I didn’t actually have lunch plans, but I figured getting out of the house would be a good idea. I was too angry, too hurt to stick around. If Josh tried to talk to me right then, I’d probably say something I’d regret. Or cry. God, I didn’t want to cry in front of him.
Still, it surprised me when I heard Josh’s car start and pull out of the driveway. Surprised and hurt, if I was being honest. Guess I really wasn’t worth pursuing. I watched out my window as he left, a sense of hopelessness swamping me. That was it. Crush over… Josh had put the kibosh on anything more than an employer/employee relationship between us. I’d have to accept that.
I trudged down the hall, figuring I could walk down to Main Street and drown my sorrows in some ice cream from Scoops, the year-round ice cream parlor. I’d give myself a few days to wallow in the sadness, then I’d need to pull my shit together. Max would be home eventually, and it would be time to go back to work. That little guy needed me, and I refused to let him down.
There was a yellow Post-it stuck to the top of the banister. I hadn’t heard Josh come upstairs, though that didn’t mean he hadn’t. Still, if he was going to fire me, a sticky note was about the most classless way to go about it. My anger flaring back up, I stormed to the note, ripping it off the wood post, ready to tear it into pieces, but the simple words written on it quelled every bit of that emotion.
I’m sorry.
That was it. Two words. The simplest apology known to man and yet so effective. I ran my fingers over the solid black lines. Did he mean it? And what was he sorry for exactly? I was about to take the note back to my room for some serious overthinking when another slip of yellow caught my attention. This one was on the bottom banister, stuck to the wood just like the one at the top of the stairs. I hurried down the steps, anxious to see what the second note had to say. I was not disappointed.
I’m an asshole.
“Yeah, you sure are,” I whispered into the empty house. A third note caught my attention, sitting right underneath my keys on the foyer table. This one I walked to slowly, almost afraid of what I’d find. Of what he had to say. The keys jangled as I moved them, the words coming into focus before I’d even plucked the paper from the tabletop.
I wish I were taking you to lunch.
I fought the smile tugging at my lips. The notes were cute, too cute. Almost enough to make me want to drop my guard and wait for him to come home. Almost, but not quite. I grabbed my purse and keys, tucking the notes in my back pocket before heading for the front door. But there was one more surprise for me, one more little square of yellow.
I slept with the shirt you came all over, and now my bed smells like you. I spent all night dreaming about making you come.
I snatched the note off the door, frowning. Words were nice; actions were better. We’d see how things went once the damn panty-melter came home. Meanwhile, I wasn’t going to sit around waiting for him. I had my own plans to make, and they entailed a trip to my favorite store.
* * *
Six hours and one hefty charge to my credit card later, I found myself pacing the length of my room. Alone. Josh had arrived home almost an hour before but hadn’t come upstairs. Not that I’d sought him out, either. But he was the one who’d screwed up; he was the one leaving apologetic notes and dirty thoughts for me to find. He needed to make the first move. I just wished he’d make it already.
I was about to say screw it and storm downstairs to see what in the world he thought he was doing when a soft knock sounded. I stared at my closed door, unsure if I should walk over to open it or not. Whatever happened next would change everything. I knew it, could feel the gravity of the situation pulling at me. Would Josh still be apologetic? Or would he have spent his time deciding I wasn’t worth the risk after all?
There was only one way to find out.
“Come in,” I called, leaning back against my dresser for support.
Josh opened the door, peeking his head around the corner until he saw me. “Hi.”
Oh hell. One word, and my poor panties were already soaked. What was it about this man? How did he have such a hold over me? And why did I like it so damn much?
“Hey.” My voice sounded off, maybe a little breathy. A tad on the way to phone sex operator. Lovely. “Come on in.”
He pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. “Did you find my notes?”
I nodded, clutching the edge of the dresser to keep from throwing myself at him. He dreamt about making me come. “I did.”
His smile faltered, and for a moment, he looked almost unsure of himself. But then his eyes met mine again, and that killer confidence was back. “How was lunch?”
Josh kept his jaw stiff, saying the words through clenched teeth. Looking a little frustrated and a lot jealous. And while the young girl living inside of me liked the idea of a man like Josh Hutton jealous over her, the adult in me knew that was a treacherous road to choose. Time to be an adult once more.
“I didn’t have a lunch date,” I said, pushing off the dresser and stepping closer to him. “I told you that because I was angry and upset, but it wasn’t true. I ran a few errands by myself this afternoon.”
Everything about him seemed to sigh in relief. It was almost like a wave had washed over him, knocking off the hurt and uncertainty and jealousy. This time, he walked over to me, crossing the room in three easy steps, never dropping my gaze for a second. “I’m sorry.”
So sincere. So true. Two words that meant so much to me. He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear before running his finger over my cheek.
“I know. I read the note.” I grabbed his hand and held it against my face. A little softness in exchange for some hard truth. “You’re also an asshole, like you said.”
His hand froze, his eyebrows sliding up his forehead. And then he laughed. “That I am.” Another rub of his fingers along my face, then down my neck to caress my collarbone. I shivered, goose bumps rising across my skin at his simple touch. “I’m still sorry.”
“I forgive you,” I said softly, meaning every word.
Josh stared down at me, some sort of emotion swirling in his eyes. Passion perhaps, maybe pure old lust. Whatever it was, I wanted to be part of it.
“Do you have plans tonight?” he asked.
“No, I never make plans for Saturday nights.” I shrugged, unable not to. “That’s family picnic night in the Hutton household.”
He smiled, dropping his hand to weave his fingers with mine. “Will you come downstairs with me?”
I nodded and followed him, fighting to keep my breathing normal. I had no idea what he had planned, no idea what was coming, but I was in. Totally, completely, one-hundred-percent in.
“You mentioned having a crush on me for years,” Josh said as he led me down the stairs. My face heated, but I couldn’t deny it. Especially not when he glanced back at me with that serious expression on his handsome face. “I want you to know I’ve been paying attention that whole time, too. I tried not to because I didn’t think I should, but everything about you calls to me, Bailey. I hope I got it all right.”
Before I could ask what he meant, we hit the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner into the living room. Normally, it was a simple room—couch, love seat, chair, two side tables, and a large television in a built-in bookcase thing. On family picnic nights, Max usually had a stack of blankets and stuffed animals, I’d have a pillow or two, and Josh would have a pizza with plates and juice boxes set out for all of us.
Tonight was not a normal night.
There were no cartoons on the big screen. Instead, I recognized the opening credits to one of my all-time favorite movies. The one I always watched alone because I’d quote every line and cry at every cheesy emotional scene. On the floor was definitely a blanket, but instead of a pizza box and stuffed animals, the blanket was covered in takeout containers from my favorite sushi spot. There were even a couple of coconut cupcakes off to the side from the bakery I liked to call my own personal heaven. But the best, my favorite part, was the vase filled with hydrangeas on the end table.
“The Bloom Room hasn’t had hydrangeas for weeks.”
Josh chuckled, pulling me into his arms to rest my back against his chest as he pressed a kiss to my temple. “I know. That’s what took me so long. I had to take a trip to the mainland.”
Words were hard to come by as I took in every detail, every bit of time he’d invested. All my favorite things—some I’d never actually told him about. He’d been paying attention, far more than I’d ever thought possible.
“I…how did you do all this?” I turned and looked up at him, almost ready to cry at how sweet this man could be.
“It wasn’t hard—I already knew all your favorites. I just had to get them.” He grew serious, staring down at me in a way that made me want to drop to my knees right there. “Is it right?”
I didn’t even need to look away to answer that one. “It’s perfect.”
* * *
“How’s school going?”
I stretched back against the couch, licking frosting from my fingertips. Josh had been all responsible and eaten his dinner first. I chose coconut cupcakes over sashimi. Just this once. “Really well, actually. One more semester, and I can call myself a college graduate. I might even drive down to DC to walk with the people who went through the program on campus.”
“That’s great, Bailey. I’m happy for you.” He stabbed a piece of his spicy tuna roll with his chopsticks, focusing awfully hard. “What do you plan to do after graduation?”
“I have this business idea I’d like to look into, something I worked on for a project last year that I think would do well in the right spot.” I lolled my head to the side, grinning. “No offense, but I don’t want to work for someone else my whole life.”
His shoulders sagged, his body almost visibly deflating, then he nodded. “That makes sense. Max would be sad to see you go.”
Now that I knew, now that I had an idea of how much he cared, his emotions were clear as day to me. It wasn’t just Max who’d miss me.
“You know, I never said I was leaving,” I said. Still smiling. “My dream would be to be able to stay on the island. I love it here, and I don’t want to try to start new somewhere else.”
I want to stay with you. The words sat on the tip of my tongue, heavy and demanding, but I bit them back. He wasn’t ready for that kind of statement. I didn’t mind being a girl who made the moves, but I didn’t want to get pushy about it. I’d keep making my intentions clear, and when he was ready, he could act on his own.
Josh grinned again, inching closer. “I know Max would be happy if you stuck around. On the island, I mean.”
“Yeah, on the island.” Or in his house. Or in Josh’s bed, though that was still a bit up in the air. At least for the moment. Something that needed correcting, and soon. “Besides, how can I just up and leave when the only man who’s ever actually made me come is right here? That’s not something a girl forgets, you know.”
Josh had just been taking a drink of his beer, which meant he choked a little at my statement. “The only man?” he said once he’d gotten his breath back. “You can’t be serious.”
I moved the empty containers aside and plucked the beer bottle from his hand before twisting to straddle his lap. “I am one hundred percent serious. The only man who has ever made me come is you, Joshua Hutton.”
He tugged me closer, barely giving me time to get the bottle out of the way before he dropped a little bomb of his own on me.
Josh leaned closer, running his nose along the length of my neck. My head fell back, my body arching toward him as he bit softly on my earlobe and whispered, “Would you like me to do it again?”