Chapter Three
Paige knew what the ex-SEAL lounging against the bedroom door frame had
to be thinking. Her clothes and Walter's were laying on the floor where she'd
tossed them. The comforter had slid downward, exposing Walter's bare back.
She was wearing his robe, for God's sake.
"It's not what it looks like," she said lamely.
"No? Well, it looks like you and Walter had sex. And it looks like you screwed
his brains out, judging by the way he's sleeping," he snarled. "Pretty convenient
how you ‘forgot' Ralph's present. I should have known what was up when you
insisted on getting it yourself."
"I did forget his present." Fidgeting with the robe's belt, she stared defiantly
at Tim. "Walter had gone out and came back while I was here and he was pretty
hammered and threw up. I got some on me when I was cleaning it up so I took
a shower." She bit her lip, knowing her explanation sounded weak and incomplete,
but she'd be damned if she'd tell the other man Walter had brought another
woman back to the garage with him. She was in no mood to hear him gloat and
find even more fault with the genius.
"You expect me to believe Walter got drunk?" Tim sounded incredulous.
"I don't expect you to believe anything. It's the truth."
"You've been gone for over two hours. I tried calling, but it just kept
going to voice mail."
Oh crap. "I left my phone in the car," she explained. "I was only going
to be a few minutes." A panicky thought hit her. "Where's Ralph? He's not
downstairs, is he?" This was a conversation the boy genius definitely did
not need to hear.
"He's at the apartment."
Paige had heard the expression ‘seeing red' before but didn't see how it
could be possible - until now.
"You left Ralph home alone in the middle of the night?" she shouted.
Tim shrugged. "He's twelve. He'll be all right."
"He's my son and I say you just can't leave him alone in the middle of the
night!"
Her yelling caused Walter to stir, the comforter slipping down a little
further, revealing the top of his bare butt.
"He's naked! If you didn't have sex, how he get naked?" the former trainee
challenged as his eyes lingered on the man in the bed.
"Don't change the subject," she hissed at him. She waved her hand dismissively.
"I need to get dressed and go home. Now," she demanded as Tim didn't move
except to uncross his arms from over his chest.
"I'll wait downstairs," he said, pushing himself away from the door frame.
"Wait for what?"
"To take you back home."
"You're going home, all right. Just not to mine."
"What?" He looked as though someone had taken away his favorite toy.
"You think I've slept with Walter and you left Ralph alone in the middle
of the night and you think I'm going to take you back to my place so we can
have sex?" Paige's voice shook with anger.
Tim had the sense to reply, "I guess not."
"You don't trust me, do you?"
"I trust you." He tipped his head toward the sleeping man in the bed. "I
don't trust him. He thinks he loves you."
"I know." It was Paige's turn to fold her arms across her body.
"This is never going to work, is it?" he asked after an awkward silence.
"What's not going to work?" But she already knew the answer.
"This long-distance thing. I've done it a few times after I've been transferred
before. After about six months. . ." He shrugged his shoulders again. "It
takes about that long to figure out you don't miss them all that much anymore.
Usually someone cheats and. . ."
"Did you?" Unpleasant memories of the long-distance relationship she'd tried
to maintain with Drew and finding him with the blonde in Tahoe made her sick
to her stomach. But she was glad she wasn't as naive anymore.
"Did I what?"
"Did you cheat?" Paige gazed stubbornly at him.
Tim tore his eyes from hers and stared down at his shoes. "Yes. Just once.
I didn't mean for it to happen. It just did. He was cheating though too. .
."
"He?"
"Uh, yeah, I thought you would have figured it out by now." He ran his hand
over his hair.
"Figure what out?"
"That I'm bisexual. I was originally interested in Walter, but he made it
pretty plain he's hetero, so. . ."
Paige was at a loss for words. She'd had no idea, of his sexuality or that
she had been his second choice. Not that any of it mattered. He was a cheater.
That was all she needed to know about him.
"I don't care." She bit her lip so hard the coppery taste of blood seeped
into her mouth. "You're right. This was never going to work. I think you should
go now. I'll explain to Ralph. . ." A sob bubbled out of her chest and she
couldn't continue.
"He would have started undermining our relationship the minute I stepped
onto the plane. He's no saint. . ."
"No one ever said he was," she interrupted before he could launch another
tirade against Walter, one which now sounded suspiciously like sour grapes.
"He has a lot to make up for before I'd ever consider anything other than
friendship with him. Not that it's any of your business."
"No, it not." He shook his head. "You love him, don't you?"
"Yes."
"So this is it? ‘It's been fun but goodbye?'"
"It was fun. Tim, you're a sweet. . ."
"Ah, hell, don't say that," he cut in. "I'm tired of hearing about how I'm
such a sweet guy. Or a nice guy. That's even worse."
The pout on his face made her giggle. "I'm sorry, but it's true."
"I'd better go before you tell me ‘it's not you, it's me.'" He started to
turn away then stopped. "I imagine it's too much to ask for a kiss goodbye?"
"Seriously?" She fluttered her hands in Walter's direction. "It's bad enough
we just broke up in his bedroom while he's passed out drunk."
"Right." Tim flashed her a tight grin which quickly disappeared. "Have a
good life, Paige."
"You, too."
He stood there, just looking at her for a few moments before finally walking
away. Paige's legs gave out when she heard the downstairs door creak shut,
and she plopped down on the corner of the bed. She didn't even realize she
was crying until a tear dripped off the end of her nose. Using the sleeves
of Walter's robe, she futilely wiped her face, eventually giving up and giving
in to her frustration she'd let another cheater into her life. At least this
time she'd found out before she'd fallen in love with him.
And she only cried harder when she realized she never would have fallen
in love with him, not when her heart still belonged to Walter O'Brien.
Fifteen minutes later, Paige had pulled herself together, had gotten dressed,
cleaned up the bedroom and bathroom, tossed Walter's clothes into the washer,
and retrieved the forgotten present. She needed to go home, Ralph was there
alone. She needed to wrap the rest of his presents. She was tired, it had
been a long day, and she just wanted to curl up in her bed and sleep for about
a week.
It was after two in the morning. Christmas morning. Ralph would be up in
less than four hours, ready to tear open his gifts and eat the pancakes she'd
made every Christmas morning since he'd been a year old.
So why was she standing at the foot of Walter's bed, staring at him as he
slept? He looked so peaceful, yet she didn't envy him the hangover he was
going to experience later. He hadn't moved at all when she'd rearranged the
comforter to cover his bared body, her hand accidentally grazing the breadth
of his shoulders.
She loved him. He loved her. It should be so simple. But it wasn't. And
it probably would never be. Nothing was simple when it came to the complicated
genius. He was as scared as she was, as worried as she was of what would happen
if a relationship between them didn't work out. There was so much at stake.
Scorpion, Ralph, their friendship. . .
With a weary sigh, she moved to the head of the bed, reaching out and brushing
a stray curl from his forehead. "Merry Christmas, Walter," she said before
placing a light kiss where her fingers had been.
The drive home was short, traffic practically non-existent this early in
the morning. Paige let herself into her condo, placing the present under the
tree before hustling to her son's bedroom. As quietly as she could, she opened
the door and saw Ralph sound asleep in his bed. She knew deep down he had
been perfectly all right by himself, no matter what she had screamed at Tim.
But he'd had no right to make that call. He wasn't Ralph's father. And now
he never would be.
She waited for the tears, for an ache in her chest, the clenching of her
stomach. But they didn't come. Their breakup should have been upsetting, she'd
dated him for months, had nearly slept with him. . . And yet, she felt nothing
now he was out of her life. Well, not even nothing, it was more like a sense
of relief.
She'd thought she wanted normal. She'd thought she wanted safe. She'd thought
she wanted predictable. Instead, she discovered she must really want weird
and unpredictable. And trust, she wanted someone she could trust. Someone
who would never cheat on her. Someone who would protect her and her son as
best he could or die trying.
She wanted Walter.
Softly exhaling, she bent down over her sleeping son, stroking his hair
from his forehead before giving his cheek a kiss.
"Mom! Mom!"
Ralph's excited shouts from the living room woke her out of a sound sleep.
Ugh, what time was it? Paige opened one eye, finding her alarm clock. 6:44
am. She'd only fell into bed about three hours earlier, surprising herself
by going to sleep almost as soon as her head met the pillow.
"Just a minute, sweetheart," she called out, swinging her legs out from
under her blanket and sitting up. Running her hands over her face, she stood
up. Coffee, she needed coffee and plenty of it if she was going to make it
through the day.
A hour later, the living room was ankle deep in torn wrapping paper and
bows. Ralph had darted into his room to get his telescope, evidently waiting
a second longer to attach his new camera to it wasn't an option. Paige leaned
back on the couch, chuckling as she took another sip from her cup.
Time to make pancakes, she told herself, getting to her feet. She was adding
buttermilk to the batter when her son hopped into the kitchen.
"Where's Tim?" he asked as he adjusted a bolt on his scope. "I thought he
was supposed to be here this morning. He's still not asleep, is he?" He glanced
over his shoulder toward her bedroom.
Oh, God, had they been so obvious? Apparently so. "Tim's not here," she
said briskly. "Uh, we broke up last night."
"Really?" She heard the happiness in his voice, glimpsed it on his face
before he added more solemnly. "I mean, really? What happened?"
"Uh." She wondered how much she should tell him. Not all of it, of course.
There were some things he didn't need to know until he was older, if at all.
"We talked it over and decided a long-distance relationship wasn't going to
work," she finally said. "Tim said he's never had one that lasted very long
and you know your dad and I didn't work out."
Ralph stood silently for several minutes, pursing his lips before asking,
"Does this mean there's still a chance Walter can be my dad?"
Oh, God. He looked so hopeful, so excited at the prospect. "I don't
know," she answered truthfully. "It's not just up to me, you know."
"Walter wants it too."
"It's not that simple, sweetheart." She set down the milk carton, drawing
him into her arms when she saw his crestfallen face.
"Why not?" Ralph scrunched his nose. "Do you still love Tim?"
He wasn't holding back, was he? "I like him. A lot. I thought I could love
him. But. . ."
"You already love Walter?"
"Like I said, it's not that simple." Straightening back up, she began stirring
the batter. "Hey, what if we went over to the garage after we eat and get
dressed?" She really should check on how Walter was faring. Plus, she remembered
with a grimace, she'd never disinfected Sylvester's desk.
"Can I bring my telescope?"
"Yes." Although Paige didn't know if the hungover genius would be up to
inspecting the new camera.
"Awesome." He ran out of the kitchen, no doubt going to get ready.
Paige smiled wearily. Who was she kidding? It was that simple.
And that's what scared her the most.