Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Fox

It was the fourth time I’d walked into the second-floor guest room this morning. I doubted I’d come in that many times over the last year. But the scenery from the window had recently changed, and it was pretty damn easy on the eyes. I had a bird’s-eye view of the yard next door, where Josie was currently stretched out on a yoga mat, ass up, in what I thought might be called downward dog.

I sipped my coffee as I watched, feeling a bit like a dog myself. Yet I couldn’t pry myself away. A few minutes later, though, it seemed the show was coming to an end. Josie rolled up the mat and disappeared inside. I had a shitload of things to get done today, and wasting time watching Little Miss Yoga Pants wasn’t one of them. So I took a quick shower, grabbed my to-do list from the kitchen table, and headed out. But the pickup truck parked at the curb stopped me in my tracks after only a few steps.

Fucking Porter.What the hell was he doing over there?

And why did I suddenly feel a need to break something?

I mentally added another item to my to-do list: Get my ass over to the rink and whack some pucks with a stick. It was either that or get laid, and I wasn’t much in the mood for what came before and after getting laid, namely polite conversation.

I stood on the porch for a few minutes, struggling to stop myself from going next door. There were a million reasons not to.

Shit to do.

Not interested—well, at least my head wasn’t. My dick seemed eager enough.

Punching an employee was frowned upon. Though he wasn’t at work at the moment…

I stared at my truck, trying to get my feet to walk toward it. But the fuckers wouldn’t budge.

Then I heard a laugh, a feminine one that floated through the air and did things inside my chest that I didn’t care for one bit. It was like someone had turned the heat up on the blood flowing through my veins. Warmth seeped into my upper body, giving me the sensation of being tucked under a flannel blanket next to a fire.

I shook the thought from my head. Seriously. What the fuck has come over me?

Pissed at myself, I forced one foot in front of the other and managed to climb into my truck and back out of the driveway.

Don’t look. Don’t look.

I gave myself a much-needed pep talk as I shifted the pickup into drive. But as I rolled past her mailbox, about to pass the big bay window, I realized I’d made a rookie mistake. I should’ve gone the other way. Because there was no way in hell I could stop myself from looking.

Porter’s smiling face had me slamming on the brakes and pulling to the curb so fast that I completely forgot the mailbox. I hit it with a loud bang.

Fuck my life.

I got out of the car and walked around to the side. My truck had a decent dent on the rear quarter panel, and the mailbox was on the ground. Worse, Josie was on her way out with Porter in tow.

“Are you okay?” Her face displayed genuine concern.

“Yeah,” I grumbled. “I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“I, uh, forgot something at the house. Went to turn around and missed the mailbox.”

Josie’s pink lips curved to a gloating smile. “It seems I’m not the only one capable of failing to see a bright red mail receptacle.”

I frowned. “You could at least pretend you’re not enjoying this.”

Her smile widened. “Who, me? I’m not enjoying anything.”

I’d somehow managed to forget all about the man standing behind her. Wishful thinking, I suppose. But once I noticed the smirk on his face, that’s where I drew the line. I pointed to his mouth. “You, I’m not going to tolerate the smile from.”

The fucker chuckled.

“What are you doing here anyway?” I snarled.

“Came by to drop off an easel for Josie.”

“Where is it?”

Porter thumbed toward the house. “Inside.”

“Then why are you still on my block? It’s bad enough I have to see you all week.”

The dumb-shit’s smile widened. Was he really enjoying my insults, because I had plenty to hurl his way if he wanted…

“Josie invited me to stay for coffee.”

I looked over at her. “Better watch it. I hired him for a set of extra hands on a job three years ago. I can’t get him to stop coming back.”

She shook her head with a smile. “Would you like to join us for coffee, too, Fox?”

While I hated the thought of the two of them alone together, I hated myself more for the way I’d been acting this morning. So I begrudgingly declined. “Got shit to do.”

I turned to get back into my car, realizing I still had the mailbox in my hand. Scowling, I held it up without looking back. “I’ll pick up one of these, too.”

The rest of the morning I spent stewing while running errands. I went to get my oil changed, hit the nursery to pick up tomato plants I was late getting into the ground, stopped at the grocery store, and then went to the home-improvement store for a new showerhead to replace my leaky one. While I was there, I ordered Josie a new mailbox and stopped over in the decking section to get some prices for her rotted deck. I was gone more than three hours, so I didn’t expect to see Porter’s truck when I returned. Unfortunately for me, that wasn’t the only thing I saw.

“What the hell are you doing?” I cut across my grass and met a shirtless Porter at the end of Josie’s driveway. He tossed a pile of wood at the curb and wiped sweat from his forehead.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? Getting rid of that rotted deck out back.”

“But why?”

He shrugged. “I saw the ACE bandage around Josie’s ankle, and she told me what happened the other night. I offered to give her a hand.”

I had no right to feel territorial, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to shove Porter into his car and finish the job myself.

“She’s not one of your fuck buddies, Porter. You should leave her alone.”

“I thought you weren’t into her?”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m not. But she’s been through a lot. She doesn’t need a Porter Tobey hump-and-dump special right now.”

“It’s not like that. I like her.”

I clenched my jaw so hard, I was surprised I didn’t break a tooth. “Let me unload my truck and I’ll give you a hand.” Translation: The sooner it’s finished, the sooner you’re out of here.

“It’s fine. I’m almost halfway done.”

“I’ll be over in a few.”

I tossed the bags from the trunk in the house and quickly changed into some work clothes. Unlike lover boy, I wasn’t going to be stupid and carry planks of wood wearing shorts, no shirt, and a pair of fucking flip-flops.

Next door, it appeared I was the only one who’d changed to do some work. Josie was still in the skin-tight yoga getup she’d been wearing early this morning. The only thing she’d changed was adding a pair of work gloves. I frowned, not because I didn’t appreciate the outfit, but because I wasn’t the only one doing the appreciating. Josie bent to pull up a plank, and Porter’s eyes followed. I cleared my throat to give him the courtesy of knowing I was coming. He was lucky he got a warning and it wasn’t my fist.

Josie leaned back, holding onto the plank, putting her weight behind it to try to pull the board up. I shook my head and went behind her.

“What do you think is going to happen when this comes up or snaps in half with you leaning like this?”

“I think there’s going to be one less piece of rotted wood.”

I pointed to the Adirondack chairs that sat at the edge of the lake. “Go sit.”

“You can’t tell me what to do like that.”

“You hurt your ankle two days ago. You shouldn’t be leaning on it, and definitely not hauling heavy wood out to the curb.” I lifted my chin to Porter. “We’ll finish it up.”

“No, Fox. It’s not that I don’t appreciate all your help, because I do. You’ve been a lifesaver, if I’m being honest. But I don’t like the tone you just spoke to me with.” She tucked her chin and deepened her voice. “Go sit! I’mnot a dog, you know.”

I sighed. Here we go again. “How would you like me to ask, Josie?”

“I don’t know. Just don’t order me to do something. It’s rude.”

I took a deep inhale. “Fine. Why don’t you go sit, and we’ll finish this up so you don’t make your ankle worse?”

She smiled. “That was very nice. But I think I’m good. I don’t need to sit.”

This woman made me nuts. Through the corner of my eye, I caught Porter with a shit-eating grin on his face. It looked like he was about to bust a gut laughing.

“What’s so amusing?” I barked.

“Nothing, boss.” Porter chuckled, but he was smart enough to get back to work, even if he wasn’t technically working at the moment.

Over the next half hour, Porter and I ripped up the rest of the rotted deck and piled it at the curb. Well, technically, Josie hauled a few boards out too. When we were done, we were all sweating.

Josie took off her dirty work gloves and looked around. “You guys make everything seem so easy.”

“This was nothing.” Porter winked. “It keeps me in shape.”

“Oh yeah? This week we have some concrete to break up and haul. I was going to bring a laborer in to help with the carryout. But if you want to keep in shape…”

Josie laughed. “Can I get you guys some lemonade or a beer or something? Maybe some lunch?”

Porter looked at his watch. “I’d love to stay and hang out, but I actually have to run. Can I take a raincheck?”

She smiled. “Of course. Thank you again for everything.”

“I’ll text you. Maybe I can take you out for that beer one night?”

Josie’s eyes briefly shifted to me before she forced a smile. “Umm…sure.”

Porter beamed. Meanwhile, I wondered what would cause more pain, broken fingers or knocked-in teeth. Though he was completely oblivious. He patted my shoulder. “I’ll see you in the morning, boss.”

Good riddance. I managed a nod.

Once the shirtless wonder was gone, Josie looked to me. “What about you? You want a beer or something to eat?”

I shrugged. “I’ll take both.”

She smiled. “Okay. I’m going to wash up and change. Then I’ll make us some sandwiches and drinks. You want to come in and wait?”

“Think I’ll get washed up myself.”

“Okay. How about fifteen minutes? I’ll bring the sandwiches to your deck, since you actually have one?”

“Sounds good.”

I took a quick shower and got changed into shorts and a T-shirt. It was already hot as balls outside, and humidity made the air feel like molasses in the lungs. Usually the lake offered a breeze, but not today.

Out back, Josie floated over from next door wearing some pastel pink getup. She was freshly showered with wet hair slicked back into a ponytail, carrying two Coronas with lime wedges stuffed into the necks in one hand and a plate with sandwiches in the other. The smell of vanilla wafted onto the deck a few feet before her, and yet again, I found my eyes drifting down to her collarbone.

The view was pretty damn spectacular, and I didn’t try to hide my watching.

She grinned as she stepped onto the deck. “Someone looks hungry.”

You have no fucking idea. I took the plate and beer with a thanks and realized as Josie settled into the seat across from me at the table that it was the first time I’d had a woman back here in a long time. The women I did bring home spent most of the time in my bedroom. I wasn’t much on morning-afters, so I usually didn’t do sleepovers either. But I couldn’t say I didn’t like having something pretty to look at as I ate. If I were being honest, her company wasn’t bad either. It was the string that came with getting involved with the type of woman Josie was that I wasn’t much fond of.

“So guess what?” She lifted the beer to her lips.

“What?”

“Noah hasn’t called in two days—not since you threatened to jump out of a bush and crush him like a bug when he least expected it.”

“That’s good.”

“I was thinking about you while I was in the shower.”

I arched a brow. “Oh yeah?”

She chuckled. “Not like that, dirty boy.”

Shame. Because I’ve been thinking about you like that more often than not during my showers lately.

“What were you thinking, then?”

“You’re kind of an enigma. Most men are like Porter. They do nice things for women because they want something in return. But not you. You’re more like Superman. You swoop in when I need help and then disappear for days, turning back into grumpy Clark Kent.”

“Trust me, I’m no hero. But you should be wary of guys who only do something because they want something in return.”

She bit into her sandwich. “You mean guys like Porter? I don’t know. I think if I ruled out men who wanted something, there would be very few left. Porter seems harmless enough, though he’s not really my type.”

I didn’t like that I felt relieved to hear she wasn’t interested in Porter. Nevertheless, I couldn’t stop myself from poking around.

“What is your type?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure I know anymore. I think I’m better at knowing what’s not. Porter is nice enough, but he seems like a player.”

My lip curved. “Good call.”

“What about you? Do you have a type?”

“Yeah. Simple.”

She laughed. “What does that mean, simple? Like a simpleton? Someone who is gullible?”

“No, not a simpleton. Just simple. As in, the opposite of complicated.”

“So a no-strings-attached type deal? That’s your type?”

“I’m not against strings. Just don’t like the kind that tie me up in knots. And so we’re clear, I mean figurative knots. Not the literal ones. Those I wouldn’t mind.”

Josie smiled. “Thanks for the clarification.”

“You’re welcome.”

She looked out at the lake. I watched her face. She’d been enjoying the view but then seemed to think about something else, something less enjoyable.

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

Her brows tugged together. “How did you know I was going to ask you something?”

“You’re not exactly a hard read.”

“Oh really?”

I tilted the neck of my beer to her. “Really.”

She pinched her eyes closed. “What am I thinking about now?”

“Didn’t say I was a damn mind reader. Said I could see on your face when you’re overanalyzing something.”

“I do do that. It can be debilitating at times. In fact, my therapist gave me some tricks to try to stop doing it.”

“What were you overanalyzing right now?”

She pointed to my chair. “Why you’re sitting there.”

“Number one: It’s my house. Number two: I think most people sit when they’re eating.”

“Yes, but why you picked that particular seat. You were out here before me, so you could have sat in this chair or that chair. This chair has a beautiful view of the water. Yet you didn’t sit in it. I was wondering if it’s because that was your regular spot or if you were thoughtful and left me the seat with the best view.”

I stared at her. She was damn beautiful, especially framed by the lake. But the word complicated didn’t begin to describe Josie Preston. The woman had analyzed why I picked a damn chair.

“Well…” she said. “Which is it? Is that your regular chair or did you leave me this one so I’d have the nicer view?”

There was a third possibility she’d failed to consider—that it didn’t matter where I sat because my view was going to be pretty damn great with her across from me. But I wouldn’t be sharing that tidbit.

I shook my head. “Stop overthinking and finish your sandwich.”

We ate the rest in blissful silence, Josie enjoying her view and me stealing glances at mine. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t me who spoke first.

“Do you ever swim in the lake?”

And there went the peace I’d been feeling. “No.”

“Is the water contaminated?”

“Water is fine.”

“Do you not know how to swim?”

“I know how to swim, Josie.”

“Jeez.” Her forehead and nose scrunched up in tandem. “You don’t have to get so cranky. It was just a question.”

“And I gave you an answer. Problem with you is, that’s never enough.”

“Sheesh. I didn’t realize there was a problem with me. Thanks for letting me know.”

She stood and folded her now-empty paper plate. “I can take a hint. Thank you again for all of your help today. And I’m sorry if I’m too chatty for your liking.” She took a few steps away and turned back. “We can keep our friendship limited to you dragging my garbage cans to the curb when I forget. Thank you for doing that again yesterday. Oh, and I guess you watching me from the window while I do yoga. You seem to enjoy that more than talking to me.”