Beckettchuckled.
“What?”she demurred, scanning the labels.
“I’mgetting a kick out of watching you.”
“Why?”
“Becauseyou’re like a googly-eyed kid. It’s a different side of you. It’s cute. You’recute.” He offered her his glass. “Want to try?”
Cute.A pixie. Pixies aren’t hot or sexy or exotic. Why does it matter? She took a small sip, raised hereyebrows, and took another.
“Wantyour own pour?” He reached for another glass.
“I’lldo it. You’ll give me too much.” She dribbled the velvety brown liquid into theglass. When she was done, he flicked a drop of water in her glass too.
“Opensit up.” He raised his glass and clinked it against hers in a resonating crystalring. “Here’s to our first New Year’s Eve together.”
A painlanced Paige’s heart.
Helooked at her quizzically. “What’s wrong?”
“Idon’t know. The divorce is final soon, and it’s … it feels a little strange.”She gave herself a mental shake.
“A newyear, a new beginning.”
Anew normal. “You’reright.” She sighed and sipped her drink.
“Haveyou been seeing anyone?” Beckett’s icy-blue eyes locked on hers over the rim ofhis glass.
Shegaped at him. “You’re kidding, right? I’m still technically married. It wouldbe so … so wrong.”
Helooked at her as if she’d just climbed off a spaceship.
“I knowI don’t owe Adrian loyalty, but this isn’t about him. It’s about me. Gettinginvolved with someone before it’s officially over would make me feel dirty. I’dbe as big a sleazeball as he is, and I couldn’t live with the guilt. Itwouldn’t be worth it. I can wait a few weeks—not that I’m planning on jumpinginto a relationship anytime soon.”
Beckettraised his glass to no one in particular. “Fair enough.”
Perchedon a padded armchair by the marble fireplace, Paige drew in a quick breath andfinished her drink. Liquid fortification. “Why didn’t you correct Cordwood whenhe referred to me as your wife?”
“Ididn’t want to confuse him, and frankly, I’m confused myself. How do youdescribe us?”
Sheshrugged. “Friends.”
“DoesAdrian know you’re here with me?” Beckett began pouring himself another glass,and he pointed at hers.
Sheconsidered for a moment. “I’d prefer Maker’s if there’s any. Then we’ll drink tomy divorce.” Her words were like bitter ash in her mouth.
Beckettdropped ice cubes in a glass. Clink, clink, clink. “Did you tell him?”He splashed Maker’s over the ice. Handing her the fresh drink, he tapped thebottom of his to hers.
“No.Does it matter? He traded me in.” She bit her thumb. Hard.
Beckettgrunted, “His loss,” and threw back the contents of his glass.
“Interestingcoming from you, Mr. Not-Wired-For-Long-Term Miller.”
“Yeah,well, if you hadn’t avoided me in college, I might just be Mr. Married Millernow, chasing some little Millers around the house.”
Blindsided,she erupted in an uncensored, liquor-loosened laugh. The image wasn’t justfunny to her—it was preposterous. Beckett shot her a glance; this was not asamusing to him as it was to her.
“Beck,you and I would’ve been an utter disaster. I doubt we’d have lasted a week.”
“Why?”
“Becauseyou’re into glamorous, and I’m vanilla. Because you’re a commitment-phobe.Because I’m not open-minded; I wouldn’t be able to share you with dozens ofother women. Heck, Adrian’s one just about crushed me.” She offered hima sad smile.
Heblinked. “Commitment-phobe might have been true in college … Okay, okay. Stopwith the stink-eye. Let me rephrase. It might have been true until recently,but people can change, right? And you’re so positive I’d be chasing otherwomen, but you’re wrong. Not if—never mind.”
Suddenlyuncomfortable, Paige set her glass down and stood. “I think I’ll unpack. Do youcare which room I take?” Beckett shook his head. She sensed his eyes on herback as she picked up her bag and headed in one direction.
Hisvoice rumbled behind her. “I’m hungry. Want some lunch?”
Sheturned and took in his tight smile. “Sure. Let me unpack and freshen up first.”
“Youlook fantastic the way you are.”
“Thathungry, Beck?”
“Youcan’t take a compliment,” he groused and turned to the windows.
AsPaige unpacked, she pushed aside Beckett’s grumpiness and focused on herradiant-butterfly-emerging-from-its-chrysalis night. She would be Cinderellaturning a few Prince Charmings’ heads. It would be an opportunity to dust offher flirting and eye-batting skills, her hanging-on-his-every-word skills.She’d prepare to re-enter the single world.
Her guttwisted in a tight spiral at the thought. She’d hadn’t chosen singlehood—notwillingly. But she’d picked a man who’d decided for them both. How could shehave been so wrong about Adrian? He’d been like catnip, irresistible anddazing. She’d let him scramble her brain, blinding her and rendering herutterly incompetent in her ability to recognize his flaws. Shouldn’t theabsence of a father have equipped her with an innate perception, a warningsystem regarding men? Insight had failed her. Did she even have any?
Maybeshe was more like her mother than she’d ever realized.
CHAPTER 17
Danger Zone
They hurried along icy sidewalks, glancing in store windowsdecked out with holiday decorations. Beckett had been looking forward to thistrip since he’d asked Andie to join him, and he’d been on pins and needles fromthe moment his eyelids had snapped open that morning. Unable to eat, he’dswallowed toast to soak up some of the acid churning in his gut. But now he wasborderline hangry, his stomach roaring, and the smell of grilling onions from alocal joint was too enticing to resist, so he pulled her in.
“Can Iask you something?” Beckett said after they’d placed their orders.
“Ofcourse.”
“Whenwe were talking before, back at the suite, you laid out some unsettlingdifferences between us.”
“Ididn’t mean to upset you.”
“That’snot it. I just … sometimes I think to myself, ‘Andie is a special person, andshe likes you’—I think—‘so you must be likeable on some level.’ So tell me whysomeone like you invests time in someone like me.”
“BecauseI’m nuts?” she quipped. He didn’t smile.
“Youprobably are nuts, Andie. I know why I like spending time with you—andit’s not only because you’re beautiful, smart, successful, funny. I’mcomfortable talking to you; I can be myself. I can be goofy.” He paused towink. “You don’t like me just because I’m a hockey player. Hell, it’s the raretime that’s worked against me. I don’t have shit—the money, the cars,they’re all gone—and you’ve seen my warts and then some. So why do you stickaround? For which I’m very grateful, by the way.”
As sheleaned across the table and grasped his hand, her eyes filled with—what?Patience? “First
