Authors: Riley Sinclair
The doorbell sounded when she was only halfway down the stairs and she caught a glimpse of a familiar tall form through the frosted glass. Her heart rate kicked up a notch.
What was he doing here?
She hurried to the door.
“Erik what-oh,” She paused, looking behind him. “Hi Gene, hi Erin.” She nodded politely before opening the door to admit Erik and his parents.
“Come in, make yourself comfortable.” She smiled at his parents and gestured toward the dining room before grabbing Erik’s arm and pulling him down the hall and into the study.
“I can’t believe you had the nerve to show up here for dinner-and bring your parents with, no less!”
“I had no choice.” His eyes dared her to argue.
“No choice? Are you kidding me?”
“I haven’t told them yet.”
“So? You could have said I was sick. Or busy-anything. I don’t believe your nerve.” She chastised.
“You can believe what you want to, I really don’t give a damn, Paige.” His hand cut a harsh swatch through the air that fairly crackled between them. He remained facing her, his vivid gaze never leaving her face.
“Good,” She sneered, “Because I quit
giving a damn
about you a long time ago.”
“Liar.” He challenged.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He said roughly.
“Fine.” She bit out when he didn’t speak again. “But I’ll be damned if I understand why I have to act as though I like you.”
“Don’t argue.” He nudged her in the direction of the kitchen. “Just go. Let’s get this over with.”
“Very well then,” She extended her hand, “After you.” His damnable self-assurance was making her nervous. She would not relax her guard until she saw him and his parents safely out of her house, with a locked door between her and them.
“Gene, Erin, what a surprise.” Paige’s voice fell flat as she followed Erik’s broad form into the formal dining room.
"Sit down." Erik nudged her shoulder roughly.
She bit back a retort; instead taking her seat with as much grace as she could muster. Reminding herself that it wasn’t Erik’s parents fault that he was such a rotten asshole helped somewhat.
“Is this a bad time?” Erik’s mother frowned, her brow furrowing in her smooth, slightly lined face. Her sky blue eyes, Erik’s eyes, radiated concern and Paige felt her anger begin to thaw.
“No, of course not,” She assured the attractive couple in a smooth tone. “It’s been such a busy day that I’m running a little behind. If you’ll give me five
minutes, I’ll have the table set. I hope chili is okay.”
“Chili will be fine, dear.” Erin waved away the remnants of Paige’s concern and reclaimed the high back next to her husband at the dark mahogany dining table, politely refraining from giving note to Paige’s pale, drawn look, or to the faint shadows under her eyes.
“I’ll help you.” Erik was moving beside her in an instant, ignoring the dirty look she threw at him and walking too close behind her all the way to the oversize kitchen.
She would have argued with him, told him she didn’t need help-and probably thrown in a snide remark or two, but she didn’t want to alarm her unexpected dinner guests. Erik’s parents were basically good people, though his father could be a little on the stern side, and she genuinely liked them both. Once they cleared the kitchen doorway, though, all bets were off. She rounded on him, all the pent up frustration and anger shooting to the surface, and tossed his arm off of her elbow.
“I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t need it.” She hissed.
“Tough shit.”
“I mean it, Erik, I don’t need this aggravation. Go back to the dining room and entertain your parents while I whip up dinner for four.” His parents were luckier than they knew that she had opted to make a pot of chili on this particular evening. Anything in a pot had to be able to feed an army, didn’t it? Was there even such a thing as a
small
pot of chili? Paige didn’t think so.
“I told you before, I want to get this evening over with, and the sooner the better. Just let me help you with the damn food.”
“Finally something we agree on.” She muttered, moving to the stove and carefully lifting the stainless steel lid from the matching pot. She angled slightly away for a moment, holding the lid stiffly at an angle as plumes of steam rose off the chili and dispersed into the air, carrying with it the scent of heaven. "Here." She thrust a stack of bowls at him.
“Smells good.” Erik nodded his approval and did his part to help by holding the large soup bowls out for her to fill.
“My chili is always good.” Her chin came up a notch, and she purposely avoided glancing in Erik’s direction as she filled a tray with the now full dishes.
“I didn’t say that it wasn’t.”
“Did I say you did?”
“Look,” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here. But can we at least pretend that everything is normal?”
And that was probably the core of the issue, she reflected, eyeing him over kitchen island; he was good at pretending. Too good. “Fine.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Yeah.”
“So, what else?” He asked, turning back to the food.
“Crackers, salt, and pepper go on that tray over there.” She sighed, pointing to one of several shelves that lined the wall near the hanging racks.
“Got it. Anything else?”
“Nope. You carry the condiments, I’ll get the food.”
“No, switch me.” He argued. “I’ll take the food and you carry the crackers.”
“Why? I’ve already got the food.” She tossed over her shoulder without pausing.
“Paige, get back here. That’s heavy.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She huffed, entering the dining room full steam ahead. Her expression eased somewhat when she noticed the way Erik’s parents drew back a little.
“Is everything okay?” Erin bit her lip and craned her neck
to view her son standing behind a very pissed off looking Paige.
“Fine.” Paige bared her teeth in a smile.
“Great.” Erik gave Paige a wide berth and slammed the tray full of crackers and spices onto the table, causing a few stray wafers to flip off out of the stainless bowl and skitter across the high polished table.
“Well, really, Erik.” His father complained, both hands coming up to grip the table in front of him.
“Dinner is served.” Paige announced with a scowl, plunking her own tray down and brushing at the mess of crumbs Erik had made before turning to pass out the individual bowls to her guests. “This table is gorgeous, but anything with this much sheen to it makes the littlest mess appear that much worse, don’t you think?” She rattled on in a last ditch attempt at being a good hostess.
“Are you absolutely certain this is a good time?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?” Paige took her own seat and smiled across the table at Erik’s mother, barely noticing the way the woman’s eyes widened as Paige scooted her chair in closer to the table, wood scraping ominously on wood.
“It’s just that, we are getting the feeling that you and my son are not getting along so well this evening. If there’s something you both want to talk about…” She trailed off, looking back and forth between her son and the girl whom she’d known for almost twenty years.
“Now, Erin, I’m sure the kids don’t want the two of us intruding on their personal business.” Gene hurried to fill the silence before either his son or Paige could speak, desperate as usual to avoid an emotional scene.
He could have rested assured; because Paige had no intention of being so rude as to discuss her and Erik’s personal conflicts and shortcomings over the dinner table with his parents, no less. Erik, on the other hand, obviously felt no such scruples. A feral light came into his eyes as he met Paige’s stare across the table.
Her own eyes narrowed in a silent warning that went ignored and unheeded when, a moment later, when Erik opened his mouth to speak.
“Thank you, mother, but I don’t think you can help with this particular problem.”
“Oh, well…” The older woman stammered, her spoon pausing halfway to her mouth, “I hate to see the two of you fighting. You’ve been such good friends all of these years.”
Paige’s eyes slid away at that statement.
“Yes, well, if you must know the truth, Paige and I have recently decided to part ways. So there you have it,” Erik shrugged and downed a spoonful of chili with apparent relish, “This dinner will probably be the last time we see each other. More iced tea?” He inquired with a polite but strained smile.
“Oh…”
“Well.” Gene cleared his throat.
“Erik, I really don’t think your parents are interested in hearing about our problems.” Paige said, coming to the older couple’s rescue, much to Gene’s visible relief. “And even if they are,” She continued with a glance toward Erin, “I highly doubt that this is the time or the place to air our dirty laundry.”
“This is damn fine chili, Paige.” Gene cleared his throat before making a show of taking a bite and nodding his head. “You’re a wonderful cook.”
“Yes, Paige is good at a great many number of things. A regular jack of all trades.” Erik’s snidely spoken remark drew all eyes his way once again.
“Erik.” Gene said in warning.
The table fell silent once again, much to Paige’s relief, and probably Erin’s as well, she thought with a covert glance at the woman. Erik’s mother was a sweet, kind hearted woman but she had been one hundred percent correct in her earlier assessment. She really didn’t want to know the ugly, gory details of the war that raged on between Erik and herself.
Paige smothered a sigh and lifted her water glass to her lips with a hand that shook only a little. Deep down, though she didn’t readily admit it now, she still loathed conflict. Some people loved a good fight, but she wasn’t one of them. Never had been and never would be, she reflected, wincing at the abnormally loud clink her glass made when she set it back down on the table a moment later.
Her gaze slid briefly to Erik’s half hunched over form, his head bowed over his food. That didn’t mean she would run from it anymore, she thought, eyes narrowing. Erik had wronged her in a big way and if he thought she was being unreasonable in her anger, well, that was just too damn bad.
She was still reeling from his betrayal…among other things. The way she figured it, she could probably make a mile long list of the things that had her reeling as of late. Topping the list would be Erik’s bombshell that he had lied about being gay. Their night of debauchery would be a close second, if not an all-out tie for the number one spot.
She kept remembering things she wished she could physically blot from her mind, like how his chest had felt hot and hard and taut against her lips. Her eyes left his form for another brief moment as the memory of how she had clung to him, took center stage in her mind. To her abject humiliation, that night played through her mind like an x rated slide show, each erotic image racier than the one before it. The way she had felt his shirt molded to his body, the heat that had ensued once he took it off…
the blindfold…She drew a deep breath and told herself to stop.
Rehashing the details of their lovemaking would serve no real purpose, but it seemed she could do nothing about it. It was impossible not to remember how he felt inside her, how deliciously bad she’d felt when he had lifted her against the wall in this house, as if he were so out of his mind with wanting her, he couldn’t wait to take her to a bedroom-only his surefootedness kept them from toppling to the floor in a heap because from that moment on she had been out of her mind and along for the ride.
It was jarring to reconcile the most incredible night of her life with the betrayal Erik had slammed her with less than twenty-four hours later. Paige’s mouth formed a startled oval when she realized Erik was no longer hunched over the table, but staring right back at her. Worse, she could tell by the alertness, the watchfulness in his expression that he had a good idea of the direction her thoughts had taken.
“Excuse us.”
The words were forced from a jaw that looked to be clenched tight enough to cut granite, but Paige refused to feel intimidated. “Yes,
excuse us
, please.” She repeated the terse instruction to his shocked parents and stomped out of the dining hall hot on Erik’s heels. “It’ll be a cold day in hell when you scare me, so don’t even try it.”
“You’re scary enough for the both of us.” He snorted, leading the way into the study at the far end of the house and slamming the door behind them.
“Go to hell.” She fired back, whirling to move past him in order to open the door and slam it herself. That would show him, she fumed. No one pushed Paige Frey around-
no one
. Erik of all people should have been well versed in that fact by now.
“Oh grow up.” His eyes raked over her in a single scathing glance.