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little boy yesterday?”
    “Again, who are you and why were you in my bushes?” Paige responded without answering the question.
    The man held out a hand. “I’m Simon Moore. A reporter for the
Bryson City Journal.”
Paige shook his hand and felt her insides cool.
    His eyes zeroed in on Dylan, and Paige watched Dylannarrow his eyes at the man. “And you’re the doctor, right? The little boy’s dad?”
    “Uncle,” Dylan replied.
    A “gotcha” look appeared in the reporter’s eyes, and Paige grimaced at Dylan’s slip. He’d just confirmed that the reporter had the right people. “I’m sorry about the hiding thing. You didn’t want to talk in the hospital and I thought I could—”
    “—convince me to talk to you by ambushing me outside my home?” Paige raised a brow in disbelief. The man didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed.
    “Look,” Dylan said before Mr. Moore could open his mouth again. “She’s still not feeling well and needs to get inside and rest. Why don’t you come back another time?”
    “Actually, don’t bother. There’s not a story here, all right? Please.” Paige softened her tone. “I have a headache and want to lie down. Feel free to report what happened, just leave me out of it.”
    “Why?” A calculating look crossed his face as he assessed Paige, then Dylan. “Do you two have something to hide?”
    Paige drew in a pained breath. “No, Mr. Moore, we don’t have anything to hide. Will is a little boy who needs a little less excitement in his life. I simply …” She trailed off. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You’re just going to write what you want.” She gave a snort of disgust. “Happy reporting.”
    She stepped inside, and Dylan followed after one last look at the reporter who stood sideways, speaking into his little voice-activated recorder before stomping toward the car Dylan just now noticed parked two houses down.
    Once inside, Dylan shut the door behind him. “He looks familiar.”
    Her eyes drilled into his and he raised a brow. She asked, “Where have you seen him before?”
    “I think he was the guy standing outside your hospital room earlier.”
    “What guy?”
    Dylan thought she looked pale, and he wondered if it was from the pain in her head or the thought of the reporter. She definitely hadn’t been interested in any media attention at the hospital. He couldn’t help it that a small part of him wondered if maybe she
did
have something to hide. His gut twisted at the thought. “When I came to see if you needed a ride earlier, there was someone standing outside your door. I asked him if I could help him and he said he had the wrong room.”
    She stood perfectly still, thinking hard about something. Dylan wondered what was going on inside her head.
    “What did he look like?”
    Shaking his head, Dylan squinted as he thought. “I’m not sure. He had on jeans and a green polo shirt. A ball cap covered his head and face. I didn’t get a good look at him.”
    Paige’s eyes met his and he could tell she was processing this information. “That guy had on jeans and a green polo shirt but no ball cap. I’m willing to bet that’s not a coincidence.”
    Dylan shook his head. “He was probably hoping to catch you alone in the hospital to try and get a story out of you.” Shrugging, he gave her a smile. “Anyway, I’m relieved you’re not interested in doing the story for that reporter.”
    “It’s no problem. I’m not into that kind of thing.”
    “You’re right about Will. He has been through enough.
    He doesn’t need all the excitement a story and pictures in the newspaper would bring.”
    She smiled. “Then I’m glad I told him no.”
    Dylan pulled his gaze from the beautiful woman in front of him, put the reporter out of his mind and glanced around. They were in the family room. A breakfast nook and kitchen lay to the left. “Nice place. You haven’t decorated much, but it’s a very functional, open layout.”
    She