Evan’s blue eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs. He really is cute. Maybe if Josh wasn’t in the picture and everything wasn’t so complicated… I give myself a mental head shake and direct my gaze toward the kitchen.
“Do you think your sister needs help? Josh is useless in the kitchen.” They’d been in there for a while and lord only knows what he’s telling her about me. Plus, I don’t want to run the risk of Evan asking me any more questions about Josh. Or about my and Josh’s “sibling-type” relationship. That straitjacket already has me chafing at the binds.
Without waiting for a reply, I spring to my feet. “Let me go check. The last time Josh offered to help in the kitchen, two plates and a wine glass paid the price.” I leave out the part of the incident about Bree running into him, wrapping her arms around his legs and demanding to be picked up. He’d barely been able to prevent the dishes from falling on her head instead of in the sink.
Evan responds with a dry smile. “Send him out here where there’s carpet and no glass. I wouldn’t mind a beer either.”
“I’ll make sure to send him out with one for you.” I quickly round the corner to the kitchen and pull up short at the sight of Josh and his girlfriend locked in an embrace feet in front of me. Kissing.
I have to beat back a wave of something stomach churning carried in on a green mist. “Oops, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
That in itself is debatable as I make no move to leave. But now the image of Josh with his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat is firmly imprinted on my brain.
The kissing couple aren’t in a hurry to separate, Josh slowly releasing her, his gaze on me.
A happy blush stains Chloe’s cheeks as she steps out from the loose circle of his arms. “Nothing to see here except me showing my appreciation to the best boyfriend in the world,” she chirps.
I clear my throat while thanking God for my strong gag reflexes. “I thought you might need another set of hands. Preferably ones attached to someone who knows her way around the kitchen.” I give Josh a quick side eye, my gaze sliding away the second I see the evidence of their kiss—his mouth stained with her pale-pink lipstick.
Giggling, Chloe drops her hands down to her sides, but not before rubbing her thumb over his mouth to remove the offending smudge of lipstick. A possessive staking her claim gesture that has me fighting off another haze of green momentarily obscuring my vision.
“You heard her, go.” She points to the exit. “I don’t need you now that I have real help. Go keep Evan company until we get things ready. And grab a couple beers from the fridge. If I know my brother, he could use one.”
Took the words right out of my mouth.
Josh follows her instructions to the letter, silently exiting the kitchen with two cans of beer in hand, not once sparing me a glance.
I affix a smile to my face when she returns her attention to me. I mime rolling up sleeves I don’t have and exclaim with a brightness I don’t feel, “Okay, put me to work. What do you need me to do?”
She motions me over to the counter, leans over and whispers conspiratorially, “You can tell me how things are going with my brother. I can tell he likes you a lot.” An anticipatory gleam lights her eyes.
And suddenly, the whole thing doesn’t feel like such a good idea anymore. I like her brother—from the little I know of him—but I certainly don’t want to get her hopes up. Or his either, for that matter. Although I get the impression she’s more invested in this date than he is.
It’s not that I was expecting to feel the same kind of attraction I do towards Josh but it’s impossible to see a star when the sun is out.
“Evan is great. I like him a lot.” Every word of that is the truth.
Looking well and truly pleased with herself, Chloe clasps her hands together in a delighted clap. “I knew it.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” My dry tone strongly suggests she simmer down. “We’re only in the first fifteen minutes of a first date. This may end with us deciding to just be friends.”
A strong possibility. An even stronger one is that we’ll never see each other again.
Chloe is undeterred. “Friendship is the best foundation of any romantic relationship.”
Josh and I have never been friends. Not really. Prior to us sleeping together, our association was intersectional. A product not of our own making but based on Paige and Mitch. The possibility of a romantic relationship between us had been likely doomed from the start.
I force a smile. “Yeah, who knows.” If only optimism were a highly contagious airborne disease and my immune system wasn’t fortified like Fort Knox. “Now put me to work.”
Josh’s girlfriend can cook.
And there’s nothing more vexing than not being able to fully appreciate the most delicious stuffed shells I’ve had since I ate at Maggiano’s while visiting my cousin in Illinois. My taste buds explode at the first bite and then do a happy dance on its way down. It’s all I can do not to weep.
I guess we can now add cooking to a list of things Chloe does better than me, although I am a very good baker. Or so I’ve been told. My baked Alaska is quite the crowd pleaser. Not that I’m keeping score or anything as this isn’t a competition.
Josh wouldn’t know that since I never cooked for him. Our arrangement hadn’t called for that. A bed and a condom was all we ever needed.
Stop!
Stop thinking and eat. And talk to Evan, he is your date for the evening.
“Erin, I can get you something else if you want. I have some leftover three-cheese baked macaroni in the fridge.” Chloe’s eager-to-please personality has her anxiously casting a pointed look at my largely untouched dinner on her pretty white, navy trimmed plate.
“No, this is delicious.” I then redouble my efforts to do it justice while making pains to contribute to the ongoing conversation about the latest blockbuster movie (which we’ve all seen) with Evan speculating whether the sequel that’s coming out next year will be as good.
“Did you see it in an IMAX theater?” Chloe asks me, referring to the movie.
“I have no idea.”
“Josh and I saw it at the one close to the museum.”
They share a look I make no attempt to interpret. As a couple, I’ve had my fill of them enough to last a lifetime. The kiss I interrupted ensured that.
“You haven’t seen it if you haven’t seen it in IMAX,” she states as if also intent on holding up Josh’s end of the conversation. He’s been unusually quiet, offering the odd comment here and there.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” I reply before taking a sip of the red wine Chloe chose to go with the meal. The guys opted to stick with beer.
“So, do you do this often?” Josh gestures with his fork between the siblings. “Double date? Is that some sort of an Irish twin thing?”
Chloe giggles. “I promise, we don’t make a habit of it. But we do usually like to get a thumbs up or down on each other’s dates.”
I notice she doesn’t answer the question. Nice side step though.
“What about you two?” Evan asks with a speculative rise of his eyebrows.
My eyes widen, my gaze darting between Josh and Evan. “What about us?”
“Do you give your opinions? Of each other’s dates? You know, to help weed out the bad ones?”
Again, I look at Josh and this time he’s staring back at me. Well this is awkward.
“I don’t think I’ve actually met any of the guys you’ve dated, right, Erin?”
“No, I don’t think you have.” There isn’t any thinking about it, he hasn’t, as we both know. Just as I haven’t met any of the girls he’s gone out with. That is, until now.
And for good reason. As you can see, the situation is fraught with…with stuff I’m finding it difficult to put into words.
In an identical manner as her brother, Chloe’s manicured eyebrows go up. “My goodness, do you mean I’m the first?” She sounds positively jubilant at the prospe
ct.
Had I blinked, I would have missed the crack in Josh’s composure. But it’s there in the slight spasm of his jaw, the flattening of his lips and the way his Adam’s apple undulates when he swallows. Then it’s gone. The ghost of expressions past.
Lost in her satisfaction and delight is the fact that Josh had nothing to do with our initial meeting and he certainly had nada to do with orchestrating tonight’s events. Quite the contrary. He’d tried his damndest to prevent it from happening. Apparently, Chloe considers that beside the point.
Evan nods approvingly at Josh. “Always good to have friends like that, eh? Chlo has never steered me wrong. Girls have a talent for these things. They’re certainly better at it than us guys.”
That’s right, I’m the friend who’s like a sister to him. “He does okay without my help, right, Josh?”
His response is to reach over and pick up Chloe’s hand, placing a kiss on the back. “Yeah, I would say I do alright without her help.”
Chloe’s all swooning smiles and lovestruck eyes. I think I’m going to be sick.
“It’s better that I do have Erin’s approval, though,” she says, turning her expectant gaze to me.
The shriek of an alarm splits the air, saving me from being forced to lie to my hostess. It’s the loud and strident noise of an emergency alert.
Evan is out of his seat in a flash, snatching his phone off the end table next to the couch. “Shit!” he exclaims staring down at the screen as he quickly quiets it.
Worry knits Chloe’s brow. “What’s wrong?”
“The alarm is going off at work.” Unlike his sister, he sounds more annoyed than troubled.
“You gotta jet?” To say Josh sounds disappointed would be a stretch, his tone instead conveying the requisite amount of concern.
Evan cursing softly under this breath says everything. The date is over.
“What about Frank? Can’t he go?” Chloe looks crestfallen as she sees the evening coming to an unsatisfactory ending.
Evan shakes his head, emits a heavy sigh and pockets his phone. “Frank is out of town until Sunday and I’m in charge until he gets back.” He looks at me. “Do you mind hanging out here until I get back? If it’s a false alarm, I shouldn’t be too long. Just a matter of opening the doors for the cops and letting them have a look around.”
Lord knows how long that will take, and in the meantime, I’ll have to make small talk with the lovebirds. Hard pass. I’d rather walk the twenty miles home—in Jimmy Choo stilettos.
“You don’t have to—”
“I can take her home,” Josh says, cutting me off.
Chapter Ten
Erin
My mouth compresses at the long-suffering note in his voice that sets my teeth on edge. I’m not some damn charity case.
“No, that’s fine, I’ll call an Uber.” I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home.
“No, Erin, I’ll take you home.” Evan looks torn, no doubt frustrated by the crappy timing of it all.
“No, you go take care of the gallery. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to Uber it home.”
Josh makes an impatient sound in his throat. “Don’t be silly. I’ll take you home. I’m headed that way anyway.”
“Okay, that’s settled,” Chloe says, intent, it would appear, to bring all debate to a close. “Evan will take care of the gallery and you’ll drive Erin home.”
Her brother looks bummed but I’m not entirely unhappy the evening is being cut short. What does irk me is the complete lack of concern Chloe seems to have in throwing Josh and I alone together. But then again, she doesn’t see me as a threat. We’re like brother and sister according to her lying boyfriend.
I glance across at Josh. “You’re headed to Harbor Springs?” It’s too late to go by Mitch’s and I highly doubt he planned to go home to his parents’ tonight.
“Yes.” His clipped reply borders on abrasive.
And that’s it, he offers no other explanation. What else can I do but let it go? If I kick up too much of a fuss, it’ll look odd, maybe even seem suspicious, and I don’t want to be the lady protesting too much because that invites closer scrutiny.
Evan is gone within minutes but not before giving me a chaste kiss on the cheek and promising to call if it’s not too late when he’s done. And that pretty much wraps things up. My half-eaten meal remains that way, no one is in the mood for dessert, and the dishes are cleared from the table in short order.
“You ready, Erin?” Josh finds me loitering outside the kitchen having done my part in helping to clean up. Chloe is inside putting away the leftovers.
“When you are,” I reply crisply, annoyed at the impatience he’s making no effort to hide. If his night is ruined, it’s not because of me. Okay, not totally because of me.
I wait at the door, purse in hand, while he kisses his girlfriend goodbye. But out of sight, I discover, doesn’t mean out of mind. The silence of it is excruciating.
They soon join me at the door, Josh holding it open while I step out into the hall.
“We should do this again.” Chloe is, as usual, all smiles and good humor when she sees us out.
I offer a noncommittal smile.
Over my dead body will I ever agree to go out on another double date with Josh and any of his dates or girlfriends. Some experiences need to be capped at one. This one definitely makes the cut.
She blows Josh a kiss and says teasingly, “Bye. Drive safe, and as my mother would always say, no fighting.”
He lets out a wry laugh and nods.
I hear the door close when we arrive at the elevator. The distance between us is more than physical. Upon boarding, I ask, “No fighting? What was that about?”
A smirk ghosts his lips as he shakes his head and hits the button to the lobby. “Nothing.”
It’s a wonder all my fantasies about him aren’t violent. “Are you sure it doesn’t have anything to do with you telling her we’re like brother and sister?”
If he didn’t think I was going to have something to say about that garbage, he has another think coming.
“I didn’t tell her that.” His denial lacks the conviction of an innocent man.
I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him through narrowed eyes, my lips compressed into a straight line. “Then what would give her that impression?”
“It might have been something Mitch said and then I called you a brat.” He says it so matter-of-factly, at first I think he’s joking.
“You called me a brat? To her?” I don’t hear anything else but that, the insult grating on my already frayed nerves. A brat is tantamount to being dismissed outright. No wonder she thought nothing of sending me off alone with her boyfriend. A brat is bothersome, a pest.
I’d rather he called me a bitch. A bitch is not a woman to be messed with. She can be formidable. A bitch is a threat.
“What?” he says with a careless shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not like I called you a bitch.”
One of us isn’t going to survive this elevator ride, and that someone isn’t me. “Why would you say that to her?”
“I was trying to explain why she shouldn’t set you up with Evan and it just came out. Obviously, it didn’t work. She thought it was cute because that’s what her brother Nick sometimes calls her.”
Is that supposed to make me feel better? That he humiliated me in front of his girlfriend behind my back?
I clamp my mouth shut and stare directly ahead until the elevator dings and the doors open. He follows me into the lobby, whose sole occupants are a woman and a young girl.
I spare a brief smile for them as we pass, then I’m back to ignoring Josh. Brisk, swift strides carry me across the tiled floor and out into the cool, moonlit night. He’s there right beside me.
“Hey, don’t tell me you’re mad.” He attempts to capture my hand in his.
“I’m calling an Uber,” I reply, jerking my arm away. Then I stop to dig my cell out of my purse only to have it smoothly s
natched from me.
“Calm down. You’re not calling Uber. I’m taking you home.” Then he has the nerve to shove my phone in his front pocket. The move is so unexpected, it catches me by surprise. My gaze tracks the movement and I’m ticked off that it lingers a second too long on the perfect fit of his jeans. I’m embarrassed that in the midst of my pique his body has the power to distract me.
“Give. Me. Back. My. Phone.”
My anger—now compounded by my inappropriate appreciation of his narrow hips and tight end—has me bristling.
“I’ll give it back to you once we’re in the car.”
I hate how utterly calm he sounds. As if I’m the hysterical one with the tenuous grip on my emotions.
I jam my hands on my hips and hiss between gritted teeth, “What. Is. Your. Problem?”
His eyes narrow down to a squint. “What’s my problem?” He jabs his index finger against a defined pec accentuated by his torso-hugging, burgundy Henley. “I didn’t have a problem until you showed up with—until you showed up.”
“Are you forgetting that this was your girlfriend’s idea? If you want to blame someone, blame her.” Of course he won’t because she’s the one he’s sleeping with.
Josh holds my gaze for several tension-filled seconds before releasing an audible breath and casting a look around. “Can we leave now?”
We could stand here arguing and waste twenty minutes of my life I won’t get back, or I can just let him drive me to my car so I can begin putting this entire evening behind me. The quicker the better.
“Fine. Let’s go. My car’s at the Park & Ride near my house.” With a toss of my hair, I precede him to his car, my indignant stomping not nearly as effective on pavement as it would have been on wood or tile floors.
Despite me walking slightly ahead of him, he somehow manages to have the passenger door open for me by the time I get there. I get in with an indignant huff. The interior of the sports coupe is as impressive as the outside with its camel leather seats and spotless black trim. It even has that new car smell. I buckle up as he slides in behind the wheel and does the same.
Played (Trapped Book 3) Page 8
