All He Ever Needed (17 page)

“Do you really think you’ll sell it?”

He still wasn’t sure. And he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Being able to logically understand Josh’s point of view didn’t squash the emotional attachment he felt to the old place. “I don’t know. Maybe just having a choice will be enough for him. Maybe, if he can stick it out until the ATV crowd discovers us, we can hire a manager. We wouldn’t want Rosie there alone. Or we might sell it.”

“None of you want to run it?”

“I’ve got my hands full with my own company. So does Ryan. Sean never liked living in an inn with strangers coming and going, plus Emma—his wife—owns a landscaping design business that’s pretty successful.”

“What about your sister? Couldn’t her boyfriend do his art here?”

“I’m not sure if Liz will ever come home to stay. I doubt it. Maybe if she ever smartens up and dumps the deadbeat loser, but he won’t move back here.”

Paige poked him with her elbow. “Gee, I wonder why.”

“We’re her brothers. It’s our job to not like deadbeat losers who work her into the ground so he can afford to sit on his ass all day, staring at three pieces of scrap metal, and call it ‘contemplating his art.’”

“She’s been with him a long time.
She
must like him.”

“I guess she loves him. But we don’t.”

“So…not much chance of them running the Northern Star, then.”

“Her? Hell yes.
Them
? I’d burn it down first.”

“We should talk about something more cheerful.”

“If you had a television, we could watch cartoons.”

“You’re a funny guy.”

Mitch slid his hands down her stomach, then moved them just a little lower. “How about we go in the bedroom and come up with fun stuff to do.”

They had no trouble doing that. Paige was an incredibly fun lover and he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of feeling her touch or watching her face or hearing her laugh.

Tonight she was in a particularly tender mood, so he took his time, savoring every inch of her body before making slow love to her. He loved the way she said his name, her body arching under his as she begged him for more.

Afterward, he held her in the position the size of the bed forced on them, but that he didn’t mind. Lying mostly on his back, with Paige on her side. Her head rested on his shoulder and he ran his hand lazily up and down her back.

He was comfortable and tired after the night before with Drew and he liked the feel of Paige pressed up against him. “Hey.”

“Mmm?” She was already half-asleep.

“I’m pretty beat. Do you mind if I stay tonight?”

She burrowed a little closer to him. “Stay.”

To hell with the rules. Just this once wouldn’t change anything. It was late and he’d battled a hangover all morning, that was all. The fact Paige’s body molded so perfectly to his had nothing to do with it.

Chapter Seventeen

Katie had only been three or four when Rose had given up on the idea of dressing her daughter in pink bows and fancy shoes. Jeans, T-shirts and ball caps. She’d played baseball with the boys in the park and the only thing she’d ever used her Easy-Bake oven for was a failed attempt to melt down some silverware she nicked from the kitchen so she could make BBs for her slingshot. Katie was born a tomboy and she’d never outgrown it.

She’d even taken over the barbershop that had been Earle’s pride and joy, working hard to maintain the high standards her father had set. That’s why, when Rose looked out the window and saw her daughter’s ancient Jeep coming up the drive in the middle of a Wednesday, fear gripped her. Something had to be wrong.

Rose made it to the front porch just as her daughter climbed out of the Wrangler. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Mom. Thought I’d stop by and visit for a few minutes.”

“Just like that?” Something was wrong. She could sense it, despite Katie’s carefree tone.

“Just like that.”

“What about the shop?”

Katie shrugged. “I put the Closed sign up with a note I’d be back in an hour or two. It’s a slow time and if I miss somebody, he’ll get over it or drive at least fifteen minutes in some other direction to get his hair cut.”

Rose led the way into the kitchen, which was where she did most of her visiting. Once she was there, she’d intended to offer Katie some lunch, but she couldn’t stand not knowing what had prompted the impromptu visit.

“Tell me why you’re here, honey.”

Katie twisted her key ring around her finger and didn’t quite look her in the eye. “Why do you hate Andy Miller so much?”

Rose’s body stiffened and her mind whirled, trying to remember the words she’d used in the past to pacify her daughter’s curiosity. “I don’t hate him. We’re just not friends, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes people just don’t become friends, Katie. It’s not a big deal.”

“You used to be friends. I remember when I was a little girl, he was always around. I called him Uncle Andy. Then it stopped. And whenever I asked about him, you changed the subject or put me off.”

“It was a long time ago. Do you want something to eat? I haven’t baked anything, but—”

“You haven’t baked anything because you won’t do anything for the boys since they hired Andy. That’s a lot of animosity, Mom, and when there’s that much animosity between a woman and a man, it usually involves sex.”

She didn’t want to talk about this with her daughter. Not now. Not ever. “I’ve never had sex with Andy Miller, I can tell you that.”

“Then what, Mom? What happened when I was little that’s made you hate him for almost thirty years?”

Rosie wasn’t going to get out of it this time. Katie wasn’t going to be distracted with a snack or fall for a change of subject. She took a deep breath and folded her hands in front of her. “Andy and your father went away one weekend when you were seven, to go sledding. Andy met some women at a bar and talked them into coming back to their motel room and…your father was unfaithful.”

Katie sat down hard in a chair, her brown eyes—the same shade as Earle’s—wide in the shadow of her cap’s brim. “Are you sure? Did he tell you that?”

The last thing Rosie wanted to do was say anything hurtful about Katie’s dad. They’d been so close and Katie treasured Earle’s memory. “He did. Shortly after they got home.”

“But you forgave him. I mean, you stayed with him and you seemed happy together.”

Rosie sat down and reached across the table for her daughter’s hand. “We
were
happy, honey. We really were. And, yes, I forgave him. It was hard at first, but your father was a good man and he beat himself up so badly about it, I was pretty sure he’d never do it again. As far as I know, he never did. Only that one time he went away with Andy.”

“You blame Andy.” It wasn’t a question.

“He knew your father loved you and me more than anything, but Andy still practically threw a woman at him. It was disrespectful.”

Her daughter didn’t say anything, just stared down at their linked hands. Rose was quiet, letting Katie absorb the news. She was old enough to have outgrown believing her parents were anything but human, but committing adultery was a far cry from fibbing about what had happened to her first dog.

“It’s not really Andy’s fault.” Katie’s voice was thick with emotion. “Dad was responsible for what he did. Nobody else.”

“One thing love’s not known for is making a person rational. And neither is hate.”

“I can’t believe Dad cheated on you.”

Rosie squeezed her hand. “Don’t let that change how you remember him, Katherine. Don’t you dare. I went through a lot of heartache to put our family back together again so you wouldn’t be hurt by what happened. We loved each other and we loved you. That’s all that matters.”

“If you’d truly forgiven Dad, you wouldn’t still be punishing Andy.”

Her daughter’s words cut through Rose like a hot knife, but she barely had time to process how she felt about them before she heard the telltale thump of approaching crutches on the back porch.

Katie straightened in her seat, pulling her hand free, as Josh came through the kitchen door, knocking it closed behind him with the end of a crutch. “Hey, Katie. Thought that piece of shit in the driveway must be yours.”

“She’s still got fewer miles on it than your last girlfriend.”

“Bite me. Hey, did you see the game last night?”

“I told you our bullpen’s not strong enough to close it out if we go deep into extra innings.”

“But we put up a hell of a fight.”

Rosie rolled her eyes at the familiar back-and-forth between these two, but when Josh leaned into the fridge to search for whatever he was in the mood for, she caught Katie watching him and her maternal radar pinged.

It wasn’t a strong ping, though. Rosie would love nothing more than for Katie to get married and start a family. Mary’s constant barrage of grandbaby pictures from New Hampshire didn’t help her yearning for grandchildren any. And the thought of Josh being her son-in-law rather than just a son of her heart almost made her weep. But Josh had always treated Katie like one of the guys and he didn’t seem inclined to see her any other way.

When he started hauling out the makings for deli sandwiches from the fridge, Katie stood. “I should get back. God only knows what disaster the town’s come up with to explain the barbershop being closed.”

“Where’s the mustard?”

Rose ignored Josh and went around the table to hug her daughter.

“Think about what I said, Mom,” Katie whispered into her hair.

“I will. And I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you, too. See ya, Josh.”

“Later. Hey, Rosie, did you hide the mustard?”

Once Katie left, she found the mustard, which was hiding next to the ketchup in the door, and then, because she was feeling a little soft at the moment, she made him a couple of sandwiches.

“Josh, do you know what color Katie’s eyes are?”

Not surprisingly, he looked confused by the question. He squinted and she realized he was trying to cheat by looking at
her
eyes. “Uh, brown?”

She shook her head and started putting the sandwich stuff back in the fridge. Katie’s eyes were blue. Not as brilliant as the Kowalskis’ eyes, but a pretty pale blue like her father’s. She’d teased Earle more than once about their daughter being so much like him she’d even managed to buck the odds and get his recessive gene.

Josh was probably hopeless and Sean lived just far enough away to keep visits infrequent, so it looked like Rose’s best bet for having a baby to hold, even if it wasn’t technically her grandchild, might be Mitch. Now if she could only figure out which one of them was throwing a monkey wrench in the works.

* * *

Paige hummed happy love songs as she moved through her trailer, mentally checking things off her cleaning to-do list. She’d been humming all day, actually, which had annoyed Carl to no end, but she couldn’t help it.

Waking up in Mitch’s arms had gotten her day off to an amazing start and nothing had been able to dent her good mood. Not even Mitch’s grumbling when he realized he was awake at four-thirty in the morning.

He’d shown up for a quick breakfast about seven and then kissed her goodbye right in the middle of the diner before he went back to the lodge. Now she figured she had another two hours or so before he came back again, and she intended to put it to good use decluttering.

The cheery romantic sound track in her head came to a screeching halt when she checked the calendar to make sure she’d written “movie night” on it and noticed the date. Josh was having his cast off in six days. Katie had mentioned the date and Paige had written a note so she’d remember to ask Mitch how it went.

It was less than a week away. Of course, nothing said Mitch was going to get on his bike and ride out of Whitford the second the doctor shut off the saw, but he wouldn’t stay long.

Things had changed between them, maybe enough so he’d consider asking her to go with him. Maybe even enough so she’d consider saying yes.

Nothing said she had to sell the diner. Ava could run it on a day-to-day level with Carl’s help and, thanks to the wonders of modern communication, Paige could handle the administrative end of things from a distance. And it would be a good excuse to spend a long weekend at the lodge once a month or so.

The trailer she was less sure about. She couldn’t sell it without going through the legal hassle of dividing the land it sat on from the diner’s—assuming the property was even big enough to be subdivided at all. Maybe she could rent it out. To a single person, of course. Preferably one with no pets.

She was compiling a mental list of admirable qualities in a tenant when her cell phone rang, and the name on the caller ID screen made her stomach drop. It was her mother and the word
Donna
flashing at her was like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

Her mother. The woman who’d dropped everything to chase after a man more times than Paige could count. Just as she herself had been considering doing mere seconds before.

Mitch had made it perfectly clear he had no interest in a relationship beyond his short stay in Whitford, but there she was anyway, mentally walking away from her business and renting out her home so she could follow him to New York City. Ready to drop everything for pretty blue eyes and a charming smile.

When the phone chimed its missed-call signal, Paige realized she’d been standing there staring at it. She tossed it onto the table and rubbed her palms on her jeans. Her mother could wait.

What the hell was she doing?

Before she could change her mind, she picked the phone back up and dialed Mitch’s number, breathing a sigh of relief when it went straight to voice mail.

“Hi, it’s me. Something came up and I won’t be around tonight, but I’ll catch you later.” There was nothing else to say, so she hit End.

Then, before the shock could wear off, she gathered up all her paperwork and shoved it in a bag. There was a tiny closet of an office at the diner and she’d use it. The diner and the produce order and the constant debate between Styrofoam and paper were her reality, not some fling she’d overinflated into an epic romance in her imagination.

She walked across the lot, letting herself in the back door to avoid being seen. Gavin saw her, but he only waved when she gestured she’d be in her office. It was time to catch up on the important things she’d neglected while running around with Mitch.

And if she closed and locked the office door, she might even let herself have a good cry.

* * *

Mitch leaned the bike through the corner, letting it eat up the miles as the roar of the engine soothed his thoughts. He’d been cruising for an hour with no destination in mind. Just taking turns as the mood struck.

Time to head home, though. Since he wasn’t seeing Paige tonight, he’d spend some time going over the plans for the lodge some more. Grandmaison was willing to let them run across the corner of his property as long as he got to oversee the where and the how much.

If he got enough of the legwork done, there was a possibility the lodge could start taking in a steady stream of summer customers as early as May, when the trails officially opened. If they had a good winter and the snowmobilers loosened their wallets, it would be enough to get the lodge back into fighting shape, financially.

But thinking too much about the lodge made him think about the possibility they’d be selling it, and that wasn’t a topic for a summer Harley ride. Neither was Paige, who’d sounded odd in the message that had so casually canceled their evening together.

He twisted the throttle, forcing himself to concentrate on the road instead of the people who were mucking up his life. Nothing but him and the bike and the wind rushing past.

And the police car he didn’t see in time.

He found a safe place to pull over—his days of outrunning cops long past—and leaned the bike over onto its stand so he could dig out his wallet.
Please don’t be Bob Durgin. Please don’t be Bob Durgin
.

In the bike’s mirror, Mitch watched Bob Durgin get out of the cruiser and use his gun belt to hitch his pants up. Great. He wondered how much a ticket for eight miles per hour over the speed limit plus everything he’d ever done wrong during his childhood would cost him.

“You in a hurry?”

“No, sir.” He sat on the bike so he wouldn’t tower over the old cop too much. “I was enjoying the weather and got a little carried away.”

“You Kowalskis have always gotten a little carried away.”

This wasn’t Mitch’s first traffic stop. He knew it was best to be polite to the cop, who was just doing his job, and neither offer lame excuses nor get belligerent. But Durgin was too much. “We got carried away sometimes when we were young and stupid. Most kids do. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and take shit from you because
you
lost control of the new cruiser and rolled it into a ball. I’m not a kid anymore and I’m not going to be spoken to like one. Write me the damn ticket and get on with your life.”