A couple of hours with Mindy, spending time with her in her house, watching her cook, eating with her, helping her clean up, brought back a flood of good memories. Reminded him just how much he missed her, enjoyed being with her.
Not to mention the sexual chemistry between them. When they stood at the sink washing dishes together, when their fingers brushed under the water, it had felt like a jolt of electricity buzzing through his veins. Her scent, the way she looked at him, the sound of her voice…
He could easily find himself falling for her again. Maybe he was right now…
Did she feel the same? Probably not but hell, he was most likely speculating anyway. Getting caught up in old feelings and memories, thinking they had a chance when it was so very clear they didn’t.
Once they’d finally finished cleaning the dinner dishes, they set up the cookies and frosting at the table, the two of them quietly going to work on decorating the cookies, Christmas music from Mindy’s iPhone playing in the background. Just as he remembered, the cookies were melt-in-his-mouth delicious, buttery and sweet, and the frosting was good, too. He ate one for every three he frosted, laughing when Mindy glared at him, pointing her green-frosting-covered knife straight at him in an accusatory way.
“I saw you eat that cookie, Joshua Powers. I believe it’s the third one you’ve devoured in fifteen minutes.”
“And I’ve frosted at least ten.” He waved a hand at the cookies he’d already finished, which sat on the cookie sheet. “You’ve frosted what, three?”
His gaze dropped to the paper plate Mindy was using to set her frosted cookies on. They were like little works of art, frosted carefully, sprinkles scattered across the top, whereas he’d just frosted and moved on like he was some sort of machine.
“Well, they are a little prettier than mine,” he conceded when she hadn’t said anything.
She set a pretty green tree with red and white stars sprinkled on top on the plate, watching him with both brows raised. “A little prettier? Josh, your cookies are sort of…clumpy-looking.”
“Fine, a lot prettier.” He sighed, then snagged one of the clumpy-looking cookies off the pan and shoved it in his mouth. “And clumpy is definitely edible, I might add,” he said once he swallowed.
Shaking her head, she started in on another one, her knife moving precisely over the cookie. “You haven’t changed a bit. All about getting it done and not paying attention to the details.”
“What are you talking about? I’m all about the details.” Now he was offended. He was an arson investigator for God’s sake. Looking for the details was what he did for a living.
“Not when it comes to frosting cookies.”
“I don’t need to make them look pretty. They taste so damn good, no one’s going to notice. They’ll be too busy shoving them down their throat like I am.”
A little smile curved the corners of her lips as she continued frosting. “They’re as good as my mom’s?”
“Maybe better.” Her mom had always made them a little thin. Mindy’s were thicker and soft. “You learned from a master though.”
“I like to think I’ve improved on her recipe. The boys love doing this. It’s a Christmas tradition I’ve carried on from my childhood, you know? That’s important. Tradition.” She set the finished cookie on her plate and picked up another one.
He couldn’t stop staring at her. She was so beautiful, her blond hair tucked behind her ears, her mouth screwed up in concentration as she frosted, green eyes narrowed, her elbows propped on the edge of the table. He remembered many Christmases doing this very thing with her. Maybe an extra McKenzie sibling or two sitting at the table but usually it was just them.
Just Josh and Mindy.
He’d heard their names said together so many times over the years it had felt weird not to hear it. Eventually, he’d grown used to no more Josh and Mindy.
But he missed it. Missed them. It felt good, sitting in the kitchen with her, quietly frosting sugar cookies. Silly but true.
Being with her like this, made him feel like he’d come home.
“Tradition is definitely important,” he finally said, his voice low, his entire body tight with longing. She lifted her head, her gaze snagging with his and she stilled. “So are old friends.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. Old friends. They’re definitely important.”
Nice to know they both agreed on that matter.
After they finished frosting—and eating—the cookies, they moved into the living room. He’d stoked the fire, stacking fresh wood in the fireplace and sitting back on his haunches, watching the flames dance high. It was warm, the crackle and sizzle of the wood burning the only noise in the otherwise quiet of the house. The television had been turned off before dinner, the heavy snow falling obscuring the satellite dish and making it hard to stay in tune. Mindy’s Christmas playlist had ended long ago and she hadn’t bothered to restart it, which was fine with him.
“Nothing like having an expert keeping up the fire, right?” Mindy teased.
He glanced over his shoulder to watch as she sat on the couch, curling her legs beneath her. Damn, she was pretty, her blond hair falling in soft waves to her shoulders, her green eyes sparkling as she smiled at him. “I’d say I’m a professional fire starter,” he answered.
“Don’t let that get out since you’re the arson investigator around these parts. People might start suspecting you of wrongdoing.” She laughed and he joined in, shaking his head, turning so he faced the fire once more. The flames warmed his skin, heated his cheeks, and he cleared his throat, wishing he had the courage to say more, something significant but instead he kept his mouth clamped shut.
It was easier that way.
“It’s the ones you least suspect who’ll wrong you the most,” he finally said after a few minutes of neither of them talking. He was referring to his work. The amount of arsonists who were actually firefighters was astounding.
“Isn’t that the truth,” she mumbled.
Hell. He closed his eyes and hung his head, feeling like a complete jackass. His comment probably made her remember how she’d been treated.
“Not everyone you’re close to wants to screw you over,” he said after a too-long, too-quiet moment.
“You’re right,” she said, sounding weirdly cheerful. “My family is always there for me.”
“Exactly. You can count on them no matter what.” Josh nodded.
“And I have a few close friends who are always watching out for my back. Then there’re my sons. They would never purposely hurt me.”
“They’re good boys, I’m sure. Just like their mom.”
She rolled her eyes so hard he swore he heard it. How he knew she was even doing it, he hadn’t a clue but he’d bet money she was. “Right, because I’m a saint and perfect.”
“No, that’s Chloe McKenzie’s position. Remember, she’s the town princess?” He turned again to look at Mindy and saw that she was really laughing now. Relief flooded him. He didn’t want her sad. He wanted her happy. More than anything, he thought he might want to be the one who made her happy.
And that sort of thinking blew his mind.
“The town princess? Really?” Mindy asked.
“What? You know it’s true.”
Now she was Cam’s queen—and quite happy with her regal role as wife to the town’s former bad boy.
“Don’t be bagging on my sister-in-law. She finally tamed my brother and convinced him living in his hometown wasn’t going to kill him,” Mindy said, shaking her head. “Chloe’s the best thing that ever happened to Cam.”
What was that like? Having a woman come into his life and change it irrevocably. He’d never had any sort of life-changing moment with a woman. He’d been in a solid relationship, he’d had great sex, and he was perfectly happy with his life.
But what would happen if a woman knocked him off his feet with merely a glance, a touch, a simple kiss on the lips? He’d talked to Cam a little bit about Chloe. Cam
had flat-out admitted he thought nothing of her until that summer he’d come home to find her so damn tempting he couldn’t resist kissing her.
That had been it. One kiss and he’d known he wanted Chloe and no one else, though he’d been reluctant to admit it. Cam’s admission had blown Josh away only because he didn’t quite understand how that had happened. It seemed completely beyond his logical brain’s comprehension.
Now he wished he did understand it. Could he have something like that with someone? With Mindy?
You’re crazy for even thinking it.
They talked about her family for a bit, Mindy giving him tidbits of gossip since she had the inside track, stuff he would’ve never known had it not been for her. He asked after her parents and she did the same. Funny how easily they fell back into the friendship roles. He enjoyed talking to her, catching up on the past, learning how much had changed within the McKenzies.
His good friend and coworker Christian Nelson was a part of the family, though they hadn’t talked in a while. Chris’s life was wrapped up in work, his wife, and her children. Plus, Jane was a couple of months pregnant, Mindy confessed, though it hadn’t been discussed much. They were letting Chloe have her moment in the sun first.
Mindy had a good family, a good life. So why did she beat herself up so much? So she left Marty and there really wasn’t much divorce in their family, big deal. Wasn’t it better to be out of a bad relationship than stuck in one?
“Well, you’ve been here for three hours,” she said with a faint smile. “And guess what? Still no tow truck.”
“Are you surprised?” He arched a brow at her. There had been no traffic outside for over an hour. She kept the front window uncovered most of the time and it overlooked the road that wound around the lake. Not a single car had passed.
“No, I guess not.” She smiled and plucked at an invisible string on the knee of her jeans. “So I suppose you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night.”
Yeah. Sounded like a complete hardship. Not. “I’m gonna call the tow company again. See if they can give me an ETA.”
“So official.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked worried and he wasn’t sure why. “And I doubt they’ll make it tonight, Josh. The wind outside is positively howling.”
It was. He’d been so enraptured with Mindy and their conversation he hadn’t paid particular attention. “I hate to put you out by my being here.”
“Your being here is entirely my fault. Well—” She glanced over to an overstuffed chair where Spike the orange tabby cat sat, curled into a ball and sleeping, blissfully unaware. “More like Spike’s fault.”
“I think you might’ve been pissed if I’d hit him,” he said, glaring at the cat, who didn’t so much as flinch.
Lucky little bastard. Looked like he had a rough life.
“He drives me nuts most of the time so maybe it would’ve been a relief.” She shook her head, a little huff of laughter escaping her. “I don’t mean that. The boys consider Spike their cat. They would be devastated if they lost him.”
“Guess it wasn’t his time to go then.”
“Guess not.” She clasped her hands together, wringing them as if she might be nervous. “So…I wish I had a guest bedroom to offer you but I don’t. I’d suggest sleeping in one of the boy’s bedrooms but…” She wrinkled her nose. “Their rooms smell like dirty socks and sweaty boy.”
He laughed and stood and Mindy did the same. “I think I remember my mom saying that exact same thing about my room.”
“Well, I don’t know what us girls see in you sweaty, messy boys.” She wrinkled her even more, squinting her eyes and the breath caught in his throat. She was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.
Josh quietly approached, until he was standing directly in front of her. “I guess we’re lucky you see something in us, right?”
She tilted her head back, her soft green gaze meeting his. “Absolutely.”
The urge to touch her was near overwhelming, and he curled his hands into fists. “You don’t mind me staying the night, do you?”
“No.” She slowly shook her head. “I don’t mind at all, Josh.”
He liked the way she said his name. He also liked the way she looked at him.
And he realized, right then and there, he was most definitely not over Mindy McKenzie Fenton. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Four
They’d gone to bed early because what else could they do? She could stare at him some more. Appreciate the way the fire cast a warm glow on his handsome profile, wish her fingers didn’t itch so much with wanting to touch his hair. It was thick and held a slight wave. She remembered how it used to cling to her fingers when she ran her fingers through it. Because she had, many times long, long ago. Taking liberties like she was his girlfriend, never thinking about how it would affect Josh.
She’d become a combination of tired and restless the longer she watched him, talked to him. Deciding she’d had enough, she’d feigned exhaustion and he’d agreed. He took the couch and she brought him a couple of pillows, a stack of blankets, and had been filled with a surge of jealousy at the fact that he would get to sleep in the warm from the fire and she was stuck in her cold-as-can-be bedroom upstairs. Same bedroom that had drafty windows and bare wood floors, that somehow always felt colder despite the thick rug that covered the majority of the floor.
So she lay there, tossing and turning, not tired in the least since it wasn’t normal for her to go to bed at nine o’clock at night. But what the heck else was she supposed to do? Sit there and moon over him like some sort of lovesick fool? Not that she was lovesick. Was she? She had a fondness for Josh that suddenly felt like a little more…
Frowning, she flipped over, facing her alarm clock, which taunted her with that evil red glow. She punched her pillow, fluffing it up, but then her head sunk deeper, frustrating her more.
At this rate, she’d never fall asleep.
Closing her eyes, she tried to count sheep. Think of Kyle and Chandler. Her boys in Hawaii, romping on the beach, running into the ocean…
Her thoughts switched automatically to Josh. Young Josh and young Mindy, the two of them together at her family home, one night in particular after he’d come over to watch a movie and everyone had sacked out with the exception of the two of them.
He’d looked so hopeful, scooting closer to her on the couch. Slipping his arm around her shoulders. She’d rested her head on his strong, muscled shoulder, reveling in the warmth of his friendship. Within a couple of days, it had been ruined. Both of them saying and doing things to each other that they could never, ever take back.
Her memory took a different turn. Instead of going with what she’d really done, she imagined what she might’ve done. What if she’d turned to him and whispered she’d like that, too? Maybe he would’ve pressed his lips to her forehead like he’d done so many times but instead, let his lips slide to her temple? Her cheek…her mouth…
Tingles swept over her skin just thinking about it.
Her eyes drifted closed, her mind floating. What would it be like, kissing Josh? He had large, kind hands. Would he cup her face when he leaned in and pressed his warm, damp mouth to hers? Ah, she’d always loved that sort of thing. Always wished for that sort of thing. She and Marty had been together for so long; all romantic gestures had fallen by the wayside the last few years of their marriage. Her ex had never been much of a romantic, period. Not that she thought Josh was a swoony romantic type either, but she bet he had more passion in his pinkie finger than Marty had in his entire body.
And she’d really like to see Josh unleash that passion all over her.
Stifling a soft moan, she clamped her legs together and closed her eyes tight. Like he’d ever unleash any sort of passion all over her. What had gotten into her? If he’d wanted to make a move, he’d had his opportunity earlier. Multiple times. He probably didn’t want to deal with possible rejection again because who would? She’d done such a good
job the first time around he didn’t want to risk it.
Why was she so obsessed with the “what if” when it came to Josh anyway? A few minutes in his presence and she wanted more. Maybe it was all of those old memories rising to the surface. Or she wanted what she’d once thought she could never have.
Things had changed. She could have whatever she wanted. And maybe…
She wanted Josh.
The house went deathly quiet and she opened her eyes to find the taunting red numbers from her alarm clock had disappeared. The heater’s gentle hum was silenced. The tiny lights that were like little dots, from the various electrical things within the house had gone dark.
Great. The power was out. Now what was she going to do? Her bedroom would go cold in an instant. It would probably be smarter if she went downstairs and slept close to the fireplace…
Slipping out of bed, she padded over to her dresser and pulled out another pair of socks, putting them on her feet. She was already clad in her warmest fleece pajama pants, dark green with a white snowflake pattern. An old, black, long-sleeved T-shirt she’d worn to bed for years and her hair pulled into a bun on top of her head.
Ugh. She probably looked a mess. Oh well, who cared? Right now, she was all about comfort.
And warmth.
She opened her closet door and felt around until she grabbed onto a hooded sweatshirt, tugging it off the hanger. She pulled it on, the thick fabric immediately warding off the chill that was already settling within the quickly cooling room. The UGG slippers she’d gotten for Christmas four years ago were right where she always kept them, just under the bed on her side.
Well. Both sides were her side now that she slept alone every night. And wasn’t that a depressing thought?
Oh please. Get over yourself.
Yeah. She so needed to get over herself. If she really wanted a man in her life, she could run right out and grab one. Make it happen because come on. She was still young, in her early thirties. There was still time for her to find someone else. She wasn’t a dried-up, old prune.
Stranded with a Hero (Entangled Bliss) Page 4