355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Nicole Williams » Finders Keepers » Текст книги (страница 9)
Finders Keepers
  • Текст добавлен: 6 октября 2016, 19:31

Текст книги "Finders Keepers"


Автор книги: Nicole Williams



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“Two things, Joze.” I stepped back just to be safe. “Are you planning on continuing to hack that pie to pieces? If so, I’ll get the blender and milk ready, and we’ll serve cherry pie milkshakes instead.” The corners of her mouth curved up, and she gave the pie one more “hack.” “And numero dos . . . I do have your back, I am on your team, and I don’t want anyone but you to be the puppeteer of your life. Although strings on you and me playing master sounds like the kind of night I don’t want to miss out on.” If that comment didn’t make her come at me with the knife, I was good to go, so I stepped toward her until we were touching again. We exhaled at the same time. “But all jokes, teasing, and sadomasochism aside, Joze, it’s your life. You only get one shot at it, so live it like that.”

“Do I want to know how you know about sadomasochism?”

“It isn’t from personal experience, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I slid a piece of hair behind her ear and ran my hand down her back. “I haven’t crossed that off the bucket list yet. Wanna give me a hand with that?”

“I’m sure your hand’s been giving you plenty of help with that.”

“More help than I can handle.”

Josie gave a small laugh as the anger drained from her face. From hot to cold, breathing fire to soft laughs in five seconds. We were so much alike I sometimes felt like I was dealing with the female me. And yes, I know that being hardcore attracted to someone I felt was me with tits and a vagina said a shitload about my psyche I didn’t want to even skim the surface of.

“And that whole on-my-team admission includes letting me decide to do whatever I want or don’t want to do with Colt? Like going to his place tonight or to the hillbilly hoe-down?”

“I’m on your team with everything but for one exception. The Colt exception.”

Josie plated the first piece of pie and handed it to me. I did my thing and plopped a glob of ice cream on it. “Colt and I have dated on and off for a while. You know that, right?”

“More off than on though, right?” I really didn’t want to know anything about Colt and Josie’s history, but apparently my carnal need-to-know did.

“More the other way around,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“Eh, really? You could have your pick of the litter, and you choose the phony, poser runt who thinks cowboy is a noun, not a verb?”

“And you think if I made a different choice, perhaps with a ‘verb’ cowboy like yourself, I’d be so much better off?” She plated another piece of pie and handed it to me.

I inhaled. I exhaled. I repeated. I needed to make sure I really wanted to say it. Should I say it? Would she want me to? Did I want me to? Ah, hell with it. “There’s only one way to find out. There’s only one way to know if you’d be better off with someone like”—I swallowed and stuck my thumb into my chest—“me.”

When she plated the next piece of pie, she slowly faced me. She wasn’t smiling like I’d said something wonderful or glaring like I’d said something stupid. She wasn’t doing much of anything other than studying me. I’d been studied by Josie so much in the past twenty-four hours, I felt close to transparent. I didn’t even know what she was looking for or what she was finding, but I felt about as see-through as that window behind her.

“Let me get this straight, Garth, because the past couple of days have been a bit complicated . . . and twice as confusing.” She tilted her head, staring into depths of me I didn’t know were there. “You want me to call off a long-term, stable, supportive relationship—”

“On-again, mostly off-again relationship,” I added. If she was about to make some big statement, I wanted the facts straight.

She continued, hardly fazed by my interruption. “You want me to basically stop going down this path I’ve been on for a while and try out another trail. One that’s rocky, and steep, and dangerous. One I’ll never know when it will run out and end in a steep drop-off. Which will leave me with nowhere to go besides backward or over the face of that cliff. When and if that jagged, scary trail ends, I’ll be abandoned and unsure if I can even make it back to the path I’d been on before.”

I didn’t blink. I didn’t interrupt, or shake my head, or disagree. Everything she was saying was right on. Everything she was saying about the trail she’d navigate if she gave me a chance was right. Except for one thing. If she was brave enough to take that first step, and I was brave enough to let her, there wouldn’t be an end. I knew the trail we’d walk together would be a hard one, but I wouldn’t ever leave her alone on it. Of course, thinking all of that was one thing. Getting it out in an articulate, heartfelt manner was another.

“You want me to up and change huge parts of my life because we’ve spent a confusing and complicated and wonderful and terrifying twenty-four hours together?”

I only heard one thing in what she’d just said—wonderful—and it made me smile. She seemed to be done and waiting for me to respond. Given the way she continued to examine me, working up a response took a few seconds. “Yes, that’s what I want. But this isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want.”

The kitchen was shrinking, the walls were closing in. Everything was closing in around me in expectation of how I would say it and how she would respond. “You’re the one who has everything to lose. Let’s face it, the only things I have left to lose are my boots and whatever scrap of dignity I have left. You have the world at your fingertips, and I have the weight of it on my shoulders. I know the man I am, and I know that I’m nowhere close to deserving of you . . . But if you feel anything for me like I feel for you, I’m asking you to give us a chance. I’m begging you to give me a chance to prove I won’t make the same mistake and do you wrong one night and abandon you the next morning. I can and will stay at your side for as long as you want me to stay there.”

Josie’s eyes went a little glassy, and I couldn’t tell if that was because she’d been staring at me without blinking for so long or because I was saying something that was getting to her. “I know how this sounds, but I know how I feel. You’re right—it’s terrifying and complicated and wonderful and confusing. If it’s so confusing that I feel like my head’s about to explode, I can imagine it feels the same for you. I’m not asking you to trust me with your life or your heart or your love yet. I am asking you for a chance to prove myself worthy of earning those things. If you can give me that, then let’s take it slow and see where this whole thing goes. Inch by inch, day by day . . . let’s see if we can be something as great as I believe we could be.”

Josie let out the breath she’d been holding. When she stepped toward me, she could have been just as likely about to slap me as she was kiss me. Instead, she grabbed my hand and smiled. “You do realize that ‘taking it slow’ means not jumping into bed on a first date, right? Not even the second, third, or fourth.”

I matched her smile and played along. “I don’t know what your definition of ‘taking it slow’ is, but mine is taking our sweet time in bed . . . after dinner on our first date. And the second, and the third, and the fourth.” She squeezed my hand until I winced. “All right, all right. We’ll do this according to your definition of ‘take it slow.’”

Her face went serious again. “I didn’t think you were capable of taking it slow.”

“Neither did I.”

“And you are now?”

I nodded. “I am now.”

“Why?”

That was the big question. “Because you deserve better than my best. You deserve the man I can and should be. Not the one everyone else knows.”

“And while we’re taking it slow . . . Where are you going? I’m not some girl you just met—I know you. Loyalty and sticking around isn’t what you do when it comes to women.”

Josie wasn’t saying anything I’d never heard before, but because it was her, the words cut through my tough skin. “I’m not going anywhere.” I lifted my hand to the bend of her waist. I curled my fingers into her and held on, hoping she’d never want me to let her go.

Her eyes closed, and her forehead lined. “Whose or how many beds will you make stopovers in while we’re going slow and figuring this out?”

I winced. All the collective pleasure and satisfaction I’d gained from being with dozens of women was not worth the flash of pain I witnessed on Josie’s face right then.

“No one’s. None,” I answered, lifting our entwined hands back to her cheek. I waited until she opened her eyes. “There’s nowhere else I want to be. I’m not going anywhere. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

When her fingers gave mine another squeeze, a gentle one, I had my answer. Biting her lower lip, she nodded once. “Slow and steady. Let’s see if we can be great together.” Then she smiled. Well it was more of a smile-smirk. “Because we’ve already been not-so-great together, right?”

I chuckled softly. “Whatever. You and I must have different definitions of ‘great,’ too.” I was pretty sure I was going to kiss her. I was also pretty sure it wasn’t going to be a short kiss. Then a familiar, and quickly becoming an annoying, clacking grew louder. It was like the woman had built-in radar to know whenever I was about to kiss her daughter.

Mrs. Gibson showed up in the kitchen a moment after Josie and I separated and stood at a distance far enough from one another not to rouse suspicion. A lot about Josie and I would be confusing, but one thing I was not in the slightest confused about? Keeping her parents in the dark for as long as possible. I didn’t want to dodge shotgun spray every time I tried to take her to the movies or wrap my arm around her.

“I didn’t realize you were making a pie. I thought that’s what you spent all afternoon doing.” The closer Mrs. Gibson got to the pie, the more her eyes widened. “What in the world happened to that pie? And the ice cream? I don’t think there’s much ice left . . . just cream.” She looked inside the carton. It had turned into a sloppy mess while Josie and I worked out what we just had.

Had she really just agreed to give me a chance? The moment was finally catching up to me, and it was causing me to feel a little lightheaded.

“Other than ruining pie and ice cream, what have you two been up to in here?”

I guessed teasing Mrs. Gibson about getting after making her grandchild dreams come true probably would have been humor wasted right then. Josie wiped the pie filling off the edge of the knife with her finger and slid her finger into her mouth. Hot damn. That was not helping the dizzy sensation.

“We were just catching up. Sorry.” Josie shrugged.

“You two have known each other since kindergarten. How much ‘catching up’ do you need?”

“A lot.”

“Are you caught up now? Or should I leave and check back later?” Mrs. Gibson could hang with the most sarcastic of us. If I wasn’t sure she’d grow horns and breathe fire if she found out how I felt about her daughter, we probably would have gotten along okay.

“What do you think, Garth? We all caught up now?” Josie’s face had a hint of a smile.

“I think we covered the important parts. The rest we can fill in as we go. We’ve got time. We can just take it slow. Nice . . . and . . . slow.” I wagged my eyebrows at her. Josie responded with her standard reply when I was a pain in the ass—an eye roll.

“Good for you both. Glad you could catch up. We weren’t really looking forward to cherry pie anyways.” Mrs. Gibson cringed when she inspected the massacred pie again. “Please tell me you didn’t do the same thing to the Masons’ pie.”

“Nope. It’s still on top of the fridge. Safe and sound.”

Not when I got a hold of it.

“Good. Why don’t you grab it, carefully, and head over to the Masons’ with Colt? I’ll take care of the mess.” Mrs. Gibson wasn’t looking at the ice cream. Nope, she was looking straight at me.

Josie looked from her mom, to me, to the pie, and repeated. “Okay.” Wiping her hands on a towel, she grabbed the pie off the fridge.

While Mrs. Gibson beamed and hurried into the dining room with a, “I’ll let Colt know,” a serious frown and a case of what-the-hell hit me. “Did I hear wrong, or did you just say you were going over to Colt’s?” I followed Josie around the kitchen as she grabbed a few things.

“No, your ears are working just fine,” she replied calmly.

“Okay, then did I just miss something earlier? Something about us talking about giving us a chance?”

Josie smiled at me, but I couldn’t return it. I was not in a smiling mood. “No, you didn’t miss anything. We talked about giving us a chance, and I don’t know if anything’s changed for you in five minutes, but I’m still planning on giving us a run.”

“Then why are you going to Colt’s?”

The skin between her eyebrows creased. “Did you miss us talking about taking this whole thing slow? Nice . . . and . . . slow?”

I settled my hands on my hips. When she looked about thirty seconds from heading out the front door with Colt Mason wasn’t the time to be making jokes. “No, I didn’t miss that. What does us taking it slow have to do with you leaving with Colt?”

“Plenty.”

I wrapped my hand around her arm as she covered the pie in plastic wrap. “Explain.” As far as relationships went, I had no experience. I’d never had a real girlfriend, but I’d had plenty of girls who were “friends.” Josie was the expert in the relationship department.

Josie glanced at my hand on her arm. “Trust.”

“The one-word answers are giving me nothing. Trust? What does trust have to do with Colt?”

“Nothing, but right now, trust has everything to do with you.” She stuck her finger into my chest.

Shit, of course when the one-word bomb from Josie was Trust, it would have been dropped with me in mind. “Explain.” My new favorite word.

“I’m giving you a chance to prove you have or are willing to learn what it takes to be in a relationship. Paramount in any relationship is trust.” She grabbed the pie and turned for the dining room. “This is your opportunity to show you have trust in me.”

“I thought I was the one proving you could trust me.” I was, after all, the man who’d betrayed enough people in my life to make a person doubt I could ever be trusted again.

“It’s a two-way street.” Josie smiled at me before heading for the dining room.

I dodged in front of her. “I’d prefer this to be a one-way street.”

“I know you would. But this isn’t about what’s best for you. This is about what’s best for us.”

She moved around me. I slid in front of her again. It was impossible to let her go. “No, Joze.”

She could throw a fit, she could slam that pie into my face, she could give me in the silent treatment for a month, but I wouldn’t let her leave in Colt’s truck and head over to Colt’s house where I knew he was already planning to take her to Colt’s bed. She took a breath and looked at me. She was as calm as I was flustered.

“Garth, this whole slow and steady thing is a trial period. I need to know that if you don’t have it, you’re willing to do what it takes to learn how to be in a supportive, loving, trusting relationship that doesn’t center around jealousy and control. I’m here to help you figure it out, but you have to want to figure it out.” Her hand formed around my waist, and she stepped against me. “Think of this as the first hurdle in a series of them.”

“What’s at the finish line?”

“I guess we’ll have to get there to find out.” When she moved around me again, I let her go. God knows I didn’t want to so badly my body almost quivered, but I did it. That was a victory on its own.

Not even two minutes later, I heard Colt’s truck fire to life. If trust felt like that every time I had to prove it to her, I didn’t doubt it would be the death of me.

JOSIE HAD GOTTEN home an hour ago. I felt like a third parent when I checked the clock as that sorry excuse for a truck rumbled up the driveway. After helping Mr. and Mrs. Gibson clean up after dinner—something both of them seemed confused by—I’d taken a shower and crawled into bed. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I was incapable of sleeping with Josie out where she was. I probably should have just run circles around the guest room. That would have been a better distraction from my thoughts than just lying quiet and motionless in bed.

I was close to throwing off the covers and starting my first lap when Colt’s truck pulled up. Speaking of clocks, it was only ninety seconds before Josie came through the front door. A minute and a half wasn’t long enough to get anywhere close to hot and heavy inside of Colt’s truck, so I exhaled my second relieved breath of the night after Josie left. Being the parents they were, Mr. and Mrs. Gibson were still waiting up. After a couple minutes, I heard a series of goodnights as footsteps headed down the hall and one set up the stairs.

I wanted to see Josie. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to hold her like I had last night. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted so much right then. I don’t know if I’d ever “wanted” so much in my life.

Josie’s bedroom door closed long before I finally felt sleepy. All of that adrenaline took a while to wear off, but once it did, I felt more like I was drifting into a coma instead of sleep. That was when my bedroom door whispered open so noiselessly I was surprised I noticed it. When I saw who slipped inside, I wasn’t so surprised I noticed it. Welcome back, adrenaline. It’s been a while. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, and watched Josie approach in a different but similar pair of “pajamas.”

“It’s not a dream,” she whispered, smiling at me. I must have looked confused. “That look on your face? It looks like you’re trying to decide if this is real or a dream.”

“The past twenty-four hours have felt like a dream. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t anymore.” Josie sat on the edge of the bed, and the moment caught up with me. I could almost imagine a shotgun racking. “What are you doing in here?”

“I can’t sleep.” She clasped her hands and shrugged.

“Do you want me to make you a warm cup of milk or something?” I wasn’t sure how Josie went about falling asleep when she had a hard time getting there, but I was certain she didn’t use the same methods I usually did: a woman or a bottle of whiskey. Most nights, both.

“Thanks, but no. I wish a warm cup of milk would work. I’d actually be able to get more than a few hours of sleep every night.” She was trying not to look at me—probably because I was half naked and we were beside each other on the same bed. I lowered the blankets a few inches to make it that much harder for her.

“Are you an insomniac or something?” I grinned when she finally lost the battle and glanced at me. Not at my face either.

“I think I get a whole half an hour more sleep than a true insomniac, but I’m as close to being one as I want to get.”

“Have you always had that problem?” I didn’t like knowing something I couldn’t fix was bothering Josie. If a genie magically appeared and granted me one wish, I’d have insomnia made into human form so I could give it a serious ass-kicking.

“No. I used to sleep so hard I could snooze through a fire alarm.” She shifted so she was facing me more.

“So when did you and sleep decide to become long lost friends?”

She studied her hands in her lap. “A couple of years ago.”

I didn’t need her to clarify the month, day, or hour. Because I knew. I knew what event and person was responsible for Josie’s insomnia. I wanted to kick my own ass? How was that even possible? I didn’t know, but if there was a way, I would figure it out. “Ah, hell, Joze. I’m a piece of shit. I don’t know why you’re even talking to me. I’ve screwed up so many things for you.”

“Well . . . actually . . .” She bit her lip, acting almost shy. Josie did shy about as often as I did humble.

“Well actually what?” I asked eagerly. I’d do anything.

“Last night was the first night in two years I fell asleep and stayed asleep for close to six hours.”

When she looked at me again, I got it. I mean, I didn’t get it exactly, but I knew how to help. I might not have understood why Josie could sleep with me beside her, but I didn’t need to know why to fix the problem. Scooting over, I threw open the blankets and patted the mattress. “Come on over. I warmed a spot up for you already.”

She didn’t need a second invitation. Josie had wiggled and wormed her way under the covers before I realized that, for the second night in a row, I was sharing a bed with Josie Gibson. If the young boy version of me could have expected that, growing up would have been a few shades brighter. “What are your parents going to think? Or do?”

“They’re not going to think or do anything because they’re going to wake up tomorrow none the wiser.”

“You are one devious vixen, Joze.” Once she was curled up, I draped my arm over her and slid up beside her.

“Are you still in your jeans?” Her hand grabbed the waist of my jeans and gave it a tug. “Do you ever take these things off?”

I couldn’t form thoughts, let alone words, with her hand skimming my waist. When her fingers reached the button above my fly, her hand froze before dropping away. I breathed again. Clearing my throat, I worked up something that I hoped would be coherent. “When you grow up never knowing if you’re going to be jerked awake by bottles shattering around you, you keep your pants on and your boots close by. I’ve spent as many nights sleeping under the stars as I have under a roof.” Josie’s hand slipped into mine, her fingers lacing with mine. “How was Colt’s?” A better man might have kept his mouth shut, but I hadn’t gotten where I had by being a better man.

“Uneventful. He didn’t lure me into his bed like I know you were convinced he would.”

I’d already guessed that, but I still exhaled in relief. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try to.”

“No, it doesn’t mean that.”

Imagining Colt trying to get Josie into his bed sent me close to the explosion point. The only thing that kept me from jumping out of bed and driving to Colt’s just so I could throw his mattress out his window was Josie’s touch. It took a minute or two before I was calm enough to form words. “So? Did I pass the trust test?”

“You passed it. With flying colors. I have to admit I didn’t think you could do it. I kept looking out the Masons’ living room window expecting to find your truck barreling up the driveway.”

“I came close. I must have stopped myself from running through that front door a hundred times. But I didn’t, and that’s what counts.” Josie’s feet bumped mine, and I practically jolted from how cold they were. She was worried about me getting frost bite? So I gritted my teeth and pressed the tops of mine—which were toasty warm—into the bottom of hers. If the girl didn’t run around in lingerie in the dead of winter, her feet might not have been mini glaciers with toes.

“You’re kind of great, you know that?” She sighed and wiggled her toes over mine.

“I don’t know if this is greatness or stupidity, but I’ll take any compliment you want to send my way.” So, yeah. My feet had been warm. Not anymore. But hers were at least. “Since I passed the trust test, mind telling me why you went over to Masons’?”

“I left my favorite sweater over there,” Josie said with a shrug. “When Colt finds out about us, I don’t want him throwing it in a bonfire.”

Yeah, that odd sensation was probably my heart growing three sizes. The next sensation wasn’t so odd. It was that flash of fire over what had transpired for her to leave her sweater at Colt’s in the first place. “If he ever did that, he’d be the next thing thrown into that bonfire.”

Josie laughed softly. “Good to know you’re protective of my favorite sweater.”

“You, Joze. I’m protective of you.” I nuzzled her neck and would have tightened my arms around her if I didn’t think it might cut off the circulation to her lower body. “Listen . . . I’ve been thinking”—a new concept for me, I know—“and I don’t want you to up and change anything in your life right now. I’ve ruined so many things for you—I don’t want you to change anything until you’re certain about me. Not until I’ve cleared your hurdles and jumped your hoops and whatever else I need to do to prove I’m capable of making this work.” That was hard as hell to say. Because it was so difficult and it twisted my insides when I’d been in bed thinking about it half the night, I knew it was the right thing to do. I wanted Josie all to myself and the whole world to know that. That was what was best for me. But . . . it wasn’t what was best for her.

“You don’t want me changing anything in my life? Colt included?” There was nothing antagonizing in her voice, but I knew she was gauging me and my level of seriousness.

I felt another flash of fire thinking of Colt and her together. “Let me put it this way—if there was an exception to that, Colt would be it.” It wasn’t the response I wanted to go with, but at least it was an honest one.

“Okay, I’ll take that into consideration. Thank you.” Her hand squeezed mine again.

“So what’s the next hurdle? Since I’m on this whole proving myself path, I’m eager to get to the finish line.”

Josie was quiet for a moment before twisting until we were face to face. “Seeing if you’re capable of taking things slow . . . physically.”

I lifted my brows. “That will be a challenge. I’m afraid my reputation indicates I’m not, but I’m eager to prove myself capable of rising to every challenge.” With Josie’s mouth so close to mine and her chest pressed to mine that way, something was definitely rising. Shit. I didn’t need that with the next hurdle I was expected to jump. I closed my eyes and imagined Mrs. Westmore, the ancient elementary school librarian, naked on a cold day. There . . . problem solved. Mostly. “When do we start?”

Josie’s eyes dropped to my mouth, and she smiled. “What do you think part of the reason I’m here is?”

“Cunning little vixen.” Since I knew the test was already in progress, I had to revisit the whole naked-old-woman-in-the-cold image for a few more seconds to make sure I wasn’t going to blow it. A big part of me wanted to kiss her and touch her and make love to her the way I should have that one time . . . and I didn’t need that to be a part of me. Not when I had to show her I was capable of a relationship that didn’t center around sex. “Good night, Joze. Sleep good.” Kissing the tip of her nose, I closed my eyes and hoped I’d be able to sleep with Josie pressed into me like that. I knew that was a long shot, so I hoped I’d be able to pretend I was asleep.

“Good night, Garth.” Before twisting around, she planted a quick kiss into my cheek.

Life had changed just like that. People were right when they said it could change in the blink of an eye. Josie had been as far off as a person could get, and now she was falling asleep in my arms, promising to give me a chance to love her the way she deserved to be loved. It was all very . . . “I know I’m going to sound like some pathetic douche, but are you sure this isn’t a dream?” If it was, could I expect a dream Josie to answer honestly?

Bringing our entwined hands to her mouth, Josie brushed her lips over my knuckles. I felt that soft touch all the way down into my freezing toes. “This is real.”

Even if it wasn’t, that was okay. I just wouldn’t wake up. When her mouth moved away from my hand, I half sighed, half groaned. “Damn, because a dream would be good right now.”

“Why’s that?” she asked in the midst of a yawn.

“Because then I could do all the things I’m holding myself back from doing to you and not have to feel guilty or reserved about any of it,” I teased. I was only partly teasing.

“I’ll take real over a dream any day.”

I thought about that for one moment. “With you, Joze, they’re the same thing.”


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю