by Kara Isaac
“Josh and I, we drive each other nuts. I spend more of my time wanting to smack him than anything else. And he has never taken back saying that he doesn’t think I’m of fit character to work for his mom.”
Kat raised an eyebrow. “I know. It’s very Ten Things I Hate About You.”
Which would be fine if she was Julia Stiles. But her life wasn’t a romcom and there was no wannabe Heath Ledger in sight. “Kat, I wasted six years on a guy who had a life where I was never going to fit. I can’t do that again.”
Eighteen
You have a thing for Josh. A week later, her cousin’s statement still vibrated in Paige’s head.
Sure, close working quarters had forced them to find a way to coexist, which, at some point, had turned into having a grudging respect for him. But a thing she did not have. Couldn’t have.
She’d simply glimpsed beneath his arrogant exterior and discovered he wasn’t the insufferable Christian megastar she’d pegged him as. But it still drove her nuts how he couldn’t let go of the smallest of details or delegate anything. At least today was Friday—his day off—so she’d be able to get some work done without him second-guessing everything.
Paige turned her attention back to the spreadsheet in front of her, tracing her color-coded columns that tracked what equipment was going where, when, and by what mode of transport.
“A latte for the lady.” And in he strode, setting a takeout cup on her desk.
Josh hadn’t shaved, his hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and he was wearing a rumpled hoodie and old jeans. It reminded her of the first time they’d met.
She took a swig of the coffee. Ah. He even remembered the half a sugar. “What are you doing here?”
“Forgot to print out a couple of song sheets for Sunday. I’ll only be a few minutes. Why?” He spun her chair around, towering over her with mischievous eyes. “Am I messing up your day? Destroying your Zen?”
She hid her smile behind her cup. “Something like that.”
Josh grinned. “Sorry, princess. I’ll be out of your hair superfast.” He turned and slid into his chair, hit a few keys to log into his Mac. “By the way have you—”
Paige breathed in the earthy scent of her coffee. “If you ask me one more time if I’ve sorted out everyone’s dietary requirements, I’m going to throw my shoe at you.” She had a whole spreadsheet detailing everyone’s allergies, intolerances, trendy diets—as the case may be.
He glanced back over his shoulder. “Spoken like someone who’s never been stuck in a plane for fourteen hours with someone who didn’t get their special meal.”
Paige twirled her pen between her fingers. “People with real food allergies don’t usually trust airlines to get their meals right.”
“That’s not very loving.”
“I ran out of love in the twenty-seventh minute of my conversation with the airline representative about who was dairy-free, nut-free, gluten-free, vegetarian, vegan, carb-free, and legume-free.”
Josh spun around, scooted his chair closer and leaned in, stormy-grey eyes fixed on her. “Paige.” He said her name like a caress and took her hand.
Her breath caught. “Yes?”
“Would now be a good time to tell you I’m going paleo?”
She yanked her hand back and pointed to the door. “Out! Out! Out! Out!”
He grinned and shuffled back. “You can’t kick a guy out of his own office.”
“Watch me.” She grabbed up her container of pens and started pelting his back with them as he shook with laughter.
Her missiles bounced off and clattered to the floor as she ran out of ammo far too quickly. She was off her chair, trying to gather some backup, when he spun around and started pelting her with marbles.
“Ouch!”
The hard spheres rained down around her. She scrambled under the desk, seeking a shield from the onslaught and grabbed whatever she could get her hands on to throw back from her disadvantaged position.
Bad move.
Ethan had taught her never to give up the high ground when she was, like, seven. Now she was being pelted as though she’d gone for a run in a hail storm. She dove further into the corner of her desk, trying to sweep his spent ammunition out of his reach.
A resounding rip echoed through the room.
She froze. Oh no. Surely not. Maybe her jeans were a little on the snug side now, but surely not so much as to . . . her fingers reached back, searching along seams.
Yes, there it was. A brand-new air vent, about four inches long, running right up the back seam of her Levi’s.
Her fingers felt the flimsy material now revealed to the world and she stifled a groan. She hadn’t done laundry for awhile and her morning hunt for clean underwear had seen her resort to a pair of threadbare floral granny panties.
The onslaught had stopped. Josh’s feet inched closer, stopping near the edge of her desk. His face appeared a second later.
“Did you just split something?” His mouth wobbled.
“I have no comment.” Paige shrank back into the corner. How was it possible? Every time. Every time something embarrassing happened, he was there to witness it.
A hand appeared. “C’mon. I won’t look. I promise.” She stared up at him. He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“It’s three.” The correction was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
“Three what?”
“It’s three fingers for Scouts. Two for cub scouts.” Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? Now she sounded like a pedantic priss.
Josh shook his head as he reached his hand back down to her. “You know this why?”
She shrugged. “I remember random things like that. Details are my job.” She curled her fingers in his, letting him help her up as she kept her rear facing her computer screen.
The floor of the office was littered with marbles, pens, and assorted stationery. Paige reached for the sweater draped over the back of her chair, and made quick work of tying it around her waist.
“You okay?” Josh frowned, studied her face with a concerned expression.
She bit her lip, but it couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping, followed by a more unrestrained one. “What is it with you?”
His eyebrows rose. “What?”
“How are you always here for my most humiliating moments? Can’t count my change. You’re there. Can’t stay on my feet. You’re there. Turn my cupcakes into carcinogenic rocks. You’re there. Split my pants. You’re there. It’s like you jinx me.”
His mouth angled into a slow smile that threatened to melt her faster than the Wicked Witch of the West. He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, sending tingles down the side of her face. “Or maybe I’m just lucky.”
Wow, he was close. Too close. Her body hummed with awareness.
Space. Self-preservation demanded space. But she had nowhere to go. She was already backed up against her desk.
His grey eyes flickered as they studied her.
A cough sounded from the doorway, sending Josh jumping back.
Emotion surged through her, she just had no idea whether it was disappointment or relief. A whole continuum of feelings seemed tangled up inside her.
Connor stood there, leaning against the frame, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. “You about ready?”
Josh ran a hand through his hair, turned toward his computer, then turned back again. “Yup. Just got to grab the sheets off the printer and I’ll be done.”
Connor stepped aside as Josh hurtled out the door, his footsteps echoing down the hall. “I’m glad I caught you here too.”
“Oh?” What had just happened?
“We were supposed to be going to this missions fundraising ball tonight, but one of the kids is sick so Amanda can’t go. She’s tasked me with finding someone to take her ticket. You keen?”
“What? How much?” Her mind was struggling to process.
“No, just take it. We don’t want the ticke
t to go to waste. There’s a whole table of us going. About ten, I think.”
“Um . . .” Did she have any plans tonight? She had no idea. “Sure, sounds great.”
“Great.” Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim rectangular card, placing it on the corner of her desk.
Josh walked back into the room, shuffling pages, not even looking at her. He didn’t even bother to shut down his computer, just stabbed the button on the monitor.
He turned around and cleared his throat. “Okay, well, have a good weekend. See you next week.”
“You too.” Everything was buzzing. She had to get a grip. She was not going to become another simpering Josh Tyler groupie. Not ever.
Nineteen
Josh pulled at his bow tie and looked around the large ballroom. He hated these events. He couldn’t believe he’d been roped into it again. Last year he’d sworn it was the last time. But his mother had come home with tickets for the entire family and that was it. No arguing. No already-made-other-plans. Team Tyler, all starched up and on parade.
He’d make a note of next year’s date and ensure he was in a country far away. At least this year all the band had contributed was some signed merchandise.
Last year it had been access for four people to spend half a day in the studio as they recorded their album. Never, ever again. Some wealthy father had bought it as a sixteenth birthday present for his daughter. She’d shown up with three giggly friends. There was nothing more off-putting than trying to record a worship album while four teenage girls ogled you.
Oh, wait. Yes, there was—one of them screaming “Marry me, Josh!” as they left, her friend’s iPhone videoing the moment, ensuring it was captured for all eternity.
Sarah sidled up beside him, looking as happy to be here as he was. She owned one black formal gown from her Year 12 ball. And every year she proclaimed it was timeless and dusted it off. Lucky girl. This penguin suit had cost him the better part of a hundred bucks to rent. He should just bite the bullet and go buy one.
“How early do you think we can escape without Mum getting annoyed?” Sarah gave the front of her strapless dress a tug.
He looked at his watch. Eight eighteen. How had he only been here for twenty minutes? “Ten. At the earliest.”
All he wanted to do was go home, put his feet up, and play some mindless Xbox game. Preferably one involving a lot of guns. The moment with Paige had left him shaken all day. Connor had wiped the court with him at squash because he couldn’t get his head in the game.
He had replayed the moment all day, trying to work out what he was thinking. Would he have kissed her if Connor hadn’t showed up? He had no idea. At least his brother-in-law had been kind enough to leave him stewing in his own funk instead of bringing it up.
Speaking of, there he was, all tuxed up, looking completely at ease. “I’m hungry. What time is the food up?”
“I think the program has everyone seated at eight-thirty.” Josh looked around for his older sister. The only one of the three of them who didn’t mind these things. “Where’s Amanda?”
“Not coming. Mason’s sick.”
“Two dinners for you then.” Lucky guy. This fundraiser always served good steak.
“Nah, we gave her ticket away.”
“To who?” Out of the ten seats at the table, his immediate family would have taken six. His Uncle Phil, Aunt Jenny, cousin Lucy, and her husband Colin filled the remaining four. Who had Connor decided would be able to manage the Tylers en masse?
Connor let out a low whistle and pointed. “To her.”
Josh glanced over. Almost got whiplash looking again. So that was why his brother-in-law hadn’t said anything all day. The joke was on him. “You didn’t.”
“What?” Connor looked at him with wide innocent eyes.
“Don’t what me.”
Connor clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider it my apology for whatever it was I interrupted this morning.”
Paige cut through the last of the crowd that was between them. Approached the other side of their table. He couldn’t breathe. She wore a strapless, green-blue dress that clung to her curves like a wetsuit. Her hair spilled in loose waves past her shoulders.
She looked . . . he couldn’t find a word for it. His brain was buzzing like it had short circuited.
“Easy, buddy.” Connor leaned in. “You look like you’re about to swallow your own tongue.”
He didn’t know this girl. This ethereal luminescent creature. He tried to remind himself she was the same person he’d spent all week with. Who’d split her jeans this morning. Who got drunk and vomited on her own shoes.
She’d approached Sarah and they were chatting, laughing on the other side of the table. Pointing at Connor, she flashed him a smile. Her gaze flickered toward him for a second before moving away again.
Sarah gestured to a seat between her and Lucy, and Paige put her sparkly purse down between the sparkling silverware. He ignored the stab that went through him. It was a good seat for her. The last thing he wanted was her beside him, forcing them to make awkward conversation through two hours of dinner.
“Okay, time to stop staring. It’s getting a little creepy.” Connor tugged at his elbow, forcing him to look away.
“What?”
Connor sized him up with knowing eyes. “Dude, you have it bad. When did this happen?”
“When did what happen?” He grabbed a glass of orange juice from a passing waiter and took a gulp.
Connor rolled his eyes. “When did you take a tumble for Paige?”
Josh flinched. His parents had just joined the table. Thank goodness the buzz of a couple of hundred other people talking meant that they didn’t seem to hear the question. “I haven’t done any such thing.”
“Yeah, because that’s exactly how you were looking at her.”
“I just . . . I was just surprised. She scrubs up well.” He tugged at his collar. For the love, would someone please open some windows and get some air in this room?
Connor rolled his eyes. “Just don’t mess it up.”
“There’s nothing to mess up.” His instincts when it came to women stank. Both his serious relationships had ended up putting his family through hell. He couldn’t lose sight of that.
“Okay, I know that you still carry some relationship baggage, but seriously. It’s been years. Paige is a great girl. And you can tell yourself whatever you like, but the rest of us can see the chemistry from here to the Blue Mountains.” He glanced over Josh’s shoulder. “Including at least one person who won’t be happy about it.”
Before he could ask Connor what he meant, a screech echoed across the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you could please take your seats, it’s time to get the evening underway.”
Josh grabbed the nearest seat and found himself between Connor and his mother. Paige sat directly across from him, glittering.
It was going to be a long night.
Paige pushed the remains of her plate of chicken away, half-eaten. Kat’s dress fit tighter than an Olympic gymnast’s leotard, and she could almost feel the seams bursting with every move. Just like her traitorous jeans.
Sarah and Grace had made for entertaining seatmates, but she’d been off her game the entire evening. Every time she looked across the table, she’d found Josh staring at her, studying her, like he was a lab technician examining a strain of drug-resistant bacteria.
She’d spent half the night looking down, wondering if her dress had slipped, if she’d poured gravy down her front. But she never saw anything amiss. Maybe the tux was doing it. She’d seen him tug at his bowtie a few times like it was strangling him. She couldn’t blame him. As good as he looked tonight, she preferred the more relaxed version, the look that had almost undone her this morning.
Paige stifled a yawn as the auctioneer’s voice droned on in the background. She’d wasted half the day imagining what might have happened if Connor hadn’t showed up. Would he have kissed her? Would she have kissed him b
ack if he did? Then what? Which left her where, doomed to repeat her mistake with Alex and still falling for the guy who was all wrong for her?
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now reaching the end of our auction this evening. And, as per usual, we have saved the best for last. The kinds of experiences that money can’t usually buy. Remember, all funds raised in the auction tonight will go toward combating human trafficking in Southeast Asia, so be generous.”
Thank goodness for Destiny Rescue there were a lot of people in the room with far healthier bank accounts than hers. She’d planned to bid for something since she hadn’t had to pay for dinner but even the starting prices were beyond her means.
A plate with a piece of fancy-looking cheesecake landed in front of her. Surely her dress would allow a few teeny-tiny bites.
The first item was up—some holiday on a coast somewhere. She settled back and reached for her glass of water. Paddles went up at tables and bidding progressed. At least it looked like this round would move a bit faster than the others. And sold.
“And now our next item. Highly anticipated, I’m advised. A date with one of Australia’s most eligible bachelors—Josh Tyler, worship leader of Due North.”
What? The rest of the auctioneer’s spiel was wiped away by the surprise rocketing around in her head.
Across the table, liquid sprayed from Josh’s mouth, and he doubled over, coughing, Connor whacking him on the back.
“Oh, she didn’t.” Sarah reached over and grabbed the program out of Paige’s hands. She opened it up and started laughing. “Oh Lord, she did.”
“Who?”
Sarah pointed across the table to where her mother wore an expression that was half pride, half fear. “Guess.” Beside Janine, Greg was leaning in, whispering something and she offered a partial shrug in response.
The poor guy.
“Ladies, shall we start the bidding at a hundred?”
“Two hundred.” A paddle shot up at a table nearby. Heads rotated to see who it was. From Paige’s vantage point, it looked like a woman around forty, in a sparkling dress.