Level-headed Paige, the woman who could talk sense under pressure.

The woman he’d kissed with a depth of passion he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Maybe ever.

The woman he felt next to him with every fiber of his being, her warmth, her gentle scent, the subtle movements of her body against his. During the past few minutes, he’d instinctively shifted closer. He honestly didn’t know what he would have done without her. Nor did he know how he’d ever pay her back for her help.

Just the way he didn’t have a clue how to deal with his brother and sister—and Theresa.

But a Maverick didn’t waffle, damn it. He didn’t hide. And he definitely didn’t back down. He had to look Kelsey in the eye and make it clear that he was done with all these crazy turns his life had taken. That he was finally going to get things on track toward some semblance of normal.

Whatever the hell that was.

Only, just as he opened his mouth to lay it all out, his stomach growled. Loud enough that Paige’s eyes widened.

As if a light bulb had flashed on over her head, she declared, “We should eat.”

“Eat?” Evan and his sister spoke in surprise at the same moment.

“Yes.” Paige smiled at Kelsey, then turned her gaze on him. “And while we eat, we can get to know each other better.”

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Evan knew she was absolutely right. He was on overload. And he’d learned a long time ago not to make decisions in the heat of the moment.

“Let’s do pizza so we don’t put Mrs. M to a lot of trouble,” Paige said.

Whitney had always treated the Mortimers like servants. They were paid generously, so she thought that meant they didn’t need please and thank you. Paige, however, was never without a kind word. He’d been comparing the sisters damn near every minute since he’d returned. It struck him now that he always had.

“Anyone gluten-free, lactose intolerant, vegetarian, despise anchovies?”

Paige’s laundry list of pizza no-no’s brought a laugh from Kelsey. “We love pizza with everything on it except the anchovies.”

Paige wrinkled her nose. “Nobody likes anchovies.”

“I like them,” Evan said.

“You do not,” she scoffed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then why have we never once had anchovies on pizza?”

“Because Susan always said they smell up the whole room.”

“Susan is a very wise woman,” Paige said, her smile so sweet, so all-encompassing that his heart actually melted. Just as it had two nights ago when he’d held her in his arms and kissed her with all the longing pent up inside of him.

As their back-and-forth about pizza toppings brought him down off the emotional tightrope, his gut feelings said that as long as Paige was here, he just might be able to get through this crazy day in one piece.

With Paige by his side, maybe he could handle just about anything.

Chapter Eleven

The pizza was gooey and good. Despite the growling of his stomach, Evan hadn’t thought he’d be able to eat. But Paige somehow made it work, temporarily calming high emotions and defusing the biggest mines in the minefield.

No wonder Whitney had been so biting, so hurtful to her sister all these years. She’d been jealous.

“Why did you choose accounting, Kelsey?” Paige asked, keeping the conversation rolling, though tension still hung thick in the room.

“I was a bookkeeper for a local company when I was still in high school.” Paige had already drawn out of them that both Kelsey and her brother had worked for their educations and received scholarships. Evan was glad they hadn’t needed to resort to student loans, which could be crippling after graduation. “I like how numbers fit together,” she continued. “If you’re out of balance, there’s always an answer. It’s like piecing together a puzzle.”

“She wants to be CFO of a big company someday.” Theresa hadn’t said much, but when she did speak, it was with pride for the twins. She finally looked up from her plate and into Evan’s eyes. “Like you.”

“Evan owns an investment company, Mom,” Kelsey said. “I’ve got a lot more to learn at the CPA firm before I can move into industry.”

“I know,” Theresa answered softly, dropping her gaze again. “I just don’t want you to underestimate yourself.”

“We all have to start somewhere.” Paige refilled her glass of ice water from the pitcher Mrs. M had put on the table. “What about you, Tony? What do you want to do once you finish your master’s?”

Paige kept them talking, steering them past anything that had the potential for friction. She had a clear mission—for them to get to know one another—and she was sticking to it.

It was obvious why she made such a good psychologist. Evan had always known how smart, caring, and giving she was—but now there was a deep sensual awareness too. One he could no longer ignore.

The scent of apples in her silky hair, the sexy curves filling out her jeans, the softness of her skin beneath her clothes. Her eyelashes were long, sweeping down over her cheekbones every time she blinked. Her nose had the tiniest tilt to it, and her lips were lush and moist as she licked off a daub of pizza sauce.

Even in the middle of all this craziness, he couldn’t turn off his reaction to her—and it was with no small amount of difficulty that he forced his attention back to his brother.

“I’m interested in building manufacturing equipment,” Tony was saying. “Automation. I’m working on my master’s thesis right now.”




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