Читать книгу 8 Brand-New Romance Authors - Avril Tremayne - Страница 19

TEN

Micah had not dressed up for Halloween in years. It was a child’s holiday. Grown-ups passed out the candy. They did not participate. However, in going along with her newly adopted theme of making changes in her life, she succumbed to another one of Sabina’s wonderful ideas and dressed up as a butterfly for a Halloween party at Sabina’s new boy toy’s place.

Her costume was far from what she would have picked out, but Sabina always had a way of making her do or wear something she would regret later. Note to self...stop doing everything Sabina tells you to do and learn to say no. Micah had no idea that butterflies had a skanky species, but here she was clad in a miniskirt and tights, with glittery wings and rainbow eyelashes.

Since the party was being held at Sabina’s boyfriend’s place, she had left without Micah in order to help out with some of the hosting duties. Funny, she never helped with any of those duties when they hosted a party.

Micah exited the apartment building, holding her wings in her hand, and pulled her jacket tighter around her. It had been snowing pretty badly, but she was Massachusetts born and bred. She could handle anything.

Deciding she needed a cup of coffee, she forced her way through the heavy snow toward her favorite coffee drive-through only to find it closed. Hmm... She parked her car and trudged through the snow. It had to be open. Maybe their drive-through was just closed. But as she reached for the door, she came face to face with a large orange-and-black closed sign crushing her hopes.

Great. Just great. What in the world were they closed for? It was Halloween, not Christmas.

She turned back toward the parking lot and just then noticed it was empty. She should have seen that before getting out in this weather. She turned on the car and waited for it to heat up again, flipping on the music and singing along. Putting the gear in reverse, she turned to see behind her, but was surrounded by a blanket of white. She pressed on the gas, but nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. Seriously?

Micah was stuck. She was stuck in the snow. Stuck in an empty parking lot with no one around to help. While dressed like a skanky butterfly. Just great.

She put the car back in park and pulled her phone out. Immediately she went to Josh’s number, but stopped just before hitting the green button. Instead she pulled up Sabina’s number. It rang, but no answer. That girl never answered her phone! She tried Hanna, but when it went straight to voice mail she remembered the big meeting she’d said she had tonight. Jamie was too far away. That just left Josh.

She called, and just like she expected, he answered and was on his way.

Why did he always have to play the role of her hero, her knight in shining armor? She would never learn how to make it on her own if she was constantly depending on him to run to her rescue.

Sure, focus on your newly found need for independence. Ignore the way your whole body is teeming with longing at the thought of seeing Josh.

As images of her dream the other night invaded her mind, she was forced to remove her scarf and undo the buttons of her heavy coat. She was so hot she could turn the car’s heater off and stay warm for days just thinking about that dream.

Trouble up ahead.

Deep, deep trouble.

* * *

She called, he came running. It was as simple as that. It didn’t matter that warnings about the impending snowstorm were blasting on every television and radio station. In fact, it only made him move faster.

What he did not understand was why in the world was she out in this mess in the first place. Hadn’t she listened to the news? Forget that. Hadn’t she noticed the blanket of white that covered everything in sight? Even his big, heavy truck was sliding on the slushy streets. Her car would never survive in this.

In the distance he could barely make out her white Camry, already blending into the snowy backdrop. He plowed through the snow building up in the small coffee shop parking lot and pulled up next to her. She hopped out of her car and quickly jumped into his truck.

Her hood fell back as she settled into the seat, revealing part of a Halloween costume. Crazy-colored false eyelashes fluttered erratically as she buckled her seat belt. He shook his head.

“You were going to a Halloween party in this? Are you kidding me? Are you insane?”

“There’s no need to be rude. I understand now how foolish an idea it was.”

“You think?” He carefully steered back onto the road, trying to catch a few peeks at her costume without losing control of the truck. “What are you supposed to be? Tinker Bell?”

“No. I’m a butterfly.”

“A butterfly? This just keeps getting better. What happened?”

“I was headed to the party and stopped for a coffee. I thought the road conditions were doable.”

“Well, Tink, your car should be fine here overnight. Hopefully we can get it out tomorrow. We might have to dig it out, though.”

“Butterfly, you moron!”

He kept his eyes on the road, fully aware that the conditions had drastically worsened since he had first left his apartment. It was almost impossible to see the lanes, and even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to stay in them. His truck felt like a puck on an air-hockey table, gliding back and forth. “Listen. These streets are getting really bad. I can take you back to your place, but then I’d be stuck there until it clears up. Or I can bring you back to my place, where you would be stuck.”

“My place is closer.”

The ride to her apartment was silent and awkward, at least on his side of the truck. This didn’t happen often for him. He liked to be in control of the conversation. If people weren’t comfortable and laughing around him, it just felt weird. He always felt responsible for breaking the ice and easing the awkwardness, but this time he was the awkward one. No amount of jokes or casual banter could dispel the tension making itself at home in his truck.

Pulling up to the Victorian where she lived, he finally let out the breath he had been holding. They’d arrived in one piece, but barely. There was no way he would make it home in this. He shook his head, thinking about how dumb it was that Micah had actually thought she could make it to a party tonight. She ran inside while he made sure his truck was all sealed up. There was nothing worse than realizing you had left a window or a door cracked in a snowstorm. His truck was his baby. He was not letting anything happen to her.

After lifting the wiper blades off the windshield, he headed into Micah’s building. It was going to be a long night. Thank God Sabina would be around. For once he was grateful for their combative relationship. It would take his mind off of things.

He climbed the stairs to her apartment. Her front door was ajar, her snow-covered shoes appearing to have been shed midstep, blocking the doorway. He kicked them aside and placed his next to them, careful not to step in the quickly growing puddle of melted snow.

It was quiet—too quiet. “Where’s Sabina?”

“She’s at the party already.”

Of course she is.

“You should have seen her costume. She is going to be miserable in it all night.”

“Oh, I can only imagine what she would have worn.”

She yanked off her jacket and threw it on the chair by the door. Something caught his eye. Her shoulders were bare, revealing portions of her back. If he was not mistaken, he could have sworn he saw a tattoo on her shoulder. Had she gone without him? Work had caused him to cancel on her, but he’d just thought she would postpone and wait for him.

As she walked from the living room to the kitchen and then disappeared into her bedroom, he strained to make out what the tiny new piece of ink was. It was a heart, but it wasn’t the one she’d said she was going to get. No, this heart was different. Why had she changed her mind?

She had left him alone in the apartment. This was awkward. It never had been before, but it definitely was now. After twelve years of friendship, things suddenly felt alien between them. He didn’t know what to say or what to do. He definitely didn’t feel comfortable touching her anymore. The easiness that had once been a natural part of their relationship now ceased to exist. “I’m going to use your bathroom.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

When he returned, she still had not come out of her room. “Mind if I make myself some coffee?”

“You know where everything is?” she yelled back through the door.

“Yup.” Not that it was difficult. She had one of those cheat machines: insert prepackaged coffee cup into machine and hit the button. Ready in under a minute. No one could ruin that. “You want a cup?”

“Yeah. I never made it into the coffee shop. They were closed.”

“Even the coffee shop had the good sense to stay home tonight,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I heard that,” she said, surprising him from behind.

“Which kind do you want?”

“Hazelnut, please.” She had changed into sweatpants, her typical Micah wear. Her makeup had been washed off, contacts removed and the familiar black-framed glasses were back in place. He could handle this; butterfly wings and leather leggings, not so much.

“Did you have dinner yet?”

“No.” His stomach took that moment to grumble, as if in response to her question. She heard and laughed. “Guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

“I’ll throw something together then. Let’s see what I’ve got here...hmm. Sabina has provided us with so many healthy options. Yuck. Stir-fry doesn’t sound too bad. What do you think?”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Here, slice these up.” She handed him zucchini, carrot and onion. “Cutting board’s under there.”

He stared at the vegetables in front of him, trying to figure out how to go about this task.

“So how’s Taylor?”

“Who?” Josh looked down at the onion. “You know I hate cutting onions. I hate them, period.”

“Oh, get over it. Stop being such a baby.” She spun to get something else out of the fridge. “And what do you mean, who? Taylor. Your girlfriend. Is that not her name?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He had forgotten about her. How could he not when he was in Micah’s presence?

“Did you forget you had a girlfriend?”

“No. She’s not my girlfriend. We just went out once or twice. I haven’t even really seen her since Hanna’s party.”

“Oh.”

Why did he just tell her that? He could have used Taylor as a buffer without Micah being any wiser.

He could not help but try to gauge her response, watching for any sign or hint as to how Taylor’s presence in his life affected her. She gave up nothing. This was ridiculous. They had been friends forever. He could not think of a person he trusted more. And what he was thinking about, what plagued him day and night, could easily ruin it all. It was not worth it.

“You want beef or chicken?”

She stood by the open refrigerator waiting for his response. But he could not think around her anymore.

“Josh? Are you all right? You seem off tonight.”

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “Sorry. Beef.” This was going to be a long, long night.

“I didn’t really get a chance to talk to her the other night. What’s she like? Tell me about her...”

“She’s great. She, uh...likes Neil Diamond and stuff.”

“Mmm...she sounds very interesting. Where did you guys meet?”

“The firehouse.”

“She works with you?”

“No.” What was with the twenty questions? He didn’t want to answer questions about Taylor. Mainly because he did not know the answers. And talking to Micah about other girls was just strange.

“No?”

She would not stop until he answered her questions and her curiosity was satisfied.

“We put out a fire at her parents’ house two weeks ago.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah, you know, we’ve had fun together so far.”

“What? Singing ‘Sweet Caroline’?”

“No, we talk and hang out.”

“Already this is sounding better than Miss Just-Changing-the-Lightbulb.”

“Actually, she turned out to be Mrs. Just-Changing-the-Lightbulb.”

“She was married? And needed help changing a lightbulb?” She tossed him a judgmental glance over her shoulder, shaking her head. “You sure know how to pick them. But let me guess, this one is different, right?”

“Well, so far this girl knows how to change a lightbulb and knows how to get herself home in a snowstorm.”

“Ouch!” He loved the way her face lit up when she laughed. “Good one.”

“I try.”

He chopped and diced the vegetables as instructed while she started cooking. When he was finished with his given tasks, he leaned against the counter and held his coffee in one hand. Micah turned and gave him a quick once-over, laughter filling her eyes.

“What?”

“Your zipper is down.”

He looked down and sure enough, it was. He looked back up at her as she giggled. “It’s been down this whole time and you’re just now telling me? My eyes are up here, Micah. Let’s try and keep yours above my waist level.”

“Ha! Whatever! I was not checking you out.” Micah swatted at him with her spatula, but he was quick enough to duck out of its path. She countered with her other hand and there was no hope of escaping that one.

“You totally were, and you know it.” This was easier. More like how it used to be between them. He zipped up his pants and went back to his coffee.

They cooked in comfortable silence—at least, that was what it was supposed to be. Josh remained on edge, though. Each time she came close or accidentally brushed up against him, he tensed. He prayed she would not notice. He kept throwing out his typical jokes to keep her off his trail. If she caught on or noticed, she showed no sign or it.

* * *

“How is it coming?” She stretched to look over his shoulder to see his progress with the dinner. He had a lot of practice cooking for the guys at the firehouse and was pretty good at it. She was impressed. He might even be better than she was with all the slicing and dicing.

“I’m almost finished with all the veggies. The meat looks like it’s just about ready for the rest of the stuff.”

“You are right. It does look like it’s ready.” Micah armed herself with a spatula and got back to work.

Josh was acting a little weird. He was trying to cover it up, trying to act like normal, but she knew him better than that. Could he tell? Was she that easy to read?

She did want to be independent from him, to be able to function without needing him in every area of her life, but she didn’t want to lose his friendship altogether.

As she worried about the state of their relationship, she mindlessly stirred the ingredients in the hot pan on the stove top. “Can you pass me that jar of minced garlic?”

“Sure.”

He handed it to her and she scooped out some to add to the pan. With the open jar of garlic in one hand and the lid in the other, she quickly turned to return it to the fridge, attempting to close it midturn. When she whipped around in the small kitchen, she collided with Josh as he also tried to get to the fridge. The minced garlic in olive oil went all over his shirt as the jar dropped to the ground, shattering and covering the floor.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” She shook her hand, trying to rid herself of the garlic clinging to her hand. It only made things worse, sending it flying in the air. “I am so sorry!”

They both lost it, laughing until they cried. It reeked around them, the smell of garlic filling the air. They began to pick up the large pieces of glass and made quick work of cleaning up the stinky mess. She washed her hands, knowing full well they would smell for days. Looking up at Josh for the first time since the incident, she was reminded of the mess she had made of his shirt.

“I’ve ruined your shirt!”

“It will be fine, I—”

“No. It’s not fine. You’ll never get the oil out. And the smell... Girls will stop talking to you altogether.”

“Maybe I want the girls to stop, anyway.”

“Yeah, right. I think I have one of your old Red Sox T-shirts...”

His eyebrow formed a perfect questioning arch.

“I stole it from you years ago. Get over it.”

She went in search of the T-shirt, digging through her drawers. Hopefully it wasn’t dirty. She liked sleeping in it. Thankfully, she found it clean and folded in a drawer.

She turned to head back to the kitchen only to find he had followed her into her room. He stood there just inside her doorway, ruined T-shirt in hand, chest bare.

Wow, did he fill up the place! She could not control her eyes from feasting on the expanse of tattooed skin.

She had been there when he had two of the tattoos done, but she did not remember reacting like this. Her fingers itched to trace the ink, especially the intricate design that covered the whole left side of his torso. And what a torso it was. She remembered the pain he had endured during that tattoo session, his grip tightening during moments of intense pain as she held his hand the entire time.

“Can I have the shirt or not?”

Oh, my gosh! She was still holding the T-shirt in her hand while staring at him like a desperate and starved woman. Quickly, she dropped her eyes to the floor, very much interested in the wood floors and their need of a good sweep.

She still hadn’t relinquished the shirt. This was getting embarrassing. She tossed it at him, but he still blocked the doorway. She was stuck, forced to watch him clothe himself.

What a shame to have to cover it all up, but if she wanted to keep her sanity it needed to happen.

Boy, was it hot in here! What was the thermostat on, anyway? His eyes connected with hers once more before he turned to leave the room.

“Thanks. You know what this means, though.”

“What?” She felt anxious, wondering what in the world would come from his mouth next. Had he noticed the way she had looked at him? What was he thinking? Her heart raced as she waited for his response.

“I’m taking my shirt back.”

She exhaled deeply. Giving up the shirt was easy enough; an awkward conversation about her gawking at him...not so much.