I laughed again when she threw herself back down, her back to me again. “Nice sneaking a peek there, Secret Agent Gibson. Hoping to catch a glimpse of something?”
Josie gave an irritated sigh. “Shut up, Black.”
“Why would I do that when it’s so much more fun to tease you?”
“Because you like-slash-love your dick and probably want to keep it.”
“Hold up. Are you threatening the very piece of anatomy you were just hoping to sneak a peek at?” I pulled off my socks, left my jeans in place, and laid back down. Josie had been checking me out. I was back to grinning at the ceiling.
“My threat’s about to turn into a reality if you don’t zip it and go to sleep like I thought you were dying to do five minutes ago.”
“Come on, it’s no big deal. It’s perfectly natural to want to inspect a fine specimen like myself. I’d be happy to give you the whole show—the full monty—free of charge. But only looking, no touching. Or wait, you prefer peeking, right?” Our endless banter felt good. It took me back to a happier time before things had gotten so complicated between us.
“Sleep now or forever hold your peace, Black.” I was working up my reply when she added, “I mean it.” From her tone, I knew she was done. She’d hit her bullshit limit.
I’d learned enough to know when to back off. After a few minutes of silence, I was close to falling asleep when I felt the mattress quaking. It was so infinitesimal, I was surprised I’d even noticed. When I glanced at Josie’s back, I understood where it was coming from. She was shivering. I didn’t think next. I responded.
“You’re shivering.” I scooted up behind her and draped my arm around her before pulling her close. I couldn’t tell if she was cold. The only thing I felt was her body pressed into mine.
She didn’t pull away. In fact, she seemed to burrow deeper into my arms. “Yeah, well, I had to go and save this a**hole from freezing to death.”
I tilted my face into her hair and smiled. “Plus, you’re wearing lingerie to bed.”
“Plus that.” I heard the smile in her voice.
We didn’t say anything else for a while. We just lay together until our breathing synced and her shivering stopped. I’d been on that bed with Josie before in the most intimate way a man and woman could be together, but I hadn’t felt connected to her the way I did with my arms around her, both of us mostly clothed. I wasn’t familiar with that kind of intimacy, but it felt strangely more intimate than sex. I was close to falling asleep, and I was sure she already must have been, when I whispered, “Better now?”
I wasn’t expecting a response, but the last thing I heard before letting myself go was a quiet, “Better now.”
Chapter Six
I WASN’T A dreamer. Never had been, never would be. That translated into my sleep state as well. I didn’t dream at night. Or at least not the kind I remembered when I woke up.
Waking up in Josie’s bed, I remembered so many different dreams, it didn’t seem possible that much could have run through my brain in only one night. I wanted to discount the new dream phenomenon with sleeping in a warm house, in a soft bed, but I couldn’t even bullshit myself into believing that. I knew what had caused the dreams. Or who.
A certain someone who wasn’t curled up beside me like she’d been all night. Peeling my eyes open, I scanned Josie’s empty room. If it wasn’t a work day, I wouldn’t have minded throwing the covers over my head and passing out for a few more hours. I hadn’t slept that great in my whole life. I hadn’t woken up feeling so good ever. That might have had something to do with not passing out with a heavy dose of whiskey in me, but it also had a whole lot to do with sleeping beside Josie. Falling asleep beside her was so . . . peaceful. So easy. Those concepts—peaceful and easy—were terms I wasn’t familiar with. They were ideas I’d never really thought I wanted to become familiar with until last night. Until I felt them so strongly I wondered if my whole life, I’d been doing it wrong.
Unfortunately, a good night’s sleep hadn’t eased my confusion. If anything, it had only increased. Confusion was the new normal for me, but one thing I had been able to pinpoint—Josie was somehow connected to it all. The confusion, the dual consciousnesses warring with one another, the steady stream of questions, the dry river of answers . . . it all connected to her somehow.
My life had become one giant cluster-fuck all because of a woman. I suppose, given my history, that wasn’t so hard to believe. What was hard to believe was which woman had brought it on. The girl I’d grown up with. My childhood friend, my adolescent secret obsession, my biggest mistake. That was a whole lot of screwed up I just wasn’t up to working out without a cup of coffee in me.
Rolling over, I sat up. My gaze immediately landed on Josie’s vanity mirror across the room. Not because I was so relentlessly vain I couldn’t go thirty seconds after waking up without checking myself out—I might have been a cocky son of a bitch, but vain was a stretch—but because it was impossible to miss the red lipstick note taking up the whole mirror.
Stay put until I give you the all clear. I’d hate to spend the summer picking shotgun shell out of your ass.
I couldn’t decide what I liked more: the oozing smart-ass in Josie’s note or that she’d written it in lipstick on a mirror. Because, you know, a paper and pen were so inconvenient.
My jeans were still in place—something that was as fortunate as it was unfortunate—so after grabbing my shirt from the floor, I slid into it and stood up. How long would I have to wait before Josie deemed it safe for me to come out? Hopefully soon because my stomach was rumbling something fierce and Willow Springs was, judging from how high the sun was, expecting me at work at least three hours ago. Neil was the kind of employer who was quick to forgive, but I wasn’t. He depended on me, and I didn’t want to repay that by disappointing him.
“All clear!”
If Josie was yelling at that volume, her parents had to be a state away. I didn’t need to be invited twice. Hurrying out of the room, I jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen. Josie finished pouring a couple cups of coffee before sitting at the table.
She motioned at the chair beside her but couldn’t seem to look at me. “I made some breakfast. If you’re hungry.” My stomach answered for me. “Dig in. I wasn’t sure exactly what you’d want, so I made a little bit of everything.” Josie bit her lip and waved at the spread on the table. I’d been so preoccupied with staring at her that I hadn’t noticed what was for breakfast.
“Whoa, Joze. This isn’t breakfast, this is a bloody feast.” I’d seen that much food at a table before—when I was in the Walkers’ kitchen and they were feeding twenty hungry cowboys.
“I know, I know. I overdid it. My mom’s a firm believer in having too much food rather than not enough food, so I suppose I picked up that from her.”
I came around the table and took a seat. When I was that close to her, it was hard for me to look her straight on, too. “Too much food is having leftovers for the next day. This . . . well this is having leftovers until next year.” Really, there was so much meat on the table, it was a miracle it hadn’t buckled from the weight. That was just the start. I saw so many different types of eggs, I couldn’t even identify them all. The pile of pancakes in the center of the table was a true engineering feat. Fruit, fried potatoes, pitchers of juice . . . It was a damn breakfast buffet fit for the cavalry. “Did your parents already eat?”
“They left earlier this morning to run some errands in town. I made this for you.” She scanned the table again, biting her lip even harder.
“For me?”
“Well, for us.”
I could recall every last kind gesture a person had paid me in my life—they were that few—and Josie putting together a breakfast like that for me, for us, just secured a top five spot. I was momentarily struck speechless. “What are we doing just gawking at it then? Let’s dig in.”
I smiled at her, and she returned it. Getting the shy act from Josie was something I expected about as frequently as her inviting me to the nail salon. Basically, never. I wasn’t sure how to take it.
I loaded up on fried potatoes and sausage while Josie went for the pancakes and fruit. After shoveling most of my first serving down, along with two full cups of coffee, I gave my stomach a break to process. The food was good, just as solid as the stuff that came out of the Walkers’ kitchen. Josie knew how to cook. When had that happened?
“So . . . how did you sleep?” I gave her the vocal equivalent of a nudge.
“Not bad,” she answered, lifting a shoulder. At least she’d thrown on a bathrobe. After last night and her breakfast, I wasn’t sure what I would do next. Had Josie still been wearing nothing more than glorified lingerie, the outlook for keeping my hands to myself wasn’t good. Lifting her gaze to mine, she lifted an eyebrow. “How did you sleep?”
I didn’t even try to dim my grin. “Not bad.”
Josie shook her head and laughed softly. At least we were past the shy act. I wasn’t sure how to act around shy Josie, but the part-amused, part-irritated one I’d had a decade and a half of experience with.
“So? Parents? Dad? Shotgun? How long before I can expect it to be aimed my way?” Last night I’d been too beat to think about what came next, but after a good night’s sleep and breakfast, I was able to form a string of clear thoughts.
“Provided you don’t go and steal his daughter’s ‘virtue’ which, hell, you and I know that’s two years too late”—Josie shot me a smirk before popping a grape in her mouth—“you should be good. I caught them this morning before they left, explained your situation, and they agreed to let you stay here for a while. In the guest room.”
I stopped refilling my coffee cup mid-way through. “Wait. What? Last night was a one-time deal. It was wonderful and amazing and just what I needed, but it’s not happening again.”
Josie tossed another grape in her mouth. “No need for a recap. I know I totally rocked your world, baby.” My eyebrows drew together before she shoved my arm. “Lighten up. Can’t take a joke this early in the morning?”
Apparently not when Josie was throwing out sexual innuendos and I was fixated on her mouth. And the grapes she kept popping in there. And the way she sucked one for a moment before biting into it. Holy shit. Proverbial cold shower or face slap or something.
“I can take a joke anytime you want to send one my way, Joze. Bring it.” I had to force myself to stop staring at her mouth because apparently I was incapable of talking and staring at the same time. “But by last night being a one-time deal, I didn’t mean that in the obvious fantasy you’ve created of what happened between us last night. Come on, if we’re making up fantasies, it was me that rocked your world.” Josie made a Ha! sound. “But hating to have to bring our filthy fantasies to an end and face reality—sleeping in your bed and squatting at your place was a one-night deal. I wasn’t planning on moving in with you and your parents indefinitely. I’m not imposing on you all like that. No way.”