Having It All

by Christi Barth

  Annabeth shoved her hands into the back pockets of her pants. Huh. Was she trying hard to keep from touching him, too? “You’ve led the podcast before, Josh. You can’t be nervous about it.”

  Like hell. Josh knew his strengths. And he definitely knew his weaknesses. Which was anything involving writing and/or reading. “When I just show up and run my mouth, it’s easy. When I’m in charge, I have to come up with an outline, discussion points. For this one, a list of questions for our guests, too.”

  “Josh, you’re a natural at speaking in public. I still don’t get it.”

  Well, this would definitely wrap up with a fucking red ribbon that he wasn’t flirting with Annabeth. Last he’d checked, sharing your learning disability wasn’t even in the top twenty ways to woo women into bed. “I have dyslexia.”

  Her eyes didn’t so much as flicker. “So?”

  That was…different. The few times Josh had opened up about it, the reaction was usually over-the-top sympathy. Embarrassing AF. He paced down to the next rack of tops in deep-autumn reds and oranges. “So, it’s hard. I suck at it, to tell the truth.”

  “Nope. I don’t buy it.” Annabeth not only followed, but she came around the rack to go toe-to-toe with him. “You might suck at writing everything out, at making a snazzy PowerPoint out of it all. But coming up with the actual outline and questions? I’ll bet you can do that with your eyes closed.”

  “Trust me, my spelling will look like I had my eyes closed.” He jerked a shoulder, a little annoyed that she’d called him out. And a little annoyed that she’d had to. “You’re right. I have a bunch of ideas. I just don’t want to make a mess of it. This one’s important.”

  Annabeth fiddled with a top, pulling the sleeve out and smoothing the display. “Why?”

  Telling her would be good practice for how to intro the topic on the podcast. See? Nothing the least bit romantic going on here. Not like Josh was noticing how the super-wide neck of her dark brown sweater kept slipping off her shoulder. Slipping off far enough to prove there wasn’t a bra strap under there. No, he hadn’t noticed that at all.

  Just to be safe, Josh backpedaled it away from Annabeth to the front window area facing M Street. He sat on a tiny chair covered in a fabric that looked like clouds in a summer sky. Planted his palms on his knees.

  “I train kids from halfway houses and foster care on my food truck. So no matter what their school situation is, they get a solid career option under their belts. Not just cooking. They get experience with money, with handling customers, dealing with failure and still moving on and adjusting. Stuff they can use in jobs that aren’t behind a grill, too.”

  “I had no idea,” she murmured, so softly he barely heard it over the Irish music coming from the speakers.

  Nobody knowing was exactly how he liked it. “I don’t publicize what I do. I don’t need a write-up in the Washingtonian.” Josh made air quotes with his fingers. “‘The Sexy Do-Gooder Chef.’ Yeah, that’s not my jam.”

  “You think the magazine would put sexy in that headline?” Annabeth’s tone—and the raised eyebrow—made her disbelief clear. And insulting.

  This wasn’t flirting. It was fact. Especially since Knox and Griff had already gotten plenty of page space that didn’t skimp on the “hot bachelor” angle. Josh turned his head to the side. Jutted out his chin. “Of course. If they profiled me, they’d feel obliged to point out that I have, well, one hell of a profile.”

  She sort of sauntered closer. Those high boots put a swing in her step Josh couldn’t resist noticing. “So once people aren’t blinded by your godlike looks, what’s the plan for the podcast?”

  “Kordell—the kid I’m training now—said he has friends who are jealous of his gig. Wish there were other opportunities like this around the city. That’s when I knew I couldn’t keep what I do on the down-low anymore. The guys and I are going to get naked this week about helping kids pull themselves out of bad situations.”

  This time, both of her eyebrows shot up. “Your podcast reaches millions. That’s one heck of an audience to receive that message.”

  “If it kick-starts even a handful, it’ll be worth it. People get stuck thinking too big. You don't have to adopt to help. Take a chance on hiring someone with grit and determination even if they don’t have the grades. Take a chance on mentoring. Kids in halfway houses don’t have reliable role models. Being one can make all the difference. Or hell, just be a friend.”

  Annabeth sat on the raised platform of the window display. After a long couple of seconds, she curled her hands around each other and held them at her heart. “I’m touched by what you’re doing. And what you’re going to do for so many by talking about it.”

  “Talking’s the easy part,” he grumbled.

  “I’ll help,” she offered. “If you’re not busy right now.” She hurried over to the checkout counter. Bent way over it to reach underneath—while Josh absolutely did not notice those jeans hugging her tight ass—and grabbed an iPad. “You talk, and I’ll type everything up.”

  It was a generous offer. Josh looked out at the bright streetlights barely holding the fog from the Potomac and the dark November night at bay. “You’ve got to be tired after working all day. Why would you want to stick around and do this?”

  “Because you need the help. Because I would’ve loved for someone to reach out to me the way you’re describing, when life was a…struggle.”

  “What kind of a struggle?” He knew her brother left to serve overseas years ago, but that was about it.

  Wasn’t that a punch to the gut? After being casual friends with this woman for years, and her now being folded into their brotherhood by working with Summer, Josh realized he should know. Know much more about Annabeth. His curiosity blazed hotter than D.C. asphalt in July.

  “Oh, you know.” Long lashes ghosted across her cheeks as her gaze nailed itself to the floorboards. “On food stamps. No dad in the picture. Mom was in and out.”

  “Of your lives?”

  After a hollow laugh, Annabeth said, “That, sure. And prison a few times. When she did have a paycheck, she’d snort most of it. Jamie joined the Army the minute he was old enough. He’d put his pay in an account that only I could access to keep me and Percy under the same roof. I started waitressing in high school because it was the best way to make money with my clothes on.”

  Everything came out so matter-of-fact. Which was odd, because shock at her revelations knocked the wind out of Josh. “Christ, Annabeth. That’s god-awful. Shouldn’t Child Protective Services have stepped in?”

  “To do what?” Eyes flashing, her head flew up. “Stick us with a foster family that just wants the money and has a handsy creep for a dad or a brother? Or worse, split us up?”

  As he stood, he carefully said, “That’s awfully specific.”

  “The first time Mom went to prison, our schools found out. It was…bad. We swore we’d never let it happen again. So yeah, I took care of myself. I survived. But it would’ve been nice to have a little more help. Summer took a chance on me with this job. It’s the chance of a lifetime. If I could’ve gotten a break before I turned twenty-five? That would’ve been good.”

  “What’s Percy’s situation now?”

  “He joined the Navy. Stationed just down the road in Norfolk. He’s good. Safer than Jamie.” Annabeth picked up a sweater puddled on the display ledge and knotted it carefully over the shoulders of the mannequin. “Look, I care, okay? I can’t afford to give money, and I don’t have consistent time to volunteer.” She put her hand on his forearm. Looked up at him with wide eyes that were surprisingly unguarded. “Let me help you tonight. Let me be a part of what you’re trying to do, in some small way.”

  Usually, Annabeth was brash and fearless and pretty much wore ten layers of emotional armor. He’d always gotten a kick out of it. Now? Josh was blown away by what she’d kept locked down. Putting his hand over hers, he asked, “Why do you hide this side of you?”

  Her nails bit into h
is skin briefly. “I don’t.” Then she tossed back her hair and yanked her hand away as if his touch burned. Headed back to the counter and splayed her hands wide across it. “You just have to make the effort to look past the surface, Josh.”

  It took only two long steps to position himself behind her. Close enough the wide collar of her sweater brushed his shirt. Close enough that his thighs bracketed hers with only a laser-thin gap between them. So close that Josh heard her breath catch as he bent to put his mouth right at her ear.

  “Last time I looked—really looked—at you, Annabeth, things got out of control. Dangerous, even.” He almost went further. Almost brought up the kiss they’d never discussed in three long, blue-balled weeks. This was the closest they’d come to acknowledging it. Because his proximity wasn’t friendly at all.

  And she wasn’t skittering away. Elbowing him in the gut. No, Annabeth was breathing in sync with him. Probably thinking about the kiss, just like he was. They stood there, breathing together, on the brink of touching. On the brink of…Josh didn’t know what.

  He did know that in another second, he’d touch her. Kiss her. Wrap her in his arms and feast on her like before.

  So Josh stepped back. Especially with her hard-scrabble story fresh in his brain? Yeah, he couldn’t do anything to fuck up their friendship.

  He sure as shit didn’t do relationships. So when things invariably went bad/weird between them, Summer would notice. Thanks to her love for Riley and all his friends, she’d fix it by getting rid of Annabeth.

  No way would Josh be responsible for that. No way would he risk endangering this shot she’d had to wait way too long to get. It didn’t matter that he was all churned up with wanting her. Wanting to comfort her for things that had happened a decade before.

  What was that about?

  Gently, with one finger, he pushed her sweater back up to cover her shoulder. “How about you look at the menu for Hunan Palace? I’ll call for delivery. Least I can do to pay you back for this is feed you while we work.”

  “Sounds good.”

  But when Josh had walked all the way around the counter to pick up the store’s phone, she still hadn’t budged a muscle from where he’d caged her in with his body.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I think we need a few more choices loaded onto the website for New Year’s Eve looks.” Annabeth scrolled through the images, shaking her head. “It has a different vibe than work holiday parties. Sexier. More fun.”

  “Agreed.” Summer fiddled with the silver pin holding her oversized blue and red plaid scarf together at her collarbone. The scarf was far bigger than the bright blue micro-mini she wore. Only her fashionista boss would come to a Wednesday dinner dressed to walk a runway.

  Annabeth tucked her hair behind her ear. If she was at home, she’d just cinch it into a messy ponytail. But tonight they were a part of the big group dinner at the refurbished rectory that Josh shared with all the other Naked Men. She’d spent too many minutes wrestling with the straight iron to knot it up.

  That effort hadn’t been for Josh. No, hanging with the guys meant hanging with their girlfriends and fiancées. Her newish circle of very, very good friends. Everybody knew women dressed up for each other more so than for men.

  It definitely wasn’t because she wanted Josh to be able to stroke his fingers easily through her hair. Correction. She very much wanted Josh to do just that. But Annabeth also very much wanted to eat the entire pint of sea salt caramel gelato in her freezer in one sitting.

  Both things would be bad, verging on self-destructive, for her.

  “I should add the photos tonight. Write up the descriptions with a slant towards being a little buzzed and getting a little lucky, thanks to our fabulous clothes.” Swiveling and flipping her wrist over to point at Summer, she asked, “You’ve already priced everything in the file, right?”

  “It’s Thanksgiving Eve, Annabeth. You should do nothing but drink your wine and eat the mountain of food Josh is preparing for all of us.”

  “You said if I came over early, we could finish working. Before tackling the mountain of deliciousness,” she added with a glance over her shoulder at Josh brandishing tongs through a cloud of steam at the enormous, six-burner stove.

  “Work’s done.” Summer simultaneously pushed the iPad out of reach and Annabeth’s wineglass closer. “You’re off the clock as my employee. Clock in as my friend instead.”

  Riley, her NTSB agent boyfriend, dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “This one’s pushy. It’ll save us all grief if you just give in now and do what she says.”

  “I’m merely following the agenda for tonight,” Summer said. “Work at six, snack at seven, eat at eight.” She reached up to lazily tousle his dark hair. “Nothing makes you happier than following an orderly progression.”

  “You get me all hot when you talk about lists and order,” Riley growled. He kissed her, pulling her out of the chair as if Summer was as light as the parsley piled on the cutting board. Once vertical, he dipped her backward over his knee and gave her the kind of kiss so romantic that it usually faded straight to movie credits.

  This was nice. Giggling while her friends got a little lost in their love. Hearing the muffled curses and shouts coming up the stairs from the darts game—for first pick of pie slices, not money—that Knox and his fiancée, Madison, were playing against Logan and his girlfriend, Brooke.

  Annabeth was so…comfortable with everyone. Albeit not paired up like the rest of them.

  That was painfully clear on a night like this.

  She’d helped set the antique cherry dining room table. Saw the calligraphed place cards. Not because the multimillionaire men of the house were that fancy.

  No, it was because Chloe was a professional letter writer who’d jumped at the chance to pen something for the holidays. Each place card held two lines from a poem about thankfulness to be read aloud. Which was absolutely sweet and heartfelt and nothing Annabeth would ever have dreamed she’d be lucky enough to be a part of.

  Knox, Griffin, Riley, and Logan all had spots across from their women. To make things less awkward, Summer had placed Annabeth and Josh at the opposite ends of the table. Except that didn’t lessen the awkwardness one bit. It just meant that every time Annabeth glanced up during dinner, he’d be right in her line of sight. Thick blond hair, arrow-sharp cheekbones, full lips that somehow made every smile he gave look sexily enticing…

  Huh-uh. Nope. Taking a long pull from her wineglass, Annabeth thought back to what Riley and Summer’s antics had originally put in her head. About how nice it was to finally be on the inside of a group of people she’d orbited for so long.

  Which was why the kiss, and even thinking about Josh’s lips, was so wrong. This was her shot. These people, the job at Forever Summer—Annabeth couldn’t afford so much as a single slip that might screw it all up.

  Even though there was no doubt Josh would try to convince her that he’d be worth the risk. That she could have it all.

  Except that life had drummed into Annabeth the cold, hard fact that she could not, in fact, have it all. People with her background, who started where she did, were lucky to claw their way up to make a little breathing room. Aiming for anything higher would just give her false hope.

  Something else she’d outgrown along with her training bra.

  “What are you doing?” Summer whispered in her ear.

  Surprised, Annabeth jolted. Tried to not bobble her wineglass, but then realized it was empty. Damn it. She’d drained the whole thing, sipping and staring at Josh. And Summer had caught her mid-ogle.

  “Nothing.” She got up and walked to the jagged row of black metal slats that formed the hanging wine rack for the everyday wine. Apparently, Knox kept the serious stuff down in his honest-to-God wine cave. Which Annabeth had been jonesing to peek at since he’d first mentioned it years ago. “I mean, I’m drinking all the wine, just like you told me to.”

  “I told you to stop acting weird around Josh.”<
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  Annabeth grabbed another bottle of red. Opening it would give her an excuse to look at neither Summer nor Josh. Maybe she’d just open a few more bottles. Like…twenty or so… “You’re the one on me like a parasite and whispering in my ear. Which one of us do you think seems weirder right now?”

  “Did you talk to him? Clear the air?”

  “We talked.” It had done nothing but thicken the air around them with interest and desire, until Annabeth had barely been able to breathe with wanting to kiss him again. “We’re fine.” She’d even back that up with the whole actions speaking louder than words thing. Whatever calmed Summer’s suspicions.

  So she carried the bottle the length of the kitchen to Josh. “Ready for a glass? I’m pouring a Spanish Tempranillo that should go well with all the heady smells you’re generating.”

  “What? This old pile of beef I marinated overnight and have been cooking for the last three hours? Beef so tender, might I add, that you don’t even need a fork. You just blink and it shreds itself.” He spooned up some sauce and offered it to her.

  Hot chef literally spoon-feeding her? Uh, yes, please!

  Annabeth had eaten at Josh’s food truck a bunch of times. Its theme was endless variations on grilled cheese. So while always delicious, that food had nothing on the level of the simmering pot of barbacoa in front of her. Which she’d gauged by merely smelling it.

  Tasting it?

  Well, if she hadn’t already had the hots for this man, she would now. Every woman who tasted this would go weak in the knees for Josh. “This is incredible.”

  “I’m having fun with it. It’s great to stretch my wings and do something complicated. I always love cooking for the guys. And now for all the lovely female additions to our group. Especially those who have a knack for perfectly pairing a wine to make my food shine.”

  Annabeth took the hint—and the compliment—and poured him a generous glass before refilling her own. Not that she should be drinking any more before eating. Her defenses were down, no, make that nonexistent. Even hearing Summer and Riley talking behind them didn’t dispel the heat Josh was throwing off.