You can make the check out to Travis.”
“I’ll pay in cash.”
Justin frowned. It wasn’t common for people to pay for renovations in cash.
“What about you? You’re not getting paid?” she asked with a frown.
He laughed at how concerned she looked. “Don’t worry about me; I won’t starve.”
Her lips puckered before she pressed them into a thin line. “I can pay you until Travis take over.”
“I thought you have a budget.”
“Not at your expense.”
He shook his head with a grin. “Stop frowning. Don’t worry about the money. I assure you that I’m good,” he said. “Now, is there anything else you want to fix?”
She hesitated for a moment, then continued. “Is it difficult to build a front deck like the Seymours?”
“Not really, but it could come up to a thousand dollars.”
“That’s fine. My mom’s house has a front porch and I loved it.”
“You want to have lunch together and head out to get the stuff you need?”
“I have lunch. You’re welcomed to join me.” She went into the kitchen and shouted over, “Mushroom pizza, four cheese pizza, carbonara, spaghetti bolognese. We can share the pizza if you want.”
He walked up to her, peering over her shoulders and into the freezer. “Frozen meals?”
“Still food.”
“No, it isn’t.” He pulled her back and close the freezer’s door. “Mrs. Seymour isn’t cooking?”
“I told her not to cook mine, I thought I’ll have a quick meal and go back to painting.”
“I’ll take you out for lunch. Why don’t you go over and wash up? We’ll have lunch then buy all the things I’ll need to start work.”
“I don’t want to burn your weekend. Just write down whatever you need me to buy, I’ll get it.”
“You won’t know which brand is better and all.”
“But I’ve to go shopping for clothes, and I’ll prefer to do it all in one trip.” She arched a brow and smiled mischievously. “You want to join me for that?”
“I don’t look forward to that, but I do need you to pick out the tiles, floorings, and all. So yeah, let’s get it all done in one trip.”
“You sure?”
He’d only gone shopping with a woman once. It was a torturous affair that he had no wish to repeat, but he could always wait for her at a coffee shop or something.
Still, he had to ask, “Will you take the whole day?”
“No. I’m pretty fast with shopping, too.”
Justin smirked. “That would be another first.”
One of her shoulders inched up. “You’ll see.”
They headed over to the Seymours and Justin waited for her to wash up and change. He thought that Mrs. Seymour would insist they stay for lunch, but when she heard they were going out for lunch together, she nodded without saying anything else.
“Do you want to change your floorings? Some of the corners have chipped.” he commented as he sat on the couch.
“No,” Mr. Seymour said. “We told you, we don’t need anything. Besides, you’ve been sending us those checks every month. You don’t owe us anything, Justin.”
He owed them everything.
They didn’t just give him food when he had nothing to eat. Though he wasn’t their son, the Seymours had always treated him like one.
His textbooks, shoes, clothes, stationery, and even the bicycle he had was given to him by the Seymours. They kept their eyes on him; they made sure he behaved in school and didn’t lack anything.
“I know, but I’m sure you can get some upgrade of certain things. Like that antique you have there.” He pointed to the old, bulky TV. “I can get you those plasma type, it’ll free up some space.”
“Whatever for? It’s working fine.”
“You don’t have to wait for it to stop working before getting a new one. That TV belongs to the museum. If the money isn’t enough, you can tell me.”
“It’s more than enough. We put most of it into the bank.”
“I sent those for you to spend.”
Mr. Seymour shrugged. “We don’t need anything.”
Justin suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
The Seymours weren’t rich. They didn’t have any children of their own, but they had to scrimp and save to buy him many of the things he had.
Now, he could afford to give them a better life.
He had tried giving them more money. But instead of keeping it or spending it, they would call him up, give him a good scolding, and tell him that they had torn and thrown the check away.
He didn’t understand why they didn’t allow him to treat them better.
“I’m ready.” Paige hopped down the stairs, her hair still slightly damp.
She wore a turquoise off-shoulder dress that seemed like a slightly oversized and way too long T-shirt. The dress ended just above her knees with a brown belt hanging across her hip. The soft material of the casual dress swayed with each step.
“Run along now. And don’t buy us anything.” Mrs. Seymour opened the door and waved them out.
He shook his head when Paige looked over at him. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure I’m not getting in the way of your plans or something?” Paige asked as she pulled her seat belt over her.
“I didn’t have plans,” Justin replied. “So, why don’t you like to talk about your past?” he asked, turning out of the street and heading toward the highway.