Finders Keepers (13 page)

“No, thanks, Mom. Garth’s here—he can help.” Josie grabbed
some plates and set them on the island. “With dessert, and heck, maybe even the
grandbaby making. You know, kill two birds with one stone. In five whole
minutes, you might be able to enjoy a piece of homemade pie
and
knowing
you’re going to be a grandma in nine and a half months.”

I shifted from the look Mrs. Gibson gave me. She’d probably
disown a grandchild if I was the baby’s father. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Gibson, I’ll
keep it to the pie.” One more head shake and she was gone. “So? How are we
going to do this thing?” I headed toward the island where Josie had thrown down
what looked to be a cherry pie.

“I’ll cut. You scoop.” She handed me the ice cream scoop and
grabbed a huge knife from the butcher block. I knew Josie would wind up with
some huge-ass knife in her hand before the night was over.

“I was referring to the other way you wanted me to help you
out. This island here looks pretty solid.” I grabbed the ledge of the island
and rocked into it. “Brace yourself.”

Josie glanced at the island then at the area just below my
belt buckle. Her face flushed. “You do realize I’m holding a knife, right? You
might not want to go whipping anything out you want to hang onto.”

I loved that she was blushing. I loved what she was blushing
over. It made me want to throw her up on that counter. Screw the pie. Or . . .
forget
about the pie. “You’re right. I’ve got the scars to prove that seducing a woman
who’s clutching a knife isn’t a good way to go about things. Plus, I did
promise your mom I’d keep it to the pie tonight.”

“And tomorrow night?” Josie cut into the pie. She was trying
so hard not to look at me I almost felt her about to break out in a sweat.

“All bets are off.” I stepped closer to Josie so my arm was
intentionally touching hers. I knew my touch and words were making her uneasy.
I wanted them to. I wanted to see if what she’d said earlier was true. I wanted
to see if her actions proved that she wasn’t sorry for what had happened
between us or if she’d just said it. “Who’s Colt’s number one fan?”

I wasn’t looking to change the subject; that was just where
my mind went next. It was all over the place when I was around Josie. Her
eyebrows came together.

“Just now. You told your mom she was his number two fan.
Who’s his number one fan? You?” I probably would have chucked the ice cream
across the room if she said yes, but I had to know.

“This is Colt Mason we’re talking about,” Josie answered,
smiling at the pie. “I think it’s pretty obvious that he’s his number one fan.”

If I wasn’t sure she wouldn’t slap or knife me, I would have
kissed her hard and long for that. Instead, I did the only kind of cartwheel I
ever would do—the internal kind—and nudged a little closer. “It’s been obvious
to me since I set sight on the guy. Glad to know I’m not the only one.” I pried
open the ice cream lid and put the scooper to work. “Am I to take that as an
indication that you will not be going to his place tonight?”

“Garth.” Josie’s voice was full of warning as she worked on
the pie.

“Josie,” I mimicked. “He’s a douche. You pretty much just
admitted that, so I’m also taking that as an indication that you won’t be going
with him to the hillbilly hoe-down at—”

Josie groaned and wielded that knife in such a way I was
inclined to take a few steps back with my hands lifted. “Not you too. I thought
you were the only one on my team. I thought if one person had my back and
wouldn’t tell me what to do, how to do it, and play the goddamned puppeteer in
my life, it would be you! Jesus Christ, you’re the poster child for being your
own person and to hell with the rest of them. You can’t give me—
ME
—the
same thing?” Josie’s face was red again, but it wasn’t thanks to a flush from
thinking salacious thoughts.

“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.