Having It All

by Christi Barth

  Nothing could be sexier than Josh behind a stove.

  He’d stripped off his overshirt soon after she got there. The tight white undershirt clung to his sculpted abs. Biceps strained against the short sleeves. Dark blond hair dusted his forearms, and she’d glanced over more than once in the past hour to watch his muscles flex as he furiously chopped and diced and stirred.

  What had Madison called it the other day? She’d been oohing and aahing, as only an engaged woman did, over how hot Knox looked when he got down to what the guys called his brainiac thing at the computer.

  Oh yes, competence porn.

  Josh Hardwick was supremely competent in a kitchen. And his food was orgasmic. So yeah, Annabeth shouldn’t have any more wine in his vicinity…but she desperately needed it.

  Griffin and Chloe came in the back door, batting off snow. After a round of greetings, Griffin went down the hall to hang their coats, while Chloe sat next to Summer. Automatically, Annabeth poured her a glass of wine. Instead of sitting with her friend, though, she ended up back hovering next to Josh.

  Because he was irresistible.

  Because she was oh-so-tired of trying to resist him.

  Annabeth cocked her hip to lean against the counter. “I’m jealous of your stove. Mine doesn’t actually work.”

  An extremely judgmental glare arrowed at her. “Are you one of those women who stores shoe boxes and purses in the oven?”

  “No.” She laughed. “I’m not at your level, but I’m a decent enough cook. I had to be. My brothers considered ketchup to be a food group. It was either learn to do it better, or be stuck eating whatever processed crap they nuked or boiled.”

  “Food is life.” Josh swapped the glare for a panty-melting smile. “But good food makes for a much better life.”

  “Exactly. Anyway, my stove stopped working a few days ago. I’ve just been too slammed to find the time to get it fixed. Now it’ll have to wait until after this weekend. No way am I paying double-time rates for the holiday.”

  He waved one of his wooden spoons in the air. “No problem. I’ll fix it for you tomorrow morning.”

  “You’re neither a plumber nor an electrician,” she pointed out.

  “You not knowing which of those should fix your stove proves that just about anyone is more qualified than you. Plus, I'm a cook. I know how to handle my tools, and the stove’s a tool.” Josh grinned. “Trust me, I’m good with my hands.”

  Oh, she bet he was.

  Annabeth crossed to the double-wide, stainless-steel refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. Then she had to consciously force herself to sip from it, rather than rubbing its coolness across her chest and forehead. “That’s a generous offer, but what about your family? The whole turkey, stuffing, and fill-your-pie-hole holiday?”

  “These guys are my family. Right here.” He tilted his head to indicate Griff, who’d just come back in and plopped down next to Riley. “The Naked Men. My parents are hosting twenty movers and shakers. Me being there would drag down their business strategy for the night. Frankly, I was gonna crash Logan’s family dinner.”

  With the ramped-up activity at the boutique and all her extra work on the website sales, Annabeth knew she wouldn’t take the time to deal with the oven until January. Why not say yes?

  Aside from the obvious problem of the two of them being alone, though, in her apartment.

  Common sense and self-control were good ways, in theory, to resist Josh’s charm. Reality, though, made them about as solid a defense as using a lace camisole instead of a bulletproof vest.

  With a weird amount of stiff formality, she said, “Thank you, Josh. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  “You’ll be doing me a favor. It’ll get me out of my own head.” He scraped his fingers through his blond hair. “I’ve been driving myself crazy for two days.”

  Whatever was bugging Josh, it could be a distraction from Annabeth being attracted to him. Awesome. Annabeth lifted her glass and tried to look casually interested, rather than intensely needy. “About what?”

  “I’ve been planning to buy another food truck. Expansion would be good business sense, and I’ve trained enough kids now to be sure that it would work.”

  “Dude, I told you to do that six months ago,” Knox complained as he came up the stairs from the basement. “Am I going to get credit when you finally get your ass in gear and do this?”

  Griffin threw a wadded-up napkin, hitting Knox smack dab in the middle of one of his designer shirts with French cuffs and about two hundred percent more fanciness than anyone else in the room. “Not everyone moves at your warp speed, Davies. Let Josh be Josh.”

  “Thank you.” Josh bowed from the waist, flapping a dishtowel. “Knox, I’ll put your name on one of my sandwiches. How’s that for gratitude?”

  “Acceptable. As long as I get a vote on the ingredients.” He grabbed the bottle of wine and gave Annabeth an approving nod. “Your choice, I assume? The rest of these heathens would’ve grabbed either rotgut or my twenty-five-year-old Rothschild Cabernet.”

  Josh banged his spoon against the pot. “Look, Knox, I’ve got a bigger problem than giving your ego a hand job. After we did that podcast with Kordell and his friends? The response has been tremendous. Satellite Entertainment Radio can’t handle the level of emails and calls they’re getting.”

  “That’s great.” Annabeth raised her glass in a toast. “Your food is so much better than most of the other trucks in D.C.” It was exciting to be here, sharing what felt like a pivotal moment with him. With all of them.

  “I like to think so.” He started pulling trays of appetizers out of the fridge. Annabeth took each one and placed it in the middle of the kitchen table. Why bother moving when everyone was comfortable in here? “It put me into this tailspin of what-if.”

  “In what way?”

  Next, he took down festive margarita glasses with blue rims from a cabinet. “Knox, do you remember when you tied me down and helped me create a business plan?”

  “Oh yeah. Pretty sure that was the most uncomfortable day of both of our lives. And I’m including the hellscape of our three days marooned in the Alps.”

  “Well, your five-year plan was too fast for me, so I had a ten-year plan. Multiple trucks around D.C. and franchises in a couple of other cities. Now that we’ve got this satellite-radio gig, I could do way more, way faster. Help more kids who need a hand.”

  It all sounded great. Except that if it was all great, Josh wouldn’t be volunteering to fix her stove to escape thinking about it. “But?” Annabeth prodded.

  “But it’s a pipe dream. The more I think about it, no matter how many different ways I try and make it work, it’ll take a level of financing that I just don’t have.” Josh swung around to face Knox. “Especially since I’ve got to find a place of my own to live ASAP.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Will you stop acting like I handed you an eviction notice the day I slid the ring on Madison’s finger? You don’t see Logan running out of here, do you? Or Riley?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to evict me. But first and last month’s rent won’t make a difference to my problem anyway. Buying the trucks, supplying the raw ingredients, staffing, permits, fuel, equipment, insurance—it’s too much. Strategically, now’s the time to strike with a mega expansion because there’s all this interest. I just can’t swing it.”

  Wow. That sounded like so many levels of impossible that Annabeth wondered why Josh had even considered it in the first place.

  Griffin made a buzzing noise. “Wrong.”

  “You mean you can’t quit being so stubborn.” Riley twisted around, putting an arm over the top of the ladderback chair. “Because we all know damn well that you can swing it.”

  “You mean Knox would loan him the money if he’d just ask?” Chloe beamed as if she’d solved a mystery on the first try.

  “Of course I’d loan this pudding head money. At an appropriate interest rate
, of course. Something like making him tell me on a daily basis that, indeed, my muscles are bigger than his.” Knox paused to dramatically pop a, yes, impressive biceps. Well, the women looked impressed. Riley turned his head to the side and faked a dry heave. “But he doesn’t need to ask for my help.”

  “Don’t,” Josh warned.

  “Don’t what? You just got through saying that we’re all family here. There are no secrets. Maybe peer pressure could get you over this hump.”

  “What hump?” Annabeth asked, more confused than ever.

  Griffin stabbed his fingers through blond hair almost identical to Josh’s. Just a little shorter with his Coast Guard cut. “Josh has money. Josh has a shit-ton of money from his family’s business. A beautiful, plump account full of cash that’s just waiting to be spent on a good cause. He’s one of the principal shareholders.”

  “That’s not my money,” Josh said flatly. “I didn’t earn it, so I’m not touching it.”

  “That excuse is more old and tired than the pickup line you used on Jada Washington at our Memorial Day barbecue.”

  Knox did a double-snap, fist-bump combo. “We’re not telling you to blow it on a gambling weekend in Macau. If you use it to grow your business, to help struggling kids, where’s the downside?”

  “I need to be able to face myself in the mirror every morning. That’s what.” Josh slammed down the pitcher, sloshing margaritas over the blue glass rim. “Can’t I just blow off some steam without getting the third degree?”

  Riley looked at Knox. Then Griff. After whatever silent communication passed between them, he shrugged and pointed at the dips. “I’m happy to stuff my face instead of flapping my mouth.”

  Annabeth grabbed two bags of tortilla chips and dumped them into bowls. And then she gathered serving spoons for the dips he’d laid out.

  But it wasn’t so easy for her.

  Because, having lived an entire life without any extra money, it literally took her breath away that Josh had money that he was ignoring.

  Because it was all she could do not to push him into a chair, stick a finger in his face, and ask, why…

  CHAPTER SIX

  “You need a new stove,” Josh announced as he scowled at the sad shape of the linoleum beneath the appliance. Clearly, her landlord was an if you can’t see it, I ain’t fixing it kind of guy.

  Annabeth charged back into the kitchen, her oversized gray sweater swishing against her calves. “What? I thought you were going to repair it. You’re going to ruin Thanksgiving by telling me I need to spend hundreds of dollars on a new appliance?”

  “I did fix it.” His smugness was tempered by disgust at the god-awful excuse for an appliance in front of him. “You still need a new stove. This electric range is an abomination. Electric? Come on. That’s an insult to every dish you cook on it. You should go buy a gas stove. Immediately. I’ll help.”

  Online shopping was easy for him. Pictures and prices. His dyslexia didn’t extend to numbers, only letters.

  “You’re a snob.”

  Josh pushed the stove flush against the wall. “I appreciate using the right tool for the job. Would you make a race car driver at Indy use bargain-basement tires? Have a doctor use a plastic takeout knife instead of a perfectly honed scalpel?”

  “Well, I rent, and this one came with the place. Go lecture the landlord on my substandard appliance, not me.” Hands on her hips, she shot him a skeptical look, dark eyebrows lowering over half-squinted eyes. “Is it really fixed?”

  “Yup.” Now Josh was fixated on her hazel eyes. Usually, they were lined darkly, with lashes that spiked up. It was a sexy look. Or so he’d thought before seeing Annabeth with no makeup now. Everything about her looked…softer. Tousled hair down, all over her shoulders, like she’d just rolled out of bed. It was easy to imagine that she’d slept in that light gray tee and yoga pants.

  Hell, it was easy to imagine waking up next to her. And Josh never, ever woke up with a woman. They rocked the sheets, and then he went home to sprawl all across his king bed. He told them it was because he got up at the crack of ass for his food truck. The truth was more that he’d never come across a woman he wanted so much that he wanted to see her first thing in the morning.

  But this glimpse of early-morning Annabeth was intriguing. Usually, she had her war mask on, a finely honed chip on her shoulder, and gave off a strong don’t touch me vibe. Josh liked a challenge, so those things had never scared him off.

  Now, though? He didn’t want to do battle. He didn’t want to come out a victor.

  He simply wanted to be with her.

  Hell.

  Now he’d have to do something about that.

  The slow, sinuous neck crank Annabeth gave was probably supposed to indicate her frustration and disbelief. Instead, it reminded Josh of a cat stretching in sunlight. After she scrunched up her face and sucked in a deep breath, her eyes popped open. “You’ve only been here literally one minute. How can it be fixed already?”

  “Because there’s nothing wrong with it. Your plug was just half out of the socket. I pushed it in, presto, whammo, you’ve got power again.”

  “Ohhh, I feel like an idiot.” A half spin on her heel got her centered over the stool at the counter to perch on it. “There was an exterminator here a few days ago. Rummaging around behind everything. He must’ve knocked it loose.”

  “Oldest trick in the book. When in doubt, start by checking the plug. If that doesn’t work, move on to a good fist-bang or kick, depending on the size of whatever’s broken.”

  “If that’s your mission statement as a repairman? I’d say don’t give up your day job.”

  He dusted off his hands, more for show than anything. “Wow. Such a lack of gratitude on this, a day of national thanksgiving.”

  “You’re right.” Annabeth propped her elbows on the counter. Then she leaned her cheek on her fists. “I’m lashing out because I’m mad at myself. Mad that I didn’t think to try something so basic before dragging you out of bed early on a holiday.”

  “Hey. It’s not early. I usually start my work days at five. This nine-thirty meeting is luxurious. Like an early start on a lunch break.” Josh put his own elbows down. Widened his stance so that he could lean forward and be even with those stunning eyes that could darken to the color of milk chocolate or warm to the dusky green of a fresh rosemary sprig.

  “You’re funny. And gracious and sweet. Thank you—for bringing that big, snazzy toolbox and getting out of bed, regardless of the time.”

  He knew she meant the red metal monster he’d left by the sink. Josh preferred, however, to go a different way.

  Smirking, he said, “I take my toolbox with me wherever I go.” Then he winked in super slo-mo, hooking his thumbs into the waist of his jeans.

  Annabeth gave him a sly look, only half disapproving and half amused. “Dirty. This may be late for you, but for me? It’s too early for raunchy innuendo. Coffee’s a prerequisite for that sort of thing.”

  “Really? Being awake’s my only pre-req for flirting. Or being flirted with, in case you’re interested.”

  She didn’t rise to the bait. No casual, habitual flirting and no sniping at him for flirting either. Annabeth merely slid off the stool and padded in her socks to the coffeemaker. “I stayed up late working last night. I need caffeine more than I need oxygen right now.”

  “Pretty sure I heard Summer tell you to knock off for the holiday about, oh, fifteen hours ago. Do I need to rat you out? Snitch that you won’t be rested for the Black Friday hordes at her boutique because you burned the midnight oil?”

  There was an audible neck crack, she swung her head toward him so fast. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Wow.” Josh twisted, bracing his forearms behind him on the counter and crossing his ankles to face her. “Now you’ve racked up the fee for repairing your stove and you want me to keep a secret? You’re going to owe me big-time. Wonder what I could come up with as a creative way for you to work off that d
ebt.”

  “I’d offer to make you breakfast.” She sort of halfheartedly fluttered a hand at the fridge. “Although I’m sure it wouldn’t be half as good as what you could whip up.”

  “Flattery’s always appreciated. But I thought you told me you could cook.”

  “I can. Cooking for one’s no fun, though, and leads to boring leftovers for days. I don’t do it much since my roommate moved out at Halloween.”

  The mention of the holiday reminded Josh of the kiss they’d shared that night. It was a reminder he didn’t need. He’d already decided to make his move. Now he’d just have to do it while hoping Annabeth didn’t notice the growing bulge in his jeans. “Have you got another one moving in soon?”

  “With this new job giving me a paycheck that doesn’t fluctuate depending on how drunk my clientele gets, I thought I’d try to fly solo for a few months. I think I can swing it financially.” Crinkling her nose, Annabeth continued. “I’m more than ready not to live with random strangers anymore.”

  “You didn’t like that NTSB agent Riley found for you?”

  “Well, he only lasted two months. He was quiet, he cleaned the place better than I did. But then Mikhail transferred to the field office in Denver. Said it was to be near a girlfriend. I think he just learned about the legal and free-flowing pot out there. Either way? I’m glad my stove’s fixed so I can heat up takeout again.”

  Hot damn. Josh couldn’t have asked for a better segue.

  Even though it was probably the wrong time. A less than ideal time, for sure.

  But he was done waiting. And there was a good chance he’d be doing her a favor—what he was about to say would probably kick in her adrenaline way faster than coffee.

  “What if I wanted to heat things up?”

  “You want leftover takeout for breakfast? There might be half a container of drunken noodles, but I couldn’t swear to it…” Annabeth shuffled toward the refrigerator.

  Definitely not the ideal time. Guess he should’ve paid more attention to her insistence about the coffee. It was brewing, but Josh didn’t intend to stand around in silence while it dripped into the pot.