“You think that love might come along for me while Paige is here, and I’ll blow it off because of her?”
“Maybe. Or after she leaves, and you’re nursing a broken heart.”
“So you’re afraid that Paige being here is going to make me less willing to try a relationship with The One when she comes along?”
Ellie nodded. “Maybe.”
Mitch sighed. “What do I do, Ellie?”
They all called Leo and Ellie by their first names. There were too many grandparents in the area to refer to them as grandma and grandpa, and Leo and Ellie weren’t the Maw-Maw or Papa types.
“Move her out of your bedroom, for starters,” Ellie said. “Keep your hands and lips to yourself. Think of her as a roommate and a friend, but nothing more.”
Mitch had figured that’s where this was going. It was strange that this advice was coming from one of the biggest romantics he knew. Ellie was tough and gruff and had a no-nonsense edge, but she was definitely a believer in happily ever after.
“Okay.” He’d be a dumbass not to agree. For one, because she was very likely right. She often was. For another, she’d probably smack him upside the back of his head if he didn’t agree.
“I love you, Mitch,” Ellie said.
“I love you, too.”
“Now go home. And take the box of food to Griffin.” She pointed at the to-go boxes on the bar.
They were plain brown boxes that looked like shoe boxes. She’d used Styrofoam containers for years. Then Bennett Baxter had come along and convinced her to change to something more environmentally friendly.
She’d rolled her eyes. But she’d done it.
Ellie was stubborn, and she liked things her way and was right ninety-nine percent of the time. But she was also reasonable. Ish. And she respected people who earned it.
Mitch should listen to her about Paige.
He knew that.
“I need some bread pudding, too. For Paige.”
Ellie looked approving about that. “You know where it is and how to use a serving spoon.”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
He dished up bread pudding for Paige, added it to the stack of boxes, called goodnight to everyone, and headed for home.
To Paige.
Paige came down the stairs with her hair up in a towel.
She’d eaten her grilled cheese, fed her cats, and then taken a shower. Everything had been easy to find, and she felt a lot more normal now.
It had been a long day. Between the drive and emotions of seeing Mitch again, she felt like it had been a week since she’d left Iowa rather than just two days.
She’d texted Piper and Whitney before she’d gotten in the shower. Then had relented and texted her mom and two sisters in a group message.
As she went back down the stairs, she read the responses.
Oh, my God! Paige! That’s amazing! had been Piper’s response. She was the boldest of any of the people Paige had texted. Piper also wasn’t a bit worried about Paige’s addiction to cats. “Do what makes you happy,” had been Piper’s response whenever Paige talked about how her mom worried about her life choices.
That’s…wow, had been Whitney’s reaction. You’re okay though?
Paige typed, I’m completely okay. I got here with no trouble, Mitch was really happy to see me, and I can stay as long as I want.
She thought about her response as she stepped into the living room. Mitch had been really happy to see her. She smiled. She’d had nothing to worry about, obviously. Everything she’d thought she’d felt in Iowa for him was still there. And very reciprocal. All the details about her staying had just fallen into place. He had room for her. He was going to get her a job. He was fine with her just being here and them being friends and having some fun until she was ready to go to Colorado.
This was going to be great.
A few months of hanging out in a new place, working at a completely new-to-her job, and hot sex? Why would she turn this down?
Her head still bent over her phone as she reassured her friends, and avoided the messages from her sisters and mom, Paige rounded the end of the couch.
She sensed something and looked up.
And screamed.
The guy sitting on the couch looked over with a frown. “Jesus,” was all he said.
Her hand over her pounding heart, Paige worked to take a deep breath. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think I should open the bathroom door and inform you I was home,” he said. He lifted a bottle of beer to his mouth and focused on the television again. It was tuned to a basketball game. “Fuckers,” he muttered at the TV.
“You must be Griffin.” Obviously. The guy was sitting here as if he lived here.
“Yep.”
“I’m Paige.”
“Hey.”
Her eyebrows arched. Then it registered that he had a cat lying next to him, pressed up against his leg, and another on his lap. Eddie looked blissful against Griffin’s thigh, and Griffin was lazily stroking a big hand over Bernie’s back.
So, her cats liked him.
Well, not Fred. He was probably still in the lower cupboard next to Mitch’s stove. He didn’t like anyone or anything right now.
“Aren’t you concerned about finding a strange woman in your house?” she asked. She plopped into the chair perpendicular to him and propped a foot on the coffee table.
He looked over at her. “Not really. I figure murderers and robbers don’t take showers at the crime scene.”
“But you didn’t know it wasn’t Mitch in the shower,” she pointed out. “You weren’t expecting him to come downstairs?”
“His truck is gone, and the scent coming from under the bathroom door was not Mitch’s soap.”
“Damn, you’re like a detective or something.”
“Observant.” Griffin lifted his bottle again.
“You’re cool with having a new roommate?” she asked. Did he know anything about her? Kennedy had known who she was.
“If you smell like that all the time, sure,” he said. “Plus, you come with cats.”
He stroked a hand over Bernie again. She could hear the cat purring even from where she sat.
“Mitch said you’re a vet and wouldn’t have a problem with the cats.” He’d actually said Griffin could move out if he did, but she didn’t mention that part.
“Animals are far superior to humans,” Griffin said.
“They might want to sleep on your bed. With you.”
“They will,” he said.
“Oh?”
“I’m big, warm, and don’t move around much in my sleep.”
She grinned. “Good to know.”
“And they’ll think they’re getting away with something. Cats like that.”
He wasn’t wrong. When she was working and had papers spread all over her coffee table, the cats only wanted to lie on the ones she needed most. When they hid her socks, it was only her favorites. Even if she put another pair on the floor, they’d ignore it for the ones they knew they weren’t supposed to mess with.
“How long have you been in Autre?” she asked.
“About two months.” He didn’t say it with any kind of enthusiasm.