The Most Wonderful Time
Page 13
She told him to make himself comfortable in the parlor while she put the wine in the kitchen. A fire was blazing and a couple of platters of munchies had been laid out on the coffee table. Stockings hung on the mantel and garland swung from the staircase banister. Everything was designer perfect. Except for the tree, which looked anemic.
“What’s wrong with your tree?” he called to her.
“Nothing.” She came into the living room, holding two mugs. “I heated some cider. But if you’d prefer I could open the wine.”
“Nah, this is great.” He wondered if because of Chip she had a thing against drinking. “Where is everyone?”
She let out an audible sigh. “Foster had to work. He’s got a wedding this weekend. And Deb . . . she made other plans. It looks like it’s just us.”
“That’s too bad.” And dangerous.
“Dig in.” She pointed to the food. “I probably went overboard.”
“I didn’t have dinner so probably not.” Right then his stomach growled and she grinned.
They both sat on the sofa and Josh filled a small plate with what his mother would’ve called finger foods. Pretty, but not very filling.
“That’s one skinny-ass tree,” he said. Next to it were crates of decorations.
“Colt said the same thing. What’s with you Garners? You’ve never seen a silvertip before?”
“We always go with a Douglas fir . . . nice and fat.”
“The ornaments get hidden in those trees. When this one is decorated you’ll see how elegant it is.”
Josh wasn’t really into elegant but whatever. “The house looks good. Did you move in after you and Chip broke up?” They’d purchased a place together right before the wedding. It’d been a small cottage but Josh remembered Hannah being over the moon about it.
She nodded. “Chip bought me out. It turned out to be for the best because after the diagnosis Sabine needed me. There were a lot of bad memories in that cottage anyway.”
Chip had always been a happy drunk but Josh couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d become abusive in the later phase of his alcoholism. Josh knew it wasn’t uncommon.
“He wasn’t physical with you, was he?”
“Chip? Never.”
She got up, sorted through a box of clear lights, and began wrapping them around the tree. Josh joined her, taking over on the top half.
“I had a thing for you in high school, you know?” The words slipped out before he could call them back.
“What are you talking about?” She laughed. “You couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“I couldn’t stand the sight of you with Chip. But he had dibs and I abided by the guy code . . . never poach on your best friend’s girlfriend.”
Her face registered surprise. “I think you’re reinventing history. You thought I was a wimp. Remember how angry you were with Chip for spending too much time with me on the bunny slopes instead of flying down the double black diamond trails with you?”
“You misinterpreted anger for something entirely different.”
“Like what?” She stopped what she was doing and crossed her arms over her chest, which only helped accentuate those perfect breasts of hers.
“Jealousy. Look, I’m only telling you this because I know I wasn’t always nice to you and I feel crappy about it.”
“No, you weren’t. But I assumed you were irritated that I took Chip away from you and all the fun things you both liked to do . . . and later that I wasn’t a good wife.”
“He was a bad husband. You? You were . . .” the world. He shrugged. “Water under the bridge but I wanted to explain . . . apologize.”
At first she didn’t say anything, just stooped down to grab another ornament and hung it on a branch. “It explains something I always wondered about.”
“What’s that?” Josh finished with the lights.
“In the beginning there seemed to be electricity between us, like you were interested. Then, suddenly . . . ice cold. Because of Chip.” She let out a sigh. “You ever wonder what would’ve happened if you and I got together?”
Every goddamned day. “We were kids and I went to war.”
Something flickered across her face. Disappointment, maybe. It happened too fast for him to tell for sure. But the urge to kiss her was as constant as the throbbing in his leg.
“Can you put the Santa on top? I can’t reach.”
“Sure.” He took the ornament from her and placed it on the tallest branch when his knee gave out. Grabbing the wall, he stopped himself from toppling over.
“My God, are you okay?” Hannah ran to his side and wrapped her arm around his waist as if she could hold him up. He probably had ninety pounds on her.
“I’m fine,” he said, humiliated, and made it to the couch.
“Should I get a heating pad or some ice?”
“It’ll be okay in a minute.” He wanted her to stop making a big deal out of it. Until a few minutes ago he’d actually felt like a normal man again. He didn’t need to be reminded that he was disabled. His leg had done that all on its own.
“How about a throw blanket?”
“Hannah, enough!” he barked, and she flinched.
“I was just trying to help.”
“I don’t need help. But I do need to get home.” He pushed off of the couch, putting all his weight on his left leg, hoping like hell he didn’t fall on his face. “Thanks for having me over . . . for feeding me.”
“Let me get you to your—”
“I’m good.” He raised his voice louder than he should have. But he didn’t need her assistance getting to his goddamn truck.
He didn’t need anyone’s help with anything.
Chapter Six
Thursday morning, Hannah was in the middle of taping up the boxes of ugly sweaters she’d forgotten to ship back when Chip came in the store.
“Can I help you with something?” she asked.
“You don’t need to be so formal, Hannah, I just came in to say hi and see how you’re doing. It’s been awhile.”
“Not that long. I saw you in Old Glory the other night with Valerie.”
“We were getting dinner. Even though I don’t drink they have the best tri-tip in town.”
“I was just surprised you’d go into a bar . . . Valerie must be an amazing influence.” It was bitchy, but she enjoyed getting a little dig in.
“If there is anyone you should be angry with it’s me, not Val.”
Strangely enough she wasn’t angry with either of them. Just at herself. Not a day had gone by when she didn’t blame herself for not being stronger or tougher or giving Chip ultimatums but everything she’d read said you couldn’t negotiate with an alcoholic.
“We’re all good, Chip.”
“I heard Josh was over at your place last night.”
Ah, the real reason he was here. Apparently Deb hadn’t wasted time spreading the word. She liked to stick it to Chip every chance she got. Deb’s loyalty was commendable but Hannah preferred to keep her personal business out of the public eye. For years, Chip’s drunken antics had made them a household name in Glory Junction. Just for once, she’d like to maintain a low profile.
“I had a little holiday get-together,” she said, because to point out that it was none of his damn business would only make it seem like she had something to hide.
Chip snorted. “He didn’t even wait a full twenty-four hours.”
“For what?” She had no idea what he was talking about.
“I gave him permission to pursue you, since he’s wanted to get in your pants ever since our sophomore year in high school.”
If Josh hadn’t made his confession the previous night, Hannah would’ve laughed in Chip’s face. Instead, she let him have it. “You gave him permission? Who are you to give anyone permission to see me?”
“Your ex-husband.”
“‘Ex’ being the operative word.”
“Don’t go getting yourself all worked up. It’s a guy thing. Men
don’t sleep with their best friend’s exes. No matter what.”
Chip had dumped her, yet he got to decide whether one of his friends could see her. What kind of crap was that?
“Look,” she said. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d stay out of my business. You at least owe me that.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“Don’t! Worry about your own love life.” And staying sober.
“If it’s any consolation, it pissed Josh off too.”
She wasn’t going to have this conversation with him. Her private life was just that—private. Let Chip think that she and Josh were hot for each other when the last thing Hannah needed in her life was another man who didn’t want her help. Just offering to get Josh a heating pad for his leg had set him off. He might not be a drunk, but war had left him embittered and she didn’t have the wherewithal to take on another damaged soul.
Chip made a surrender motion with his palms. “Fine.”
“Well, now that we have that all settled you can go.”
“You kicking me out?”
“Yep.” She wrestled the vacuum cleaner out of a tiny utility closet.
“Okay, I can take a hint.”
She didn’t bother to explain that telling someone to get out of her store was way more than a hint. Next time, she’d just club him over the head with a baseball bat.
As soon as Chip was out the door, she locked up and went next door.
“Hi, Hannah. How are you, honey?” Mary looked up from the front desk of Garner Adventure.
“I’m good. Is Josh around?”
“He’s in my office. Go on back.”
“Thanks, Mary.”
Hannah made her way down the long, narrow hallway and found Josh sitting at his mother’s desk, tossing a Nerf ball into a toy net hung over the closet door. Good to know he was keeping busy.
He looked up and she said, “I’m not a piece of meat.”
“Okay.” He studied her face. “Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?”
“Chip said he gave you permission to date me and he has a hell of a nerve . . . and you . . . you . . . I expected more of you.”
“Hannah”—he motioned at a spare chair—“take a seat, would you?” She plopped down. “Now explain to me what exactly I did wrong.”
“You and Chip conspired behind my back.”
“Conspired?” He raised his brows. “Chip came over, said he knew I had a thing for you in high school, and told me that he and I would be good if I made a play for you. That was it.”
“And you don’t see anything wrong with that?”
“We had some words over it.” She waited but he didn’t elaborate.
“Well, I’m not a tradable commodity.”
“I never thought you were.”
“But Chip did.”
Josh let out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s a guy thing, Hannah. It was more about our friendship than it was about you. In any event, high school was a long time ago. We’re adults now . . . and”—he glanced down at his leg—“you don’t have to worry about me going after you. I couldn’t catch you if I tried.”
“Josh, why does everything boil down to physical prowess for you? For instance, this conditioning thing you’re doing to ski Royal Slope. No one is going to be impressed with you doing something idiotic.” And it was idiotic. His leg could barely hold him up. And while she didn’t have the heart to come right out and say it, there was no way in hell he would make it down. “So why are you putting yourself through this?”
“My family is in the extreme sports and adventure business, Hannah, so yeah, it’s about physical prowess. I need to know what I’m capable of doing and what’s off the table. Until then I’m a desk jockey, which really doesn’t work for me.” He looked at her, hard.
“You couldn’t do one of the less challenging trails?”
“I could, but if I want to start leading tours again I have to be at the top of my game.” Clearly tired of justifying himself, Josh shook his head as if to say: If I want to freaking climb and ski Denali, it’s my business. “I don’t know how we got off track. This was about Chip, remember? About me chasing after you. Like I said before, you’ve got nothing to worry about, since I’m incapable of catching you.”
She returned his same steely stare. “Perhaps you hadn’t noticed, Josh, I’m not running.” She got out of the chair and went back to her store.
* * *
Josh got out of the shower when he heard the door buzzer go off. He tugged on an extra pair of gym shorts and padded out to the reception area to see who was hitting the damn bell over and over again. Hannah.
He turned the dead bolt and let her in. “Back so soon?”
She gaped at his bare chest for a few seconds then blurted, “This Royal Slope scheme of yours is . . . ridiculous. But if it’s what you want I plan to help you.”
Sure, skiing Royal was borderline insanity. But Rangers did crazy-ass shit all the time. It’s what made them stronger and it built endurance. He didn’t have to barrel down the mountain. The goal was to get to the bottom in one piece. More important, though, was how the hell did she expect to help him? Hannah wasn’t exactly coach material—or a physical therapist, for that matter.
“Could you stop staring at my chest? I’m not a piece of meat.” He enjoyed throwing her own words back at her.
She swiftly averted her eyes. “Sorry.”
“I need to ice. Are you staying or going?”
“Staying . . . I guess.”
He deadlocked the door and went back into the locker room to put on a shirt and get the ice packs. When he returned, Hannah sat on the sectional, typing something on her phone.
“Whaddya doing?”
“My banking.”
“Your banking?” He cocked a brow.
“Store stuff.” She put the phone back in her purse.
“You over your visit from Chip this morning?”
“I’m done talking about that. I let him whip me up, which I shouldn’t have. Besides, I think your involvement was minimal.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because you’re too honorable to treat a woman like she’s a baseball trading card.” She glanced at his leg. “Does it hurt? Or shouldn’t I ask because you’ll get irritable . . . like you did last night?”
He had to stifle a grin. Hannah had spine and he liked a woman with spine. And, he’d been a crybaby. “Not too bad today. What’s this sudden revelation that I need help with my workouts? I don’t, by the way, but you’re welcome to hang out.” He suspected she worried that he’d overexert himself and die.
“I know you don’t. But . . . I need to feel a part of something . . . something bigger than me.”
He tilted his head, at a loss. “Why’s that?”
“Just humor me, please.” She turned away, staring off into the distance.
That’s when he got it. “I’m not Chip, Hannah, not even close. I don’t need an intervention.”
“Of course you’re not and of course you don’t. I would never compare you two. But you’ve been through a trauma and you’re trying to rebuild, which I totally respect, and it would mean a lot to me to be part of your support system.”
Like Val to Chip; she was paying it forward, as Josh liked to say. “Suit yourself. I’m here Tuesdays, Thursdays, and on the weekends.” He was tired of talking about himself. “You finish your tree?”
“I’ll get to it.”
“I should’ve at least helped you clean up.”
“There wasn’t a lot to do, Josh, don’t worry about it.”
He imagined she was used to doing everything on her own. In the time he’d been gone . . . there were so many things he didn’t know about her. “Besides the store and taking care of Sabine, what have you been doing all these years?”
“I got a marketing degree at University of Nevada, Reno. Since then, I’ve taken a few night classes at the local junior college in merchandising, which I love. If the
town keeps growing, I’m thinking about expanding the store.”
“Ambitious,” he said. “Would you carry the same kind of stuff?”
“I’d like to branch out into more furniture, like the glider you admired the other day, and carry a larger variety of local wares. Ceramics, weavings, leather goods, clothing, those sort of items.”
“I don’t know much about retail but you seem to be good at it.” He watched her face brighten from the compliment and something in his chest tightened.
“Thank you.” She reached over and touched his injured leg where the skin had turned bright red from the ice. Even through the numbness he could feel the warmth of her hand. “Is it alleviating the pain?”
He couldn’t help himself and laid his hand over hers. “Yep.”
That’s when, despite all the warning bells going off in his head, he leaned in to kiss her. Feather soft at first. Then deeper—going from melding lips to tangling tongues. She felt and tasted amazing, like warmth and comfort and hot sex. And he wanted more. Just a little bit, he promised himself. But when he pushed her against the back of the couch it was no-holds-barred and he devoured her like a man who’d waited a lifetime for this. She banded her arms around his neck, pressed against him until he felt every sexy curve of her body, and made sweet whimpering noises that drove him crazy.
The alarm signals continued, reaching a piercing level that screamed, “Knock it off, now!” Yet, instead of stopping, he changed the angle of the kiss, letting his hands roam over her sweater. She inched under his shirt and he hissed in a breath when her small hands grazed the skin right above the elastic waist of his shorts.
Somewhere in the distance he heard the snick of a lock and a door open and close. Hannah must’ve heard it too because they pulled apart at the same time and looked up to see TJ standing near them, grinning like a loon.
“I forgot my charger,” he said, and didn’t even have the good grace to go in his office and get it. No, he just continued to loiter with that big sloppy smile on his face.
Josh planned to wipe it off with his fist.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Hannah hit the Morning Glory Diner early, hoping to run into Josh during his coffee run. After the Kiss Interruptus, he’d gotten a little squirrelly and she just wanted to clear the air. No harm, no foul, but secretly she’d been living off that kiss for the last thirteen hours. Reliving it in her head and in her sleep a hundred times over. Because, boy, could Josh make her feel things that questioned her sanity. Her life had become so much easier post-Chip. It would be masochistic of her to get romantically involved with yet another man who had more baggage than a Greyhound bus. Being his “sponsor” until the Royal Slope run would be emotional enough.