Jen sighed and rested her handcondescendingly on Payson’s. “Since Mom and Dad died, you’ve been abit obsessive about finding Mr. Perfect. You’re nearly thirty andhaven’t even caught a glimpse of him. Maybe it’s time to wake upand realize that perfect doesn’t exist. Tony wasn’t what I haddreamed of. Love involves a lot of compromise, sometimes includingyour own dreams. Don’t cancel the date. I’ll look forward tohearing how it goes.”
Frustrated, she was done arguing with hersister. Jen could be damn stubborn. “Fine. You’d better head out,so you get home before the kids worry. And work on that compromisepiece of your relationship.”
Maybe she didn’t need to conclude with thelast part, but she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t looking forperfect. Perfect led to a boring relationship. She’d rather staysingle forever than settle again, but Jen would never understandthat concept.
…
Ronan heard the entire conversation from upfront. He’d been keeping his distance from Payson all week, and ithad been killing him. He was a damn mess, and she was soincredible. She deserved someone successful, confident. Despite hersister’s craziness, she had a point. No one was perfect, Ronanleast of all.
Jen was a piece of work, though. No wonderPayson had moved away from Boston. Not that Ronan was any prize,but she hadn’t even bothered to remember his name. Hadn’t given himmore than a passing glance. Not like Payson; she saw past his gruffexterior. She was far too amazing to settle for a guy like him.
As Payson walked her sister out the backdoor, Ronan locked up the front and met her in the storeroom.Practically slamming the door behind her when she came back in,Payson leaned against the door as soon as it closed and groaned.“I’m so glad she’s finally gone. I love her but holy crap she’sself-absorbed. And pushy.”
Ronan couldn’t help but smile at herexhausted expression as she pout-laughed. “I’m sure she meanswell.”
Rocking her head against the door, Paysonwhimpered. “Really, I ought to fake some wedding pictures and tellher I eloped, so she’ll get off my back. I have no interest ingoing out with Gregory again, or anyone like him. If I’d said I wascancelling the date, she would have stayed all night and torturedme.”
If things continued on the current path, heand Payson were going to end up in bed sooner than later, which,knowing both of them, would lead to more. Neither was thefriends-with-benefits sort. Certainly not the one-nighter sort.
His life was a damn mess. Unsettled. What ifYoung found him? Even if he could guarantee her safety, what if hecouldn’t ever accept his past? If he couldn’t accept himself, howcould he expect Payson to accept him?
As much as it physically hurt to even say it,he needed to stop things before they went too far. “Maybe she’sright. You already have the date set up for tomorrow, why don’t yougive him one last chance?”
The hurt look that flashed across her facewas heartbreaking. Standing upright, she smoothed her dress. “I’mheading upstairs, mind locking up?” Without waiting for hisresponse, she headed out the door. Never had he hated himself morethan he did in that moment.
12
Friday frickin’ night. Ronan had been working on theshelving for twelve hours, only taking a quick break for lunch whenhis mother had stopped by with another sandwich delivery. She’dinsisted Payson come on back and the three had enjoyed the homemademessy sandwiches together.
His mother was making it a bit of a habit.For the last week, his mother appeared at noon with sandwiches forthem all, insisting they stop and visit. Sometimes she hardly atemore than a bite or so herself, when she found some excuse toleave. At least she didn’t keep crying anymore about how happy shewas that he was home.
Payson had left on her date nearly two hoursago. She was welcome to date whoever she wanted. Her sister hadcertainly thought Payson should give Gregory a chance. Ronan had noclaim. Tried to avoid making a claim.
He’d quickly remembered himself after theirbrief moment last weekend. Reminding himself that she had aboyfriend. He’d managed to keep his hands off her the rest of theweek. Good thing too, after hearing her sister’s rant aboutPayson’s efforts to find Mr. Perfect, he reminded himself he wasfar from perfect. Not even close to what she was looking for.
He’d seen the fancy-pants neurologist come into check out her store before escorting her out. He’d acted politeenough, telling Payson her shop was “lovely” and “quaint.” He’dlooked at Ronan like he was trash; all grimy and covered in sawdustwith a ratty white shirt and jeans that had clearly been pulled outof Chase’s giveaway pile.
Sort of how Jen had looked at him earlier inthe week. His wild hair, his scraggly beard were nearly down to hiscollarbone. Not that Ronan had been much of a gentleman either,keeping his responses limited to feral snarls, playing up the lowlygrunt worker façade.
Asshole had fawned all over Payson, hand onher back as they walked, complimenting her midnight blue velvetdress with its plunging neckline, her long pendant necklace drawinghis eyes down to her spectacular cleavage. Pervert. Not that Ronanhadn’t been admiring the view, but at least he was subtle aboutit.
She was probably out laughing and having agreat time with Dr. Hot-Stuff in his spiffy black suit and tie. Andthe pink shirt, really? Clearly loved his own body, but his handswere pristinely un-calloused. Ronan looked down at his own roughhands, felt his own scruffy beard.
Payson and her Bond thing. Ronan consideredhimself more Bourne than Bond… not that it was any more accurate,but more raw anyway. That pansy she was out with was more AustinPowers than James Bond. Aiden was more her type; why wasn’t shedating his brother? They seemed to be good friends.
Aiden might appreciate her quirkiness. Allgorgeous on the outside; feminine and delicate. On the inside, shewas a fireball. Competitive, bossy, daring.
Better than him. Better than the asshole shewas out with. Hell, Aiden wasn’t good enough for her either;player, pop-off.
He rather liked her crazy side. Furious withhimself, realizing he’d put her on a damn pedestal, he almostcalled it a night. Almost.
At last, he heard the hum of the asshole’sMercedes SUV pulling up to the street. Not that he’d waited up forher. He legitimately had a lot of work to do.
He was nearly done with the shelves now, justsome finishing touches. The table structure was finished, and theentire unit would be done as soon as he finished the shelves to gounder the table. He’d see if she wanted them stained or leftnatural after he’d sanded.
Silently, he stood by the back door, whichwas conveniently located right at the base of the steps to Payson’sapartment. Couldn’t have chosen a better stakeout position if he’dtried. Not that he was spying; he was retired and that would bewrong. Their voices were muffled, but he could hear wellenough.
Payson’s tinkling voice echoed through theheavy metal door, “Thanks for a wonderful evening. Goodnight.”
