by Holly Jacobs
“Not if I can help it.” Lagging farther and farther behind Meg, she stopped. “Listen, Josh, you’re a nice guy, but I’m not looking for any guy, not even a nice one.”
“I thought I was…what was the word? Arrogant?”
“Oh, you are, but you’re also nice,” Libby admitted grudgingly. “We agreed we’d just be friends.”
Slowly Josh shook his head. “No, as I recall, you suggested it and I didn’t fight it.”
“Which is the same as agreeing.” She took back the nice part. Josh was an arrogant, annoying man.
“In what court of law?”
“Mine. The only one that matters in this instance.”
“Listen, Libby, you’re not looking for a relationship. You’ve made that clear. I’m not, either. I just walked away from a marriage and I haven’t even begun to figure out why it failed.”
“You’re divorced?” The question slipped out, and Libby wished it could slip right back in. Why did the thought of Josh and someone else disturb her so much? She didn’t want him to read anything into the question. “Never mind, it’s none of my business.”
“Maybe it’s not, but I’ll answer anyway. Yes, I’m divorced. The marriage was over a long time before the papers were actually signed. Toward the end, it was more business than anything else. And like you, I’m not looking for a new relationship.”
“But the kiss?” she asked.
“That’s just it—it was just a kiss, Libby. I didn’t pledge my undying love. Neither did you.”
“So the kiss was just a momentary lapse of judgment on your part, too?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it a lapse in judgment, but a kiss isn’t a relationship. Two adults can kiss and be friends, Libby.”
Meg was in line, waving wildly. Josh and Libby hurried to catch up.
“And they can be friends and avoid the kissing,” she argued.
“If I try to avoid the kissing, can we try to get back to trying to be friends?”
“No kissing?”
He shook his head. “So, we’re okay?”
“We’re okay. And since you’re going to be busy playing a game, I guess I could even ask you to stay for Thanksgiving leftovers for dinner.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“Neither did I,” she admitted softly.
As she watched him in line with her daughter, grinning as they unloaded the gifts from the overflowing cart, Libby’s fingers lightly brushed her lips. Their kiss was just a momentary fluke, not to be repeated. It had been a kiss, just a kiss, not a lifelong commitment. What had she been worried about? She should be relieved that Josh had agreed no more kissing.
So why was it that she wasn’t?
“The video game is separate from the rest of the toys,” Josh told the cashier as they reached the front of the line.
“No problem,” the woman said, scanning the video game’s bar code. “That’s $45.72.”
Before Libby could sign for Meg, Josh had simply held up the appropriate fingers for her. Libby could have told him that numbers in A.S.L. were slightly different than the way the general population made numbers on their fingers. A seven was the ring finger held against the thumb on one hand, rather than five fingers on one hand and two on the other. She could have told him that this allowed people signing to make any number on just one hand.
But she didn’t say a word, because watching Josh interact so casually with Meg was causing something in her chest to constrict in a most unusual fashion.
After the cashier had handed Meg her change, Libby started loading the rest of the toys onto the belt, watching them slide to the scanner, which beeped merrily.
“I’m glad I’m not paying this bill,” Josh joked.
Libby was about to agree when the cashier teased, “These aren’t all for your little girl?”
“We’re not—I mean, Meg’s my little girl, but he’s just a…”
“A what, Libby?” Josh asked quietly.
“A friend,” she filled in.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the cashier said, and then fell silent as she ran myriad toys through the scanner.
Libby wasn’t sure if the cashier was sorry she’d made the mistake, or sorry that Libby and Josh weren’t anything more than friends.
The look her friend shot at her wasn’t very comforting. When the bill was paid and he pushed the overflowing cart out the door, he seemed almost angry.
“Is something wrong?” Libby asked.
“You tell me,” was his curt retort.
“I’m sorry if the clerk thinking we were a family made you angry. It wasn’t as if I had any control over what she thought.”
“It wasn’t what the clerk said, Libby.”
“Then what?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s get these all in the truck and get them back to your house.”
The ride home from the mall might have been awkward if Meg hadn’t kept up a happy stream of chatter, chatter Libby dutifully repeated for Josh’s benefit.
“And Kari didn’t have her homework done again, so Ms. Ross sent home a note. I never get notes because I always do my homework. And Ms. Ross said I should tell you Mercyhurst Prep is having a Christmas party for hearing-impaired kids again this year. I’m invited. The paper’s in my book bag.”
“Do you want to go?” Libby asked, still speaking out loud so Josh felt as if he was part of the conversation. She’d spent so many years making sure Meg felt connected, that making sure Josh was part of things was second nature.
“Sure,” Meg said enthusiastically. “They have cookies and it’s fun to talk to the kids. The high school kids sign slow, but they try real hard.”
“Okay.”
“Why does the high school have a party?” Josh asked.
“They have wonderful Sign Language classes and a Sign club. The club has special events for the hearing-impaired community, a way for the Mercyhurst students to get to try their signing in real-life situations. They even run a summer day camp for the kids. It’s a nice program. Meg and a lot of her friends go, though the kids running the program change every year.”
“We’re allowed to bring someone to the party,” Meg said.
“I know. I went last year, remember?”
“Maybe this year Josh would like to go with me.” Libby repeated Meg’s words without even realizing her daughter was inviting Josh until the words were out of her mouth.
“Meg wants me to go?” Josh asked.
Libby ignored his question and signed to Meg without repeating the words. “That’s rude to put Josh on the spot. He doesn’t sign and it might be uncomfortable for him to be surrounded by people he can’t talk to.”
“Some of the Mercyhurst kids aren’t great at signing, but some are real good and they can interpret. He’s not uncomfortable with me, even if he doesn’t sign. He helped me with my homework and is good at video games, for an old guy.”
“Aren’t you the one who didn’t want me to date him?” Libby signed, but didn’t repeat out loud.
“Most of the guys you’ve dated don’t like me.”
“I never date them long enough for them to know you—”
“You don’t date them because they don’t like me. I make them uncomfortable.” Meg paused a moment, then added, “Josh was uncomfortable that first night, but he’s not now. He sees me, Mom. He doesn’t see a deaf girl.”
“You’re more than that.”
Meg nodded. “We know that, but not everyone else does.”
It broke Libby’s heart that her daughter sounded so much older than any ten-year-old should. She tried to protect her, but Meg was too perceptive not to notice how people reacted to her.
“Ask him,” Meg said.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Libby insisted.
“Please. Ask him.”
“Josh, I’m sorry. We both realize that spending a day off with a bunch of Christmas-hyper kids isn’t your idea of a day off.”
“I’d l
ove to.” Josh didn’t even glance her way, but kept his gaze glued to the road. He was polite enough not to mention the entire conversation he’d been left out of.
“Really, you don’t have to—”
“I don’t have to do anything, Libby. Like I said when I agreed to plan this party with you, I haven’t yet reconnected with anyone in town. It would be fun to get out with a bunch of Christmas-hyper kids.”
“Josh—”
“I like kids. It was just one of the hurdles in my marriage. I liked kids, wanted them, but my wife—my ex-wife—didn’t want them.”
“I’m sorry.”
He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her as he said, “So am I. Spending time with Meg has reminded me of how much I’ve missed out on.”
“But that doesn’t mean you have to go to this party with her.”
“I want to. Unless you have a problem with me taking Meg. I realize we haven’t known each other very long and you might not be comfortable—”
“That’s not it.”
No, Libby trusted Josh with Meg. Maybe there was no rational reason for that trust, but it was there. He’d never do anything intentional to hurt her daughter. But it was the unintentional pain that worried her. When the Christmas party was over and he walked out of their lives, Meg could be hurt. She tried to explain that to Josh. “It’s just—”
“Just what?”
“Just that Meg and I are used to doing things on our own. I don’t want her to come to count on you being around when in reality as soon as Christmas is over, you won’t be.”
“We may not have a party to plan then, but we’ll still be neighbors.” He pulled into their driveway and cut the engine. He looked at Libby, looked at her with an intensity that stole her breath. “Just tell her I’d love to go, Libby.” Her name on his lips was like a caress, intimate and tender.
“He said yes,” Libby signed.
Meg didn’t say a word, just turned and hugged Josh. Libby crawled out of the truck and handed a couple bags from the back to Meg, who trotted up the sidewalk.
“I guess that means she’s happy,” Josh said.
“Yes, she is.” Libby could see how attached Meg was getting to Josh. What would happen when he left? And he would leave. Of that she had no doubt.
“Libby, what’s this really about? I don’t think it’s Meg.”
“It is all about Meg, everything I do is about Meg. Becoming attached to you is a mistake. You’re here now, playing the benevolent friend, but you’ll be gone soon, and I’ll be left to pick up the pieces.” She grabbed a bag and marched into the house.
Josh trailed after her. No matter what Libby said, he didn’t believe it was his friendship with Meg that was bothering her, worried that sooner or later he’d hurt Meg. No, Josh was pretty sure that it was Libby just waiting for him to hurt her.
That’s why she reacted too strongly to his kiss, to his attempted follow-up kiss. She was afraid.
Dammit, didn’t she see that he was afraid, too? He was just beginning to feel whole and healthy. He’d moved on, picked up the pieces of his life, packed up his practice and moved on. He was thirty-eight, dangerously close to forty, and trying to build a new life for himself. Becoming involved with anyone right now wasn’t in his game plan.
And yet, every time Libby’s blue eyes gazed at him, all his plans fell away and all that was left was the certainty that he wanted to know this woman better.
He wanted to know the woman who had managed to run her business and care for her daughter so competently. A woman who could crackle with anger over a bad parking job, and forgive just as easily. A woman who seemed to collect lonely people, and who with a simple smile, could make them feel as if they were part of something, as if they weren’t alone anymore.
Libby might not understand it yet, but he wasn’t about to walk away from the woman whose kisses awoke feelings in him that he thought had died long ago.
Maybe these feelings were what was missing between him and Lynn. He’d thought they had a good relationship, a companionable one full of shared interests and goals. But he couldn’t remember the last time one of their kisses had affected him the way Libby’s had.
He reached the truck and took out the last bag.
“That’s it,” he said, carrying it back to the spare room Libby was using as the Christmas party storage space.
Meg’s hands gyrated, and Libby sighed.
“What?” Josh asked.
“She wants you to come try out the game.”
“And what do you want?” he asked softly.
“Oh, go play the game and I’ll start dinner.” She signed at Meg.
Libby started toward the kitchen, but Josh reached out and took her wrist, stopping her. “The invitation still stands?”
She jerked herself free from his grip. “I guess.”
“Oh, Libby, you really shouldn’t be so enthusiastic. Of course I’ll stay for dinner. Heck, I’ll even do dishes. Tell Meg she has to help.”
Libby dutifully signed, and Meg, the same child who complained about any household assignment, said, “Sure, I’ll help Josh.” Meg grabbed Josh’s hand and dragged him toward her room and the game.
Libby watched them go down the hall, her heart aching. Meg was getting too attached to the man, after only a few visits. How would Meg feel when he was no longer around?
She opened the cupboard and took out dishes. Leftovers required no cooking, so all she had to do was set the table, and take out the leftovers. If Meg or Josh wanted something hot, they could nuke it.
She automatically pulled out three plates. Three. Having Josh at her table was becoming a regular thing. She couldn’t allow that to continue. She’d told Josh they could be friends, and maybe they could, but she didn’t plan to let this particular friend move in and start messing with her daughter, because Meg would be hurt when he was no longer there.
And as she told Josh earlier, Libby would be left to pick up the pieces.
“Damn,” she swore as she dropped a plate. The pieces lay shattered at her feet and she knelt to pick them up. Yes, when Josh left, she’d be doing this all over again. Only, instead of some dinner plate, she’d be picking up a little girl who was desperate to have a man in her life.
Josh came skidding into the kitchen. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Libby didn’t look up from the floor, just continued to pick up the pieces as she said, “I can handle a broken plate, Josh.”
She rose and threw the pieces in the trash and finally glanced at Josh, who hadn’t said a thing. “What?”
“You’re beautiful when you’re annoyed.”
“Damn it, Gardner, cut that out. You keep promising to back off, and then here you are, giving me those goo-goo eyes again.”
“Goo-goo eyes?”
“You know, the way your eyes go all dark and intense and I just know you’re thinking about kissing me, and I don’t want you to think about kissing me.”
“Why are my thoughts a concern, Libby?”
“Because when you’re thinking them, I can’t help but think them, too, and kissing you isn’t what I had in mind.”
“Even if I promise that all I want from you is a kiss?”
“Josh,” she warned.
“Even if I tell you that I keep promising myself I won’t think about kissing you anymore, and then you get annoyed and turn all gorgeous in your righteous anger and all I can think of is kissing you until your mind goes numb and you forget why you’re annoyed?”
“Josh,” she warned again, softer this time.
“You don’t want to kiss me, and I sure as hell don’t want to want to kiss you, and yet, like I said before, there it is, that kiss just standing there between us, waiting to be had. Maybe if we just kiss, we’ll go on with our night and not think about it anymore.”
“I don’t think that’s much of a plan.”
“To be honest, neither do I, but I don’t have a better one. Just one small kiss, Libby.”
“But—” She started to argue, but she was interrupted by his lips finding hers. Kissing Joshua Gardner was addictive. Libby just wanted to fill herself with him, tasting, touching, learning. There was so much to learn about this man.
Josh broke off the kiss and gave a small whistle of appreciation. “I think we need to clear the air.”
Libby whirled around, turning her attention to taking the leftovers from the fridge and popping the lids off the containers. “I think you need to clear out of my kitchen,” she muttered.
Lightly Josh rested his hand on her shoulder. “I like you, and I think you like me—”
“Some of the time.”
“And I think we both enjoy kissing. Neither of us is looking for a long-term relationship, but maybe that’s a good thing.”
She dropped the lids in a pile and turned to face him. “A good thing?”
“We’re both going into this with realistic expectations. We like each other. I don’t think you can deny that if you’re honest. So, let’s stop this kiss-and-run nonsense. We’re adults, Libby. Let’s just agree up front that we’re attracted to each other, and stop making such a big deal out of it.”
“But what about Meg? She could get hurt—”
“Do you really think I’d do anything to hurt Meg? I like her. She’s a bright, cute kid, and if I’d had a daughter, I’d want her to be just like Meg. We’ve played some video games together and I’m taking her to a party. That’s it. She understands that. Why don’t you?”
“But you might hurt her when you leave,” Libby whispered, voicing her deepest fear. One man had already walked out on Meg, and Libby wasn’t about to let another come into their…Meg’s life and do it again.
“Libby, life is full of people coming and going, but I’m not going anywhere. I just opened my office, and I plan on staying. So even if you and I get over our kissing-fests, I’ll still make time for Meg. That’s one promise I have no trouble making.”
Libby had more arguments, she was sure she did, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember one. “I…” She started then stopped.
“Oh, hell,” she muttered as she catapulted herself back into his arms and kissed the socks off him.