Текст книги "Finders Keepers"

Автор книги: Nicole Williams

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

I STARED AT myself in the mirror until the steam from the shower fogged it up. Again, not a vanity thing. It was a was-Josie-right? thing. Did I not have a clue what was good for me? I’d always believed I was one of the people who’d drawn the short straw in life. I’d accepted that fortune favored the few, and I wasn’t in that tight circle. I’d accepted life was a chore some days, a damn obstacle course other days, and out to get me most days. Could twenty-one years of waving my middle finger at social norms have given me a skewed sense of right and wrong? Of what was good and what was bad for me?

Instead of driving my fist into the mirror like I wanted to, I gripped the edges of the sink until my knuckles went white. Up until recently, I’d never questioned anything and everything. I had all the answers. Lately, I had exchanged all the answers for all the questions. I was drowning in an ocean of questions, and even though I knew the answers would eliminate the questions, I was afraid of what the answers would be. I was afraid the answers would do the opposite of set me at peace. So my options were to stay lost in a sea of questions or drown under the weight of the answers.

Yeah, I was fucked. I barely stopped my fist before it pounded through the mirror. Not even a second later, a different pounding sounded. It came from the bathroom door. “Yeah?”

“Unless you want to come out smelling like honeysuckle body wash—which you’re totally free to use, by the way—I brought you a bar of soap.”

With handful of words from Josie, my mood shifted to a few levels above depressed. “Thanks, Joze. You know how I hate honeysuckle.”

“I’m not doing this for you, Black. I’m doing this for your date tonight. I wouldn’t want her to crawl into bed with a man whose junk smelt like honeysuckle when she thought she was in for a wild night with Garth Black. That’s a way to crush a girl’s fantasies.”

“You’re so selfless.” I chuckled before wiping the steam from the mirror with my forearm. “Hey, Joze? You wouldn’t happen to have a blade I could use to shave my face, would you? I’m about to turn into Grizzly Adams.” I didn’t mind a little bit of scruff and, let’s face it, neither did the ladies, but there was scruff and there was the monster I was growing on my face.

“Um, yeah, I think so.” The doorknob twisted. “Are you decent?” That was a question I didn’t need to answer. “Never mind. Most obvious question ever. How about . . . are you clothed?”

I glanced down. “Mostly.”

“Given you said you were naked last night, but the opposite turned out to be true, I’m going to go with the same trend this morning and assume that you saying you’re mostly clothed means you’re bare-ass naked.”

The girl’s reasoning was solid, but trying to apply reason to me was a huge error. “There are no bare asses in view. I promise. Unfortunately.”

“You swear to god and hope to die?”

I smiled. That had been our favorite way to promise things as kids. “I’ll even stick a needle in my eye.”

“I’m trusting you, Black.” The door opened slowly before she slipped inside. Her eyes were sealed closed. “As much as trusting Garth Black is counterintuitive.”

I settled my backside on the ledge of the sink. “See? No bare asses in view since it’s sitting on your bathroom sink. Only bare fronts in view.” Josie’s face ironed out in shock before her eyes flashed open. Just as quickly, they narrowed on me. “Made you look.” I winked.

“You and those jeans.” She tossed the bar of soap at me. “You seem more like the guy who’d be waltzing around in his underwear every chance he got.”

I shrugged. “I probably would be, but that would require wearing underwear in the first place. Which I don’t. Which you might remember if . . .” Insert foot here.

Thankfully, Josie didn’t look as uncomfortable as I felt. “Even if I hadn’t been so drunk I couldn’t remember my name, I’d still repress that night into the darkest recesses of my mind.”

“You mean the Black recesses of your mind?” The words and smile I’d given her totally deserved a slap across the face, but instead she gave me a look that made me feel half a foot tall. Pulling open a drawer, she grabbed a razor and flashed it in front of my face. “Do I look like the kind of guy who uses a razor to shave my face? A pink one at that?”

“No, you look like a guy who doesn’t have a lot of options, and unless he wants to go into the rug-growing business, he’ll take what’s offered. With a smile and a thank you,” Josie finished with a sigh. “Besides, if you don’t use a razor like this, what do you use? An electric one? I think my mom still has the one she uses—”

I lifted my hand. I did not want Mrs. Gibson’s electric shaver—wherever she used that sucker—up against my face. “I use a straight-edge. I’ve got one in my truck, so I’ll just grab it and shave tomorrow.”

“A straight-edge? Isn’t that one of those things that can slice through a man’s neck with just a hint too much pressure?” I shrugged. “Seems a little barbaric given there are modern options and advancements.” She waved the pink razor at me again.

I grabbed it and tossed it in the garbage can. “A barbaric tool for a barbaric man.” Josie shoved my chest, but that time, I caught her wrists and pinned them behind her back, grinning victoriously at her. She rolled her eyes at me. “I warned you with my intimidating ‘or else’ threat. What are you going to do now, tough girl?”

She didn’t waste any time trying to physically over power me. She didn’t go for the cheap shot and knee me in the nuts either. She just stood there for a few moments, focusing on a spot just past my shoulder, as the wheels turned in her head. She was working something out so hard I was waiting for smoke to billow from her ears. A few seconds later, I saw the light bulb go off. Her eyes widened for a split second before a smile so small it could barely be detected fell into place.

And then, her eyes shifted up. They locked onto mine, and something in hers softened something in mine, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do more: get down on my hands and knees to worship her or throw her up against a wall and screw until we passed out. My breathing picked up, my heartbeat even more so, and she was still a half a foot away from me. When she stepped forward so that her body, and all its curves and bends and soft spots and hard spots, formed into mine, my breath and my heart stopped altogether. My mind was made up. I was one stalled heartbeat away from doing what I needed to do most with her when a door slamming jolted us out of whatever fog we’d been in.

“Josie! We’re home, sweet pea.”

“Shoot,” Josie hissed, breaking free of my hold and rushing toward the door.

I took another moment to break free of whatever spell she’d put me under, then uttered my own estimation of the current situation. It wasn’t Josie’s PG version either. “I thought you said they were running errands in town.”

“They are. They were.” Josie fumbled with the doorknob like she was hoping a lock would magically appear. A pair of footsteps marched up the stairs. The next thing Josie hissed wasn’t a shoot.

“What do you want me to do? There isn’t a window for me to jump out of, and I’m not a damn gopher who can burrow my way out of here,” I said.

“Stop being such a smart-ass.”

“Start giving me a little more direction and a little less attitude.”

“Josie? Are you in the bathroom?” Mrs. Gibson asked, almost outside the door.

“Uh, yeah, Mom. I am. Just a minute!” Josie powered up to me, and lowered her voice. “Sorry I don’t have a lot of experience sneaking guys in and out of rooms. I thought you were the expert on this.”

“Sneaking guys out of rooms?” I gave her a look.

“Unbelievable. You still manage to be a comedian when your life’s thirty seconds away from being over.”

I never knew a woman whispering could be more intimidating than one screaming, but I made sure to take note. “Fine. Since my options in the escape route department are limited, I’ll hop in the shower and hide out there.”

“Josie, I have to show you this dress I picked up for you. You’re going to love it.” The door was just opening when I dodged behind the shower curtain. Who walked in on someone in the bathroom without being invited? Oh, yeah. This is Mrs. Gibson we were talking about. She didn’t do personal space well—or keeping her thoughts to herself.

“Hold up, Mom!” Josie called, but it was too late. Mrs. Gibson was already in the bathroom. How did I know? Heaps of experience in lying in wait, or hiding from, all sorts of people. Boyfriends, husbands, and lovers mostly, but name a kind of person and a certain place, and chances are I’d hidden from it or in it. I could detect when the air moved inside a room from a door opening or closing. I was just that good. Or, thanks to the things I was doing leading up to finding myself in that kind of a situation, I was just that bad.

“Would you look at this? Isn’t it to die for?” Mrs. Gibson said, her excitement so extreme I could feel it.

“Yeah, Mom, it’s . . . great.” Josie’s voice bounced around the room, which meant she kept looking over her shoulder. If she didn’t cut that out, mama bear would figure out what was going on, and then papa bear would get his gun, and then I would be a Garth-skin rug on display in front of their fireplace.

“I thought you could wear it tonight for dinner. It’s just your color. Brings out the gold in your hair and eyes.”

“Sure, that sounds . . . great,” Josie said. I sighed quietly. The girl really didn’t have any experience hiding a guy from her parents. She was a damn rookie. “But are you throwing some party for dinner tonight I don’t know about? Why do you want me dressing up in silk chiffon?”

“Didn’t I tell you? Oh, dear me, it must have slipped my mind . . . Your father and I invited Colt Mason over for dinner. He’s such a nice boy, Josie, and we haven’t seen him around lately. He comes from such a good family, and all of that money . . .” Mrs. Gibson sounded close to fainting from the thought of it.

I was close to boiling over. I did not want Colt Mason over there, sitting around Josie’s dining room table, checking her out in whatever pretty dress her mom had picked up for her. The mere thought of him running his eyes all over her made me want to squish his head with my boot until it went splat.

I had a lot of anger. I was working on it.

“That’s great, Mom, but tonight is Garth’s first night here. I thought we could do a dinner with just the four of us. You know, ease him in before having a bunch of company over.”

“It’s just Colt. One extra person hardly qualifies as a bunch of company. If you ask me, Garth Black could learn a lesson or two from Colt. Let’s hope he takes notes tonight.”

Colt Mason was a grade A poser douche. The day I took notes from him was the same one I tied a noose around my neck and pulled the lever myself.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” Josie sounded about as uncomfortable as I was pissed off. “Colt and Garth aren’t exactly best friends.”

“They don’t have to be friends, but they do have to tolerate each other while under my roof. And we both know who would be the first to break that rule.”

Yeah, that made three of us who knew that. No matter if I was under the Gibsons’ roof or inside a seedy bar or he was heading into that damn tanning salon where he kept a standing weekly appointment—I didn’t tolerate Colt Mason.

“Sweetie, were you about to take a shower? Of course you were. I’m sorry. You’d better start warming that water up now if you want a warm shower before lunch. With these frigid temperatures, the water’s taking its sweet time heating up. I had to wait a good ten minutes before the shower downstairs was ready, and the water up here takes much longer to warm up.”

I glared up at the shower head.

“That’s okay. I’m sure it won’t take that long.” Josie’s voice had a nervous wobble.

Mrs. Gibson let out a long sigh. “You are a stubborn one, Josie Belle. Fine. If you don’t want to turn it on, I’ll do it.” A pair of heels only got a couple of clacks toward the shower.

“No worries. I got it.” Josie’s nervous wobble was gone, but something close to frantic had taken its place. “You’re right. I should warm it up first.”

Josie’s shower was small—old farmhouse small. I was already cramped up as small as I’d go on the floor of the tub. There was no way I could cramp up smaller to position my body away from the shower head, so it looked like I’d be getting that shower after all—minus the warm water. Josie peeked her head inside the shower curtain, an apologetic look on her face. Mouthing I’m so, so sorry, she cranked on the water and ducked back out again. The pipes inside the old farmhouse didn’t work as quickly as modern pipes. That gave me a few seconds to brace myself.

When the water finally burst out of the shower head, I realized how wrong Mrs. Gibson had been. The water wasn’t cold. Not even close.

No, it was fucking glacial.

I had to clamp my mouth closed to ensure I wouldn’t let out some sort of hoot, holler, or curse. Once I was certain of that, all there was left to do was wrap my arms around my chest and curl up as tight as I could and wait it out. So much for saving me from the freezing cold. Josie had simply removed the threat of one form and replaced it with one that was twice as severe.

“Do you know what time Garth will be arriving?” The oozing excitement in Mrs. Gibson’s voice as she talked about Mason? There wasn’t a scrap of it left when she mentioned me.

“Um . . . later?”

Killer answer, Joze. Killer.

Mrs. Gibson let out a familiar sigh. I knew where Josie had learned hers. “I know you and Garth go way back, but you know how your father and I feel about that boy.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Josie said. The strength in her voice that I was used to was back in place. “And you know how I feel about you two feeling that way about him. All your opinions about him are due to rumors and hearsay.”

I was drenched in freezing cold water that was slowly numbing every square inch of my skin, but in that moment, I felt nothing but warmth. Josie standing up for me brought a strange mix of emotions. All of them good.

“They aren’t rumors when I’m friends with the mothers whose daughters have had their hearts crushed and reputations ruined by that boy. It’s not hearsay when I’ve seen him drinking straight out of the bottle at ten o’clock in the morning.” Mrs. Gibson was working herself up. I could almost imagine her meticulously styled hair standing on end. “Don’t let your friendship with him blind you to the person he is. That’s not the kind of man your father or me want you hanging around. We’re not letting him move in because he’s ever proven himself to us. We’re letting him move in because you’ve proven yourself to us. You’ve proven capable of making good choices for yourself, and as long as you keep up that pattern, Dad and me will continue to let you do your thing. Even if that includes inviting Garth Black to be a houseguest.” There was some rustling—what I imagined was Mrs. Gibson hugging Josie—before her heels clacked toward the door.

“Just give him a chance, okay? Once you get to know him, you’ll see how wrong you are. There’s more to Garth Black than everyone thinks. Way more.”

“We’ll see,” Mrs. Gibson answered before clicking the door closed.

A second hadn’t passed before Josie threw open the shower curtain and inspected me like she was worried I’d stopped breathing. She reached for the shower lever.

“No, don’t,” I whispered in case Mrs. Gibson was within earshot. “It’s finally starting to get warm.”

Josie tested the shower water with her hand. “So? How bad are you?” Her forehead lined as she kneeled beside the tub.

“On a scale of cold to hypothermic . . .” I slid off my hat and tossed it out onto the floor. It was already soaked, so I don’t know why I bothered. “I’m a popsicle.” I worked a smile into place and almost groaned as the water continued to heat. I broke out in goose bumps it felt so good.

“God, Garth. I’m so sorry.” Josie tested the water again and adjusted the dial.

“It’s just a little bit of cold water. No big deal,” I understated. If I was asked to choose between getting thrown from a bull a dozen times in one night or sitting through another five minutes of glacial shower water pelting me while I had to lay immobile and take it, I’d take the bull without a moment’s thought. I wasn’t sure if that made me a badass or a baby. Wasn’t sure if I wanted the answer to that either.

“Not that. Although I am sorry about the water, too.” The sleeves of Josie’s bathrobe were getting wet, so she slipped out of it. Leaving on nothing but the pajamas that had the man stamp of approval all over them. “I’m sorry for the things she said. Those weren’t fair things to say, and they were hurtful, too. I wish you hadn’t heard any of that.”

Josie was right. The things her mom said were hurtful, but that’s not what I’d focused on. The thing I took away from that mother-daughter conversation was the way Josie had stuck up for me. I hadn’t asked her to; I never had and never would. She’d stuck up for me simply because she chose to. Just thinking about it brought the same tsunami of emotions I’d felt minutes ago. All of those good ones that were so foreign I couldn’t name them.

“Sure, what your mom said might have hurt my feelings, Joze.” She lifted an eyebrow. “And you’d better not tell anyone that I have any. Feelings, that is . . . But what she said wasn’t anything I haven’t heard before. What she said was fair because—even though I might try to dismiss it and you might try to soften it—it’s the truth. I’m not the kind of guy parents want their daughters hanging around. I have ruined plenty of reputations. I don’t think twice about getting rip-roaring drunk on a Sunday morning. I’m that guy. You know it, and I sure as hell do, too.”

She tilted her head, studying me. “Your point being?”

I sat up to look her straight on. “I know who I am. I’m not ashamed of that person. Most days.” I gave her a twisted smile. “I don’t want you to be ashamed of the person I am either. You don’t have to try to paint me as the misunderstood good guy to everyone and their dog.”

Her face broke for a moment, but it cleared, another moment later and then Josie did something I wasn’t expecting. She crawled over the side of the tub, closed the shower curtain, and tried to squeeze next to me. When that didn’t work, she spread out over me. The shower had her clothes and hair soaked in about ten seconds, and if her expression wasn’t so serious, I probably would have laughed at the two taking a shower fully clothed. Or I would have been kissing her, sucking every last drop of water from her lips.

“I’m not ashamed of you. I never have been, and I never will be,” she said as her fingers skimmed my forehead, sliding my hair to the side. The touch was intimate without being the kind of “intimate” I was used to. I’d gotten a lot of those innocent intimate touches from Josie lately. “The only reason I paint you as the misunderstood good guy is because that’s who you are. You’re the guy who shows up on his friend’s doorstep in the middle of the night if they call. You’re the guy who is one of the first guys at work in the morning and one of the last to leave. You’re the guy who played Cupid when his best friend almost lost the woman he loved. You’re the guy who would give your kidney to a homeless three-legged dog if it needed one. You’re that guy, Garth. You know it. And I’ve known it for a hell of a lot longer.”

A woman could render a man speechless one way, a way I was exceptionally familiar with . . . And there was that way. The things Josie had just said, the conviction in the words and her eyes . . . It was all a bit overwhelming. Especially as we shared a shower with her sprawled out on top of me. I wanted to give what she’d said more thought, but that was next to impossible when our bodies were perfectly aligned. Save for a couple pieces of clothing, I was one hip rock away from . . .

Shit. All my attempts to hide that I was turned on went out the window with that vivid thought. I knew that, given Josie’s position, she knew. That she knew I was turned on and hard and still didn’t get up to leave in a fit of disgust made me wonder why she was hanging around. That question, of course, led to the next . . . Why had Josie hung around my whole life? Why hadn’t she left me in the rearview like so many people before her? Why was she staring at me with that look in her eyes, almost like she wanted me to . . . kiss her?

I knew that look—that expectant, lidded-eye, flushed-cheek look. I was a pro at creating it and identifying it because that was my so-called gateway. If I could get a woman to look at me that way—to want me to kiss her—I could get her to go along for the rest of the ride, too. It had worked without exception, and I knew that if I kissed Josie, the same would probably happen. Especially when both of our bodies were responding to each other.

I couldn’t do that to Josie. Not again. She might have forgiven me for the first time I let my body take the steering wheel with her, but she wouldn’t if I gave in a second time. I sure as hell hadn’t forgiven myself for the first time, so if I did what I wanted to then, I would probably wake up tomorrow crushed by guilt.

So instead of coaxing her mouth to mine and sliding my hands down her body like they were twitching to do, I exhaled and forced that twisted smile of mine into position. That smile, with that gleam in my eyes, gave off the cool and removed vibe. The one I was notorious for. The one I knew Josie could see through, but the only one I could rely on to keep me from giving into what my body wanted. One part of me hoped she’d slap me for using a façade and march out of there, and the other part of me hoped she’d call bullshit and drop her mouth to mine and leave it there. Again, the two consciousnesses were at war with one another. “Did you just say all of that because you feel bad for the ice shower you gave me?”

“No, Garth. You and I both know you haven’t taken enough cold showers in your life when you should have.” She smiled at me, combing my hair with her fingers. “I said those things because they’re true. As much as I know you’d rather me accept the lie most of the time. But I don’t want to. Not anymore. I’m done lying to myself.”

Her face inched closer to mine, and the water dripping from her lips fell right onto mine. My heart couldn’t take much more. The rest of my body couldn’t either. Josie’s other hand ran up my side, stopping on my chest. It was like a rare form of torture. The woman of my dreams was able to touch me, but I couldn’t touch her back because once I did, both of our lives would be ruined. One touch, and we were as good as dead. I closed my eyes and tried to compose my thoughts. When Josie’s body slid down a bit, then back up, applying pressure in all the right places, composing anything was history.

My god, that woman would be the death of me.