Talking about slaves and wants and whims with Josie that close to me made me feel like my heart was about to burst through my ribcage. It also made me feel like something was going to burst out of my zipper. “Sorry, no can do. It’s way too early in the night to start talking about my wants and whims. Plus, your innocent ears would never be the same.”
“I’ve known you since we were five. I think my ears stopped being innocent by the time I was five and a half.” She gave me a wry smile and crossed her arms.
“Oh, well in that case . . .” I waited until I was sure I’d created enough dramatic pause that Josie was close to snapping in anticipation. “Sorry, Joze. No best line ever tonight. You couldn’t handle it.”
“I think I can handle one little line from you. I’ve handled a lot more from you.”
“Fine. I couldn’t handle it. Now, can we change the subject?”
“What would you like to change the subject to?” She stepped toward me. I would have stepped back if I wasn’t already backed into a corner. Literally and figuratively.
“How about me admitting I was an ass this morning and apologizing? I’m sorry for how far things went.” For me, making apologies ranked up there with having a bull come down on my foot. But with Josie, it was ten times easier. Possibly a hundred times. It wasn’t even painful.
“Are you really? Sorry for how far things went? Because I recall things going way farther between us before and never receiving an apology for that.”
Ouch. Josie was bringing it. I’d come in prepared to trade spars with Colt Mason—I was ready for his brand of shit. I had not come prepared to talk about that with Josie. “You’re right. I never apologized to you for that, but it was for a good reason.”
“And what would that good reason be?”
She was waiting for an answer, but all I could think about that night and the dress she had on right then and how I couldn’t apologize because . . . “Because I wasn’t sorry it happened.”
Yeah, I hadn’t exactly planned on that coming out. After it did, I saw exactly why I’d wanted to keep it to myself. Josie sucked in a tiny breath of surprise before her whole face smoothed out. Those eyes wouldn’t stop staring into mine like she could see everything I wanted and needed to keep to myself. Then she grabbed my hand and lifted it to her cheek. I was a man who, right then, was a slave to her every whim and wish.
“I’m not sorry it happened either.”
I wasn’t sure what was more confusing—that Josie was touching me when the boy she’d been dating for months was a few rooms away or that she’d just said that. She wasn’t sorry for what had happened between us? That was hard to believe. Impossible to believe. But she’d said it. At least a dozen questions were on the tip of my tongue. One was just about to come out when a pair of familiar-sounding heels clacked our way.
“Josie? Was that Garth who pulled up in the driveway?”
I pulled my hand away from Josie’s cheek, and she took a few steps backward, smoothing her dress and expression. “Yeah, he’s here.”
“Then what in the world is taking you so long? You have company waiting for you.”
Josie’s glanced over at me. “We were just saying hey.”
My brows came together. I didn’t realize what we’d said and done qualified as a hey, but at least the girl was getting better at the whole parental evasion thing.
“Well can’t you say hey in the kitchen? I think Colt’s starting to wonder if you’ve run off to Vegas.” The instant Mrs. Gibson’s eyes fell on me, her mouth turned down and she exhaled. “Hello, Garth. It’s good to see you again. It’s been a while.” Mrs. Gibson had the robot voice down pat.
I tipped my hat and shoved off the wall. “I’m sorry that ‘a while’ couldn’t have been a bit longer, but your daughter’s convinced I can’t survive a night on my own, let alone the whole winter.” Josie received a sideways look from her mom. “Thank you for offering to let me stay a few nights. I really appreciate it.” Just because I’d heard exactly how Mrs. Gibson felt about me earlier didn’t mean I couldn’t muster up some old-fashioned respect and mind my Ps and Qs.
“A few days? Garth, you can stay as long as you want. It’s going to take you more than a few days to find a place of your own,” Josie said, crossing her arms.
“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know. I’m sure if Garth puts his mind to it, he can do anything. Isn’t that right, Garth?”
If only Mrs. Gibson knew the things I’d put my mind to . . . “That’s right. You never know, Joze, I might go and surprise the hell out of you.” Mrs. Gibson cleared of her throat loudly. Oh, yeah. It had been a while since I’d been in the Gibsons’ home. “Sorry, ma’am. I meant . . . I might go and surprise the heaven out of you.”
Josie pursed her lips to keep from laughing while Mrs. Gibson looked more to be holding back from strangling me. Josie said, “Why don’t we head into the kitchen before I tell you to get out and go to heaven?” We laughed, turning Mrs. Gibson a special shade of red. She practically marched back into the dining room.
Walking beside Josie toward the dining room, I nudged her. “Go to heaven? Really, Joze? That was pathetic. That was like kindergarten quality comedy right there.”
“It got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?” She nudged me back—with her elbow into my ribs. That “nudge” was a Josie favorite.
“A pity laugh, Gibson.”
“Nice try. You were in stitches back there. Rolling from your laughter.”
“I’ll show you rolling in laughter.” I pinched her side, and when she tried to slide away, I slid with her and kept pinching until she was an inch from rolling.
Mrs. Gibson did her best to ignore us, but when we made it into the dining room, the others definitely weren’t ignoring us. I dropped my hand, but I stayed where I was. Right beside her. That pissed Colt Mason off more than any other opening jab I could have thrown at him. Mr. Gibson and Colt stood up from the table, their eyes narrowing on me. So one person wanted me there. The rest, not so much.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Gibson.”
He shook his head. “Since you’re going to be staying with us for a while, why don’t you cut the bullshit now, Garth? I know you’re about as excited to see me as I am to see you.” I tipped my head in agreement. “Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s enjoy dinner.”
“Daddy, no. We do not have that out of the way.” It was good to know Josie didn’t use that tone only on me. “You promised you would be fair and not act like a caveman. You promised to give Garth a chance, and you saying your hellos that way is not giving him a chance.” Josie grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the table. I went along because . . . well, where else would I go when Josie was pulling me forward? “You are going to shake his hand and try it again.”
Mr. Gibson shifted, not making eye contact with Josie. It was also good to know I wasn’t the only male she could make uncomfortable and ashamed at the same time. Once we were a few feet in front of Mr. Gibson, Josie stopped and moved aside like she was playing referee. She pretty much was.
“Well?” She gave me a look and then her dad. When that pointed expression made its way back to me, I sighed and extended my hand.
“It’s good to see you, Mr. Gibson.” I glanced at Josie, making sure she was taking note. She was definitely taking note, and the way she was looking at me reminded me of what she’d said in the hall about not being sorry about that night, and that got me thinking about . . .
Fuck. All the way to infinity and back. I was about to shake hands with her dad with a hard-on. Not a proud moment.
Mr. Gibson extended his hand with a sigh and shook mine with another sigh. “Good to see you, too, Garth.” He gave Josie a look before his eyes zeroed back in on me. I don’t know if he knew the thoughts I was having about his daughter and the way my body was responding to those thoughts or if he just downright hated my guts, but that was one look I would take to the grave. “Keep your hands off my daughter. I have no problems going back to prison.”