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Chapter 65
On Sunday morning, as Paige was getting Sputnik his breakfast, her phone alerted her to an incoming text from David.
DAVID: Jacob and I would really like it if you could join us today at noon in Monterey Park for a picnic. We’re looking for new stomping grounds.
The invitation had her feeling somewhat conflicted, and ironically, she wondered if this was how David had felt, when he’d been hesitant to spend time with her.
Before she could respond, he texted again.
This time it was a selfie of David and Jacob both wearing pleading expressions, with Jacob in front of David, his hands clasped in prayer. It was cheesy and so staged that it couldn’t help but make her smile, even through the subtext at looking for a new park because the old favorite had been badly tarnished, made her want to frown.
In the end, even though Jacob was likely being shamelessly used to tug on her heartstrings, she relented.
PAIGE: Okay. I’ll meet you there.
DAVID: Really? That’s great.
PAIGE: Can I bring anything?
DAVID: Just yourself.
The weather was unseasonably nice for December—sunny, with just a mild chill in the air, so Paige dressed in jeans and a sky blue, fleece zip-up hoody over a white shirt.
She found David sitting on a blanket off to one side of the main playground, which had the typical assortment of slides, swings, jungle-gyms, and a giant sandbox. There were kids everywhere, and it took her a few moments to locate Jacob, who was climbing like a monkey up some kind of netting made of rope to get to a raised, wooden fort.
When David saw her approaching, he got to his feet and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which surprised her a little bit. Had he forgotten already that she was mad at him?
“Thank you for coming,” he said as they sat down.
“You’re welcome.”
She set the small bag she’d brought next to her on the blanket, and looked David over. His hair was down and slightly windblown—damn him—and he was wearing her favorite cargo pants and a long-sleeved, thermal Henley. She was thinking about how unfair it was for him to look this good when she saw his heavily bandaged hand, and the image of her slamming the door on it ran through her head, making her flinch.
“Are you sure that’s not broken?” she asked.
“It’s just bruised,” he assured her. As promised, he’d gone to Urgent Care where x-rays had been taken and determined his hand was only badly bruised. “But the doctor wants me to keep it bandaged and immobile for a few days.”
“How are you going to work?”
“I’ll be doing what I can, and my assistant, Kim, will pick up the slack.”
After a long beat, she murmured, “I’m sorry. Oh, my God.”
He chuckled softly. “It’s okay. Really. I might need you to cut the sandwiches I brought, though.”
Paige covered her face with both hands for a long moment, and when she removed them, it was to find that David had moved closer to her.
“At the risk of sounding extremely creepy, um … what perfume are you wearing?” he asked in a low voice, leaning into her space. “It smells good.”
“I can’t remember the name of it,” she said, resisting the urge to scoot her ass a few inches to the left and re-establish the distance she’d initially put between them. But she had a feeling if she did, the next time she glanced away, he’d be right next to her again, and that could go on all afternoon, the two of them scooting around on the blanket like idiots.
He gave her a skeptical look. “You can’t remember the name of your perfume? I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie about that? Don’t you forget things?”
He ignored her second question. “I think you’re lying because you’re embarrassed to tell me the truth.”
“What truth would that be?”
