Just One Night - Josh & Bailey (Crossroads Book 13)

by Melanie Shawn

  Her mom had always told her that her first time was going to be awful, painful, and something that she just needed to get over with. But, like so many other things, her mother had been wrong. Her first time had been amazing. At the time, she’d felt so mature, so adult. Compared to other teenagers, she supposed that she was.

  Besides her part-time job, she’d attended summer school, night school, and had taken a zero period so she could complete all four years of high school in two. She’d been accepted to Columbia and Brown before she was old enough to have a driver’s license.

  She’d always known that the ticket to not turning out like her parents was her brain. From the time she could tie her own shoes, she’d been planning her getaway. The fighting. The name-calling. The constant moving. It had been a world of chaos, and she knew that the only way to survive was to plot her escape. College would be her escape.

  But it turned out not to be her only one. When she moved to Harper’s Crossing she met Josh and nothing that was going on in her house mattered. He’d been her escape, her safe place, her home. From the moment he’d asked her if she wanted to be his girlfriend, they’d been inseparable. They spent every minute they could together.

  Bailey felt her eyes start to water as a black cloud settled over her. It was the same black cloud that she’d been running from since the day she left Harper’s Crossing and Josh and every shred of her childhood behind.

  Sense memory was a powerful thing. Without permission from her brain, feelings that she’d been stifling for two decades exploded within her with the same force as a confetti gun sprinkling tiny shreds of paper on every surface in its immediate vicinity.

  Bailey was a master compartmentalizer. It was a skill that she’d learned at a very early age as a way to cope with her less than picturesque home life. Looking back, it was clear to her that as a young child her mind couldn’t begin to comprehend the instability of never knowing if she was going to come home from school and there’d be an eviction notice on the door and having to sneak in back windows so landlords didn’t know that they were home, which was how they’d lived until they’d moved into her grandfather’s house. Or being awoken by screaming matches and finding a new hole in the wall when she ventured out in the morning.

  All of that changed when she’d met Josh. As odd as it sounded to her now, they truly had created their own family dynamic. Josh had lost his mom two years prior to their meeting, so it was just him and his dad. Stan Scott was a good man, but he was dealing with the grief of losing the love of his life.

  Josh had told her that she’d filled a hole in his heart that was left after his mom died. And she’d told him that he’d filled a void in her life that had always been there. She knew to most people what they had would be considered puppy love, but that’s not what it was. It was real. The most real love she’d ever shared with anyone.

  And her choices caused her to lose it. Forever.

  When they went over a bump, her eyes opened and she saw that Josh had driven past the front entrance of the country club to a small, secluded area at the side. She was grateful for the privacy. She had flashed him when she got on the bike, a moment she knew he hadn’t missed. Even in the dark on that desolate back road, she’d seen his jaw tighten and his eyes dart around.

  It was the same thing he’d done when they were fourteen swimming down at the river and she’d had a wardrobe malfunction. After an impressive backflip off a rock she’d emerged from the water with the triangle material of her bathing suit top pushed under her armpits.

  She had thought it was funny, but not Josh. It hadn’t seemed to make any difference that there wasn’t another soul to witness her. He’d thrown a towel around her as he’d scanned the area looking for anyone who might’ve been around and caught a glimpse.

  That was Josh. He was always trying to protect her. She’d never appreciated it at the time, but she did now.

  As he pulled to a stop and set his foot on the ground, Bailey found herself suddenly short of breath. She began to hyperventilate, knowing that in seconds she would swing her leg over the seat and he’d be out of her arms. She fisted her hands in an attempt to stop herself from gripping onto his shirt holding him in place, and begging him to be in her life again.

  It might’ve been her imagination, or just wishful thinking, but it seemed that he didn’t want this moment to end, either. He stilled and she could feel his breath coming in short pants as his back rose and fell against her cheek.

  Part of her brain, the logical side, knew what she needed to do. She needed to get off the bike, thank Josh for his help, and forget this anomaly in their strained relationship had ever occurred. But the other side, the side that was ruled by her heart, was pleading for her to tell him that she still loved him. That she’d always loved him. That she’d never stopped loving him.

  But that would mean telling him everything. The whole truth. And that was the one thought that made her even more scared than letting him go.

  * * *

  Josh felt Bailey’s weight shift as she dismounted, and without warning, his heart did a nose dive. It didn’t surprise him. He’d never stopped loving her. No matter how many times he replayed her cutting him out of her life. No matter how many times he reminded himself of all the unreturned phone calls and unanswered messages. No matter how many times he remembered the things she’d said to him when he’d shown up on her doorstep to confront her.

  “I have a life now. A real life. I don’t love you, Josh. I don’t think I ever did. I was a kid. We were kids. You were a distraction from my shitty home life. I needed a distraction. That’s all you were. A distraction.”

  It had struck a fear that he’d always harbored deep in his subconscious. Her home life had been bad, and she always said that when she was with him he made everything okay. That he was her safe place. He’d wondered if she’d still love him if her life was different.

  Truth be told, he’d loved being her escape. It hadn’t mattered to Josh that they were young, or that his friends would tease him about spending all of his time with her. When it came to Bailey, he had blinders on. She was his world.

  He knew now that it was naive of him to think that they’d end up together, but as a love-struck kid he’d never given it a second thought. It had never occurred to him that her feelings hadn’t been as real and lasting as his were. And he sure as hell had never considered the possibility that he’d only been a distraction to her.

  “Thanks!” She spoke loudly to be heard over the roar of the engine.

  He knew the gentlemanly thing to do would be to shut the bike off, but he honestly wanted this interaction over as quickly as possible. The damage that had been done by speaking to her again, having her on the back of his bike, and feeling her body pressed against his had already set him back years in his journey to finally get over Bailey Rossum.

  He gave her a small nod of acknowledgement as she started to remove his jacket. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the leather sleeves slip down her arms, revealing sun-kissed skin that shimmered beneath the twinkle lights strung across the entrance to the country club. He told himself that it was just skin, nothing special. But he knew better. He knew that her skin was silky smooth and tasted as sweet as sugar. He used to joke that she tasted so sweet she was going to give him diabetes.

  She handed back his leather bomber and reached up to release the clasp tucked beneath her chin. After several seconds of her fidgeting with it, she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.

  “Push in and then pull,” he instructed. He didn’t trust himself enough to touch her again. Earlier, when he’d helped her put it on, his self-control had nearly snapped like a twig beneath Paul Bunyan’s boot. He’d almost done something stupid. Something like tell her how fucking beautiful she was or how much he’d missed her, or worse—kissing her before he snapped out of the spell he’d fallen under.

  Her face contorted. “What? I can’t hear you!”

  He cut the engine, set his jacket on his thigh, a
nd lifted his hands to demonstrate as he repeated, “Push in then pull out.”

  She studied his movements and tried to mirror them but it didn’t budge. The helmet was old and the fastener stuck. The trick was not to loosen the tension as you pulled.

  His choices were give her the helmet or help her out of it, so he gave in. His hands covered hers and he pushed in and pulled out. Her breathing sped as he unlatched the gear. When the clasp released, he dropped his arms to his sides. She removed the headwear and handed it to him.

  He was about to start the engine up and get the hell out of Dodge when she caught him completely off guard. Her fingers dipped beneath the material strung tight against her chest. She adjusted the dress by tugging the neckline up. The action caused her cleavage to rise. A groan rose from deep in his chest but he managed to gulp it down as his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

  Bailey’s body had always been his wet dream come to life. The first time he’d ever seen her naked, he almost came in his pants. One would think that the affect her curves had on him would’ve lessened over the years, but instead it seemed to have heightened. His dick was so hard he could use it as a kickstand.

  “Do I look okay?” Her nose scrunched as she ran her hands down her dress. “I mean…am I all in?”

  Josh knew there was no ulterior motive of enticement at play, but still.

  “You’re good,” he rasped.

  He’d swallowed the groan that had tried to rip from his chest but he was unable to disguise the gritty rawness of his voice. He was practically choking on his arousal.

  “Really?” The sincerity in Bailey’s large brown eyes was almost enough to undo him. She bit her bottom lip as her fingers attempted to tame the wild strands of her long hair. “It doesn’t look like I just…” She shut her mouth and he knew exactly what she’d been about to say.

  Images of her beneath him as he made love to her, of her face alighted with pleasure that he was giving her entered his mind’s eye. He hated that he knew the sound Bailey made when he was buried deep inside of her. He hated that he knew exactly what her hair looked like after he’d made sweet love to her. He hated that he’d never been able to erase from his memory the way her lower back arched when she came. And he hated how every time they’d make love, she’d snuggle against his chest, sigh and say, “I just can’t get close enough to you.”

  That was how he felt. He couldn’t get close enough to her. She was as much a part of him as his DNA. And he missed her. He missed her more than he’d admitted to himself.

  His defenses began slipping away, but then he remembered her final words to him all those years ago. “I needed a distraction. That’s all you were. A distraction.”

  “You’re fine,” he said gruffly as he put on his helmet and jacket, started his bike, and rode away, leaving a confused-looking Bailey in his wake.

  He’d done the right thing picking her up and bringing her here. She was safe…but that didn’t mean that he was.

  Chapter 4

  “There has to be something we can do, or someone else I can speak to…” This night just kept getting worse, and worse, and worse. She’d forgotten her purse in the back of Josh’s bike and now she was being turned away at the door.

  “Ma’am, calm down.” The young Gigi Hadid lookalike spoke in a tone so condescending it grated Bailey’s soul. “I can’t complete your registration without I.D., a ticket, and a partner.”

  Deep breaths.

  Bailey was doing her best to keep her composure, but this chick was pushing every single one of her buttons. Buttons that were extra sensitive thanks to Josh and his bike. And his smile, and his touch, and his smell…

  “I’d be more than happy to help you when you have those things, ma’am.” The model-thin blonde looked down at the device she held in her hands, dismissing Bailey.

  Bailey’s fingers curled into a fist. If she ma’am’d her one more time, she was going to lose it.

  When she’d realized that her bag—which contained her phone and wallet—was still in the back of Josh’s motorcycle, it was too late to catch him. He’d sped away from her without even so much as a goodbye. Which she’d taken personally, because it was. She knew once he realized he still had her purse he’d get it back to her, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind about that. It was Josh. The only problem was, if he didn’t get it back to her in the next fifteen minutes, she was going to be disqualified.

  “What’s your name?” Bailey asked calmly.

  “Sierra.”

  “Sierra, I understand that you’re just doing your job. And I appreciate your dedication. I think we started off on the wrong foot. My name is Dr. Bailey Rossum. I’m a pediatric surgeon at HCC. I left my bag in my ride and my partner was unable to attend. But I’m here. There are dozens of people in that room that can attest to who I am and I have accrued over fifty thousand dollars in pledges that will be lost if we don’t resolve this in a timely manner.”

  All she needed to do to secure that money was get past Sierra. Well, that and stay on her feet for the next twenty-four hours…which, she could. Obviously.

  She was a pediatric surgeon who had done her residency at Johns Hopkins. She’d had lives in her hands and had to stay alert for forty-eight, even seventy-two hours. Twenty-four hours of dancing was child’s play.

  Mirroring the same tone that Bailey had taken, Sierra spoke in a calm, authoritative tone. “To check you in, I need your I.D., your ticket and your partner. Those are the rules.”

  Bailey didn’t appreciate being patronized, but she held her tongue. Her losing it on Sierra wasn’t going to help the hospital.

  Seeing that the tactic she was taking had little to no efficacy, she changed course. “This is a fundraiser. Right?”

  Sierra didn’t answer her.

  “I’m here, I’m ready to dance, and I raised the funds. My partner did not. He had nothing to do with the money pledged.”

  “The money you collected was collected as a team.”

  Oh for the love of Michael Bublé.

  “Peter was a stand-in. A prop. Anyone could be him.”

  Without missing a beat and her smirk smirkier than ever, Sierra shot back, “Great. Then it shouldn’t be a problem replacing him.”

  Well played. Bailey gave the girl props. Silently, of course. She might not like her, but she was beginning to respect her.

  “Now, if you could move to the side. Only ticket holders are permitted at the event.”

  “I am a ticket holder.”

  Sierra ignored her statement and tapped on the electronic notebook she was holding.

  Bailey was not someone who took no for an answer. She’d spent months gathering pledges. People had donated and she wasn’t about to let it go to waste. “I need to speak to your supervisor.”

  If a smile could be classified as condescending, that’s exactly how she’d describe the smirk that curled at Sierra’s lips. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

  “Really?” Bailey found that difficult to believe and her irritation was beginning to reach the point of no return, which she knew was only partly to do with Sierra.

  Bailey’s mind naturally compartmentalized in pie chart form, especially when it came to her emotions. Some might find that strange, but it had served her well as a coping mechanism. As she stood staring down Sierra, she visualized a circle filled with different-sized triangles and the smallest one was this situation. The next, comprising about twenty percent was her losing her patient. Then there was about thirty percent devoted to miscellaneous, i.e. not being able to sleep, getting stood up, Buford breaking down, etc. But half the pie belonged to one man: Joshua Scott.

  She was off-balance and completely shaken by their encounter. There was a strong possibility she was about to take out her frustration on one Ms. Sierra.

  Bailey could hear her voice rising, even as she reasoned with herself that it would only make it worse. “You have no one that you report to? You are in charge of this entire event? You are responsible for each an
d every aspect of this fundraiser?”

  “Well, hello there young ladies!” A full, rich voice that put a smile on Bailey’s face no matter what kind of a day she was having projected from behind her. “What seems to be the problem?”

  She turned to see Grandpa J, a man that had adopted the entire town of Harper’s Crossing and called everyone under the age of sixty, kids, emerge from the ballroom. He volunteered at the hospital where his daughter-in-law, Grace, was a nurse. In the years since Bailey had been back, she’d grown very fond of and very attached to the man.

  No one could ever replace her own Grandpa Amos, but Grandpa J held a very special spot in her heart. Whenever she, or anyone else at the hospital needed it, he always seemed to be around with an encouraging word, a strong shoulder, or even a slightly off-color joke. His ability to show up and take the edge off, make things bearable, and lighten a mood was uncanny.

  “There’s no problem, sir.” Sierra turned, so her back was facing Bailey, making it very clear that the conversation they were having was over. “What can I help you with?”

  “You can help me by telling me what the problem is.” Grandpa J was the kindest soul that Bailey had ever had the pleasure of knowing, but that did not make him a pushover. If he wanted information, he got it.

  He’d been a Colonel in the Army and had an air of authority that had not diminished with age. In fact, the entire male population of Harper’s Crossing referred to him as The Colonel. He effortlessly commanded respect.

  “To check someone in for the competition I need an ID and a ticket and a partner. Ms. Rossum has none.” The girl who had copped quite the attitude with Bailey, softened while speaking to Grandpa J.

  Smart cookie.

  “I left my bag in my ride—,” Bailey began to explain but Grandpa J cut her off.

  “This is Dr. Bailey Rossum. She’s the senior attending physician of pediatric surgery at HCC.” He took out his phone and Bailey had to admit she was surprised when he turned it around and her physician page from HCC was displayed. He scrolled down the list of awards and recognition she’d received. “See here. Look at all these. She’s a big shot.”