“My best friend, Quinn,” I responded without turning around.
“What are you two girls talking about?” he teased, but I was too embarrassed to admit the truth.
“Just letting her know where I am. And she might have asked who you were.”
He pushed off from the couch and stood behind me as I quickly minimized the window on the computer screen, which made him whine, “I wanted to see what you wrote.”
“I bet you did,” I teased back, my earlier defenses lowering.
His breath was hot on my neck as his hands gripped the chair and brushed against my shoulders. “So, what did you say about me?”
I angled my head slightly and his face appeared in my view, way too close. Holding my breath, I said, “Nothing. Just that you were the guy who owned the shop that was fixing my car.”
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled before walking away and into the kitchen.
Reopening the computer window, I logged out of my e-mail and turned off the monitor. I stood up and headed toward the door, needing to get away from whatever this was. “I better go to bed.”
“I’ll let you know about the tire as soon as I hear back from my guy.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
“’Night, Paige,” he drawled, and I fought the urge to walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist and breathe him in.
“’Night, Tatum.” I pulled the door shut behind me and stepped into the warm Southern evening, the sound of crickets serenading me as I headed back to the main house.
• • •
I woke up the next morning refreshed and relaxed. It had been a dreamless night, free of stress, deadlines, and unkind memories of Colin. The sound of birds chirping and other insect noises I’d yet to become accustomed to greeted my ears. Reaching my arms above my head, I clasped my hands together and stretched, my body popping and realigning itself with my movements. The smell of muffins wafted into my room, and my stomach growled.
Rubbing at my tummy, I tossed the covers off and hopped out of bed. It was definitely weird not having anywhere to be, anyone to call, or anyone to report to. It was one thing when I had a vacation or a short break from filming, but this felt different. Maybe it was because I ran away. Or maybe it was because I was the one making decisions for what felt like the first time in forever.
While part of me had never felt so settled (and relieved), the other part of me hated sitting still. I’d never been very good at relaxing and doing nothing, but I decided to force myself to try. I deserved this. Hell, I needed this. And all of this peace would end far too soon if I allowed it.
“Good morning, Paige. I didn’t want to wake you. I hope that was okay.” Mrs. Montgomery turned to greet me from the kitchen as I plodded down the hallway in my shorts and tank top. Putting down the newspaper, she asked, “How’d you sleep?”
“Great. Thank you.”
“Are you hungry? I made some muffins with the blueberries from outside, and I can whip you up some fresh eggs and bacon, if you’d like?”
“The muffins smell amazing. I don’t need anything else,” I said, reaching for one out of the basket on the counter. When I took a bite, the steam burned my mouth, and I fought the urge to spit it out all over the table. I swallowed, forced a smile, and asked if she had any milk, all while trying to appear semi-normal.
Laughing, she poured me a small glass. “I should have mentioned they were hot. Did you get to e-mail your family last night?” Her tone hinted at something more.
“I did. Thank you. I actually need to check my e-mail again, if that’s okay?”
“Of course, dear. The back house is always unlocked. And Tatum’s at work already. Probably trying to get you that tire, so you can get on out of here.” Her face fell and she looked away for a second, then she brightened and patted my arm. “You should go see him if you don’t have any plans.”
I scrunched my face at her suggestion and said, “I don’t have any plans, but I don’t think I should go see him either.”
“Oh, I just meant that you should go ask about your car was all.” Her cheeks turned rosy and I wondered what she was up to, but didn’t dare ask.
“I thought I might walk around your property, if you don’t mind.” When Tatum brought me here yesterday, I noticed that the land seemed to stretch for miles. There was a path through the tall grass and trees that begged me to explore it.
“Of course. That’s a great idea. The swimming hole’s not too far down the pathway, if you want to go for a dip.”
“Swimming hole? That’s a real thing?” I probably sounded like a complete idiot, but that term was one I’d only heard in old TV shows and movies. I’d never actually heard it said in real life.
She let out a little chuckle. “It is very much a real thing. There’s even a tree with a rope swing,” she added, gently teasing me.