Fix Me Not Page 17

  He nods and, pushing him flat on his back, I straddle him. “I'm recovered.”

  Nineteen

  Asher

  “Surprise,” Paige exclaims as the Lincoln town car pulls into a marina.

  Glancing around, I'm not entirely certain what the surprise is. There appears to be a restaurant with a bar. Is that the surprise?

  Or, does she know someone with a boat here?

  When I don't reply, she explains, “Want to go sailing?”

  My hand slides into her hair as I pull her face to mine and kiss her deeply.

  She laughs when I break the kiss, and says, “I'll take that as a yes.”

  Leaning down ‘til my mouth is at her ear, my voice low. “And I'll take you later.”

  She sucks in a breath and I open my door. Our driver starts to go for her door but stops when I shake my head. Holding her door open, I offer her my hand. She's petite but in the shorts she's wearing, her legs seem miles long. From where I stand, I can fully appreciate the way she unfolds herself from the car.

  “Thank you.”

  I tug her close once she’s standing straight. “No, I'm the one who should be thanking you.”

  “I wanted to do something special for you. This will be the first time I’m not scared of being on a boat.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Scared?”

  “Before you taught me how to swim,” she explains.

  My gaze moves to the Hudson River. “This is nothing like swimming in a lake.”

  She grins up at me. “I’m not going to jump in or anything and we’re going to be wearing life jackets, silly. What I meant was, before you, just the thought of being out on the water would scare me. Now I can enjoy myself and I have you to thank for that.”

  Leaning down, I press my lips to her temple, happy for her. Paige feeling comfortable enough to go out on the water is awesome. It would have sucked to miss this.

  The city, the press of all the people, and being so far away from home is wearing on me. An afternoon out on a boat, just the two of us, is exactly what I need.

  Paige leads me down a wooden walkway to where a Hunter 340 waits for us.

  “Permission to come aboard,” Paige jokes when we reach the boat.

  “Granted young lady,” the captain replies reaching his hand out to help her step aboard. I follow her.

  After introductions were made, Captain Steve asks, “Where are we heading today?”

  Paige turns to me. “Want to sail over to the Statue of Liberty?”

  “Sure,” I reply, not really caring what we do, or where we go, just enjoying being with Paige alone.

  We slip on life vests and get comfortable as Captain Steve expertly navigates us out of the marina and onto the Hudson. There isn't a cloud in the sky, which means we’re not the only ones taking advantage of the beautiful day.

  Paige and I sit on a padded bench in front of the captain, a slight mist from the river dusting our cheeks.

  This is a great boat. I grip the metal railing and wonder if a 34-foot boat would be overkill for my small lake.

  Paige covers my hand with hers. “I've been dying to ask about the arch. How bad is the damage?”

  Frowning, I reply, “One entire section is destroyed beyond repair. I’ve removed the worst of it and am going to replace that chunk with a new piece of wood.”

  She grimaces. “But what about the carvings?”

  Pushing her hair back from her face, I marvel at the way the sunlight dances over her cheek. “Using the pictures they sent with it, I’ll be able to carve the new piece of wood to match.”

  “You are incredible.” She beams at me.

  Reaching for her, I shift her into my lap and press my lips to her neck. “Nah, I just give good wood.”

  She laughs. “You sure do.”

  “You're the one that's incredible. It's amazing how you pull those events together.”

  Last night, when I got stir crazy from being in the room for so long, I made my way down to the ballroom and watched from one of the doorways. A fundraiser was going on, complete with guest speakers and live auctions to raise money.

  Like a beautiful puppet master, Paige deftly controlled all the strings. The amount of people and moving parts of the event left my head spinning. Then I overheard a server mention another event was taking place on the roof.

  In shock, I watched Paige go back and forth between the two, and all in another pair of those damn heels. Not only that, but she did it all with serene grace. It was like watching a master at work. It was also a side of her I've never fully seen before. Hints of it were there at the Moose when she took and served drink orders with ease.

  She shrugs. “It's nothing like what you do. Everything I plan is temporary. The things you make seem like they could last forever.”

  “Don't sell yourself short,” I swallow, playing with her fingers. “You make memories that will last a lifetime.”

  Her face softens. “You think?”

  I cup her face. “I do.”

  She rests her forehead against my cheek. “Thank you.”

  We both turn to watch the water. The river is full of other boats enjoying the beautiful day. Our boat rocks as we cross the wake of another ship.

  “Look,” Paige points as soon as The Statue of Liberty comes into view.

  Ignoring her command, I'm transfixed by the excited way her face is lit up. “You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”

  Her lips part as she turns her face to lock eyes with me. Pushing my fingers into her hair, I cup the back of her head and kiss her.

  We kiss so long, oblivious to the world around us, we’re almost to the statue when I break our kiss. Her eyes blink open and she gives me a sultry smile.

  “This is amazing.”

  “The boat ride?” she asks.

  “That,” I answer, “and getting to experience it with you.”

  Before getting out of the city, with the unending crush of people, and out onto this river, I hadn't noticed how smothered I felt. That feeling disappeared during the times I was with Paige, and while I worked on the arch today. The rest of the time, the creeping pressure of the city and people in it was slowly crushing me.

  “It means so much to me that you came,” she replies. “There was a time before I met you when I asked for help and was abandoned by the people I was closest to. It was scary to ask you and I'll never be able to thank you enough for being here for me.”

  My thumb caresses her cheek. “I'll always be there for you.”

  It's startling how intensely I mean those words. As if the concept of existing without her was impossible. It is. I’ve never felt lonely until she left. It wasn't because I was by myself; it was because she took a piece of me with her. I’ve felt incomplete until I held her again.

  She tips her head and presses her forehead to mine. “Asher.”

  “Hate to interrupt folks, but we’re here,” the captain says after loudly clearing his throat.

  Still holding her gaze, we both laugh and turn to look at him. Paige slips off my lap to pass him her phone so he can snap a couple pictures of us. When she gets her phone back, Paige snaps a couple of just me.

  “That's enough,” I say, laughing and reaching for her phone.

  She shakes her finger at me but still puts her phone away. We’re not the only boat trying to get a nice view of the statue, so our captain steers us into less crowded waters.

  Away from the other boats, he's able to crank up our speed. Wind whipping through our hair, I grin at Paige as we both hold on to the rail. It's so much fun I start second thinking getting a bigger boat for my lake.

  Paige pins knowing eyes on me. Can she guess what I'm thinking?

  “It's awesome,” I explain.

  With a laugh she shakes her head at me. For the next hour, our captain takes us from the New York side of the Hudson to the Jersey side for Paige to get panoramic shots of the skyline. Then he angles us back toward to marina.

  After we’re fully
docked, I shake his hand. “Thank you. That was great.”

  Paige does the same and I don't miss the way his eyes briefly linger on her. She's beautiful, there's no mistaking that, but he’ll never get to find out how much more there is to her.

  On the car ride back to the hotel, she gushes about her favorite parts of our boat ride, “I'm not sure which part was my favorite, going under the bridge, or when he went all speedracer.”

  “The whole thing was my favorite part.”

  She looks down to where our hands are linked. “I’m so happy you liked it.” Lifting her head, she grins, adding, “And just so you know, it isn't the only surprise I have planned for you.”

  “What?” I ask, surprised.

  She bobs her head. “Yep, I've got more tricks up my sleeve.”

  When we got back to the hotel, Paige quickly showered and went back to work. I had a front row seat watching her shift from the Paige I spent the afternoon sailing with, to the sleek and polished Paige event planner. In the same way super heroes stand taller and exude boundless confidence once they strap their capes around their necks, her body language changed as well.

  It’s not until after she kissed me goodbye and the hotel door closed behind her that I began to worry she’d lose a vital part of herself in settling for life in New Hampshire. Will she be happy going back to serving coffee in the mornings, and beers at night? Nothing about Dana’s or the Moose are glamorous.

  My eyes still trained on the door I ask myself the hardest question, will she want to come back at all? What’s even clearer to me now, after our afternoon spent out on the river, is how uncomfortable I am here. Being on that boat was the first time I haven’t felt the press of the city crushing me.

  I thought being with Paige could be enough to repress that feeling. It helps but I know I can’t stay here.

  Needing to clear my head, I flee our room and go back down to my makeshift workshop in the basement. Even the peace this room once gave me is gone. All I can do now is try not to focus on the fact that I’m underground in a concrete cell.

  The glue I applied earlier won't have dried yet. If I need to shift any of the pieces, now would be the time to do it.

  The arch is made up of two large carved pieces crossing in the middle. One of them broke and snapped off completely. Using a long and dense wooden dowel, I reconnected the broken pieces and secured them with glue. I've prepared two wooden pieces to be attached around the dowel, disguising it. It's those pieces I'll carve to replicate the portion that was destroyed.

  The first thing I ever carved was a thick stick when I was ten years old and working on my whittling chip for scouts. The work I do these days doesn't call for much carving. Sinking into the chair in front of one of the tables, I slide my hand over the wood.

  It's air dried walnut, already shaped to fit around the dowel. Reaching past the wood, I pick up the pictures Mr. Knight provided. With a light hand, I trace out the outline of the largest aspects of the original carving. Then, I get to work.

  A knock on the door has me blinking down at the progress I made.

  Setting down my spoon knife, I say, “Come in.”

  “I figured I'd find you in here when you weren't in our room,” Paige replies, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

  “What are you doing all the way over there?” I ask, taking off my glasses.

  Her face breaks into a wide smile as she crosses the room. “I didn't want to disturb you if you were in the zone.”

  I quirk a brow. “In the zone?”

  She laughs, resting her hand on my shoulder once she reaches me and leans down to kiss me. “Yep.”

  My arms circle her waist as she kisses me. There are no windows and a ventilation system that leaves a lot to be desired. Add that to the dull gray walls and it's not hard for this room to feel like a prison cell. She’s been in here less than a minute and I feel like I'm back on that boat with her, the sun kissing our cheeks.

  “Did I ever tell you I think your glasses are sexy?” Paige says.

  I blink. “You do?”

  She leans back down to kiss me, murmuring, “Oh yeah,” before her full lips meet mine.

  When she lifts her head, I waggle my eyebrows. “Want me to put them back on?”

  She tilts her head to the side. “Maybe later.”

  To keep myself from bending her over one of these tables, I push all thoughts of later aside and change the subject. “Want to see what I've done so far?”

  She peeks around me. “Absolutely.”

  Reaching behind me, I pick up the piece I was working on and pass it to her.

  She hesitates before taking it. “Is it okay for me to touch it?”

  “Of course,” I reply.

  Her fingertips delicately explore the ridges and swirls I was working on when she arrived.

  “It's beautiful,” she whispers reverently.

  Lifting my hand, I tuck her hair behind her ear and cup her cheek. “It's got nothing on you.”

  “Keep saying stuff like that and you're going to miss your suit fitting,” she replies.

  I straighten, dropping my hand. “My what?”

  She gestures towards the door. “Remember, for dinner with Fiona.”

  For some reason, I figured she was joking when she mentioned getting me a suit. “Is this necessary?”

  This time it's Paige who straightens, her back stiffening. “If you don't want to g--”

  Tugging her closer, I cut her off. “It's been a long time since I've worn a suit but I'll be there.”

  She raises a brow. “How long?”

  “How long what?” I ask.

  She plants her hands on her hips. “How long has it been since you've worn a suit?”

  “Probably Eli and Brooke's wedding,” I reply.

  She grins, shaking her head. “Why am I not surprised?”

  I shrug. There's not much use for suits at the lake.

  “Do you have time?” Her eyes move to the carving. “If you're in the zone I can ask them to come back.”

  Standing, shifting her with me, I reach for her hand. “Now works.”

  I don't say, might as well get it over with.

  Instead of going to our room, she takes me to a hall of offices that starts behind the front desk.

  The same woman who gave me my room key smiles and waves to Paige as we walk past. Something tells me if she wasn't helping someone, she'd have stopped us to talk. Grateful to escape unnecessary conversations, I quietly walk with Paige, my attention on the ornate woodwork lining the hall. The detail is impressive.

  Personally, I would have stained the wood versus painting it.

  Wood grain wouldn't fit with the style of this hotel though. Pity.

  “Lou?” Paige calls.

  A tall slim man wearing a kilt steps into the hallway. “My my, you weren't lying when you said he was a big boy.”

  I gulp.

  Paige meets my eyes. “This is Lou. I told him not to flirt with you but as you can see, it didn't sink in.”

  Then quietly, just for my ears, she asks, “Are you sure you're good with this?”

  I nod, and offer my hand to Lou. He takes it in both of his and grins up at me. As much as I dislike attention, his smile is infectious. Besides, I'm doing this for Paige. Her concern for me has made Lou’s attention less of an issue.

  “I'm going to go back to the ballroom,” Paige says, lifting up onto her toes to press a kiss to my cheek. “Unless you want me to stay.”

  Lou still has my hand in both of his. “I'll be okay.”

  She presses her lips to my cheek again and looks at Lou. “You can let go now.”

  He shakes his head and I laugh. When she glares at him he reluctantly drops my hand.

  Both Lou and I watch her go. “It’s a relief to see her so happy again.”

  “You were friends before?” I ask.

  He nods. “That was some serious bullshit that went down.”

  I don't ask for him to elabo
rate. Between what Millie and Paige told me, I've been able to piece together what happened.

  Here, she is the prodigal son returned and welcomed with open arms.

  At the end of the hall, she turns to wave before slipping through the door.

  “Alright big boy, let’s get your measurements,” Lou says with a tilt of his head toward one of the rooms.

  As flirty as he is, Lou is all business and mainly silent as he takes my measurements.

  “Have you two started looking at places?”

  His question catches me off guard for more than one reason.

  “What?” I ask.

  “For when you move here?” He clarifies.

  The walls and ceiling of the room we’re in seem to press in.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He moves from behind me to stand in front of me, winding up his cloth measuring strip. “Everybody knows Fiona wants Paige to takeover here. I thought it was common knowledge,” he replies with a grimace.

  If it's common knowledge, does Paige know? And if she did, why would she be interviewing people for the job?

  “Paige hasn't said anything to me.”

  Avoiding my gaze, he turns to begin packing up his supplies. “What do I know? Honestly, don't put any weight to what I said. If Fiona said anything to her I'm sure she would have mentioned it,” he adds quickly.

  Would she?

  My chest tightens as his words racket around my mind. Could I be loosing her to this place? Pain unlike any I’ve experienced before now closes like a fist around my heart and squeezes.

  Twenty

  Paige

  “Your manager will be hearing from me,” the irate mother-of-the-bride screeches.

  “I'll let her know to expect your call,” I reply.

  Yes, the customer is always right, and yes, we do everything in our power and their budgets to make their dream event happen. I am however, not a fairy godmother who can bop a pumpkin with my wand and make it a crystal carriage. What I also can't do is turn back the hands of time to repair the delivery truck carting one hundred pounds of Alaskan salmon to their caterer for this bridal shower. She assumed she could save a few bucks by using some no name second cousin caterer to provide the food.