“What do you jackasses think went wrong?”
Riley was the first to speak up. Probably because Summer had already analyzed the situation with Annabeth and told him every minuscule way Josh screwed up. “You’re not trying. You’re just treating her like a friend, too.”
Bullshit. “Not true. I took her to the rink on top of the Watergate. Total date material.”
“Did you tell her how beautiful she looked? How good she smelled?”
Please. What he’d done was a hundred times more effective. Especially since Josh hadn’t needed to waste time building up a foundation of interest. Not with the whole we’re already friends thing firmly established. “I kissed her.”
Knox threw himself backward in the chair so hard that it rolled halfway to the door. “Ho, ho, holy shit.” The words finally came out from a deep Santa laugh. “Is he even worth our effort to help?”
Moving to lean against the glass window behind Knox, Riley said, “He may not be, but Annabeth is. Don’t want her feeling blue. Especially at the holidays.”
What the hell? Were they on her side? Or were they just yanking his chain? It showed how off-balance the whole thing had Josh that he couldn’t tell. “Thanks a lot, Ry. Don’t count on me spending three hours making your traditional birthday boeuf bourguignon this year.”
Griffin gave him the stare. The one he used to dress down junior officers. The one he used to halt Logan mid-reach for the last beer if his own bottle was empty. So whatever was coming next was serious. “Look, Josh, the fact is that you’ve got to put some effort into it. That’s the difference between hooking up and dating.”
Logan jumped in with his own spin. “You sure as hell don’t give up and walk away after one little thing goes wrong. Not if she matters.”
#
Instead of the usual bell that chimed when the door opened at Forever Summer, a leather strip of jingle bells rang out as he entered.
That was good, right? The Christmas season softened everybody up. Feeling hopeful, Josh wound his way through the shoulder-to-shoulder women crowding the boutique. And with every one he passed, that hope extinguished a little more.
It was crazy busy. Too busy for Annabeth to be able to spare time to talk to him. He wouldn’t like it if she showed up at the peak of a lunch rush and tried to have a serious conversation. But who knew that all of D.C. would be shopping at seven thirty on a Thursday night? When there was still one more day until it was even December?
He jammed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. The guys had spent the entire photo shoot shouting advice at him. It felt like his own personal pep rally by the time they were finally allowed to put their shirts back on. Josh had spent the whole Uber ride over here planning what to say.
Well, running through options. What he ended up saying would depend on how long Annabeth would listen to him. And in this crowd? She wouldn’t have two seconds to glance his way, let alone listen.
Fuck. Josh tried to turn around and head back out. His elbow connected with the edge of an open armoire door. The stacks of sweaters inside it stayed put. The hanger full of scarves hooked onto the top of the door did not. It hit the floor with a clunk. The door banged loudly against the wooden frame. The chorus of gasps from the five shoppers closest to him, though, were probably what caught Summer’s attention.
“Josh! Why not just bring in your soccer ball next time and do a header at my jewelry display?”
“Sorry.” So much for sneaking back out unnoticed.
“I imagine you’re sorry for walking through the door at all.”
What looked like two red plaid scarves spilled down over Summer’s white sweater, a giant silver snowflake pinning them together. She looked stylish and fancy as always. But her cuffs were rolled up. Her long, black hair was half in and half out of a messy ponytail. Though Josh wouldn’t risk his life by saying so, shadows under her eyes gave away her level of exhaustion.
“Can I make it up to you? Be your bagger for half an hour or something?” Slowly, he edged sideways to the counter, with an apologetic head nod about every other step to the shoppers he bumped. “You look swamped.”
“That depends. How on point are your tissue-paper-layering and bow-tying skills?”
“No points. Pointless. More, um, doughnut-shaped.”
The stink-eye she gave him was serious stuff. “You can carve a carrot into a rosette and you can’t tie a bow?”
“Hand me a paring knife and I can probably make something interesting out of the tissue paper,” Josh offered with a shrug.
“How about you have some snickerdoodles waiting for me when I get to the rectory tonight?”
“Deal.” He bumped knuckles with her, looked at the distance to the door, along with the fifteen bodies blocking it, and sighed.
His sigh pushed one out of Summer, too, and her expression softened. Softened to something too damn close to pity. Pointing at the door to the stockroom, she ordered, “Get back there and talk to Annabeth. Don’t cock it all up this time, okay?”
“Isn’t she too busy? I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Romance takes precedence over retail. That’s the rule.”
Josh didn’t think it was a real rule. But he’d never been so grateful for Summer’s soft heart. He didn’t bother to knock on the door to the stockroom, what with the din of excited shoppers squealing over finds and the trumpet-heavy Christmas jazz filling the air.
So he had a second to read the surprise in Annabeth’s eyes. Her head came up from her laptop screen, gaze unguarded as he slid sideways through the barely open door. Surprise flared, then died out into sadness. “What are you doing here?”
“Apologizing?”
An eyebrow sliced up into an arch so sharp it was a miracle her forehead wasn’t bleeding. “Is that a question? If so, what precisely will push you over the edge to a full-blown apology?”
That was question one answered. Annabeth was still mad. Or hurt. Or both. Question two? Whether or not she’d let him say his piece. “Right now? It’s a question if you’ll let me get it all out.”
A cool reserve shuttered her face completely. “Of course I will. That’s what friends do. They listen.” The emphasis on the word friends was so heavy Josh was surprised it didn’t crack the floorboards with its weight.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t bring my A game to our date.”
She stood, slammed the door the rest of the way with the tip of a black boot that stopped above her knee in a rolled fur cuff. Man, it was hot. “That’s a crap apology.”
“I didn’t say I’d be good at it, did I?” Josh forced himself to stop looking at her legs in those boots. Dragged his eyes up past all the tight-covered thigh exposed between the top of the boots and what had to be an illegal short sweater dress. The black and gray stripes wound tightly around her curves in a way that made him want to backhand his mouth for accidental drool.
“Fair enough.” She crossed her arms, but didn’t move back to the laptop. That was classic, feisty Annabeth. Ready to go toe-to-toe with him rather than admit she was hurt.
Josh hated knowing that he’d hurt her. Unintentionally, but that didn’t matter. All he could do now was hope for the chance to make it right.
“I can promise that it’s heartfelt. I didn’t bring my A game to our date, because I forgot I needed it. I forgot about making you feel special.” He fig-leafed his hands at his crotch in an effort not to touch her. “Not because you don’t deserve it. I forgot because I’m an idiot. Because I got stuck on the idea of how our being friends first smoothed the way, made everything easy. No need for twenty idiotic questions about family and favorite bands. No need to charm you to get you to decide you wanted me. That was dead wrong.”
“Yes, it was,” she sassed back.
He’d take it. He’d take whatever Annabeth threw at him. At least that meant they were talking. Being normal again. But he had more spoonfuls of apology to dole out.
“You deserve twice the effort I’ve
ever made before. I should’ve told you how pretty you looked in that red hat.” Josh stroked the backs of his knuckles softly along her jawline. “How the way your cheeks pinked up from the wind made me want to kiss them. How I felt like the luckiest guy, not just on that rooftop, but in the whole damned hotel, that you were on my arm. I didn’t try hard enough. It was stupid.”
“Yes, it was,” she repeated. Then Annabeth scrunched up her nose, like the truth smelled about as good as week-old shrimp lo mein. “Although I should’ve tried harder, too. I got stuck in my head, on a loop, thinking about everything you just said. How complicated it was to figure out how to go from being friends to something…more.”
Yeah, they were back on the same page. It was interesting that they’d both been in their heads too much to do the date justice. Was that some fucked-up proof that they were right for each other?
“I appreciate the assist, but I’m taking all the credit for tanking our date.” Josh slid his hand down her arm to cradle her hand in both of his. “And I’m asking for another chance. Because you matter more than anyone else I’ve ever made half the effort for.”
She didn’t pull away. But she didn’t curl her fingers around his either. That little vertical stress line drew itself between her brows, too. “I don’t know, Josh. This isn’t the best time for me to scatter my attention. I’m worried that the sales numbers online aren’t matching the projections.”
Hey, if talking business would buy him time to convince her, Josh would talk profits and cocktail dresses and freaking cropped pants all night long. “How far are they off?”
“0.4%.”
Unable to stop himself, he barked out a laugh. “That’s incredible. How’d you get so damned close?”
“I wrote a really good program to predict where we should be on a daily basis. I factored in three years of historical data, weather, nearby sales, days of the week—”
Josh cut her off with a raised hand. “I’ll be happy to listen to chapter and verse on your program…on our next date. But as someone who’s been running his own business for years? Believe me when I say you’re doing better than great.”
“But it’s already November 29th.”
“But it’s only November 29th,” he countered. Thinking fast, he offered, “What if I could guarantee you more sales?”
After a too-late attempt at stifling her eye roll, Annabeth asked, “Do you really think buying a scarf as a present for your sister will turn around our bottom line?”
“Close, and yet laughably far from my offer. My sister, Louisa, can help. I saw her over Thanksgiving weekend. Listened until my ear fell off about how her holiday party for the Junior League and the Symphony Guild are back to back, and nobody has time to shop for dresses. I’ll get her to send out a link to your website to all her pals.”
“You’d do that?”
“What are friends for?” Feeling bolder, feeling the need to remind her why they’d fought through to the other side of this rough patch, Josh pulled her into his arms. “I mean, what are boyfriends for?”
Annabeth took only a few seconds to melt into his embrace. “I guess I’ll find out for sure on our next date.”
CHAPTER NINE
Twenty-four hours ago, Annabeth had sworn off men. Not forever—because she wasn’t a masochist or a martyr. Just for the holiday season. Because the fiasco of a date with Josh had made her mopey and mad. That put her in the wrong mind-set to enjoy snow and lights and glittery bows. Oh God, and her favorite mulled wine.
Nope, she’d flat out refused to let Josh ruin Christmas.
Now, though? The twinkle lights on the trees in Lafayette Square didn’t just beat back the foggy gray of the morning. They made her heart twinkle, too. Corny? You bet. Annabeth was a sucker for all things Christmas. Working like a maniac through the beast that was the shopping season didn’t diminish her love of carols one bit.
Having a Christmas boyfriend, though, was the extra swag of tinsel on the tree of the holidays. It was leaving a cookie swap with a dozen more than you walked in with. It was discovering that not only were the presents you bought on sale, but the store offered free gift wrap.
It was something she’d always longed for. Now Santa had treated her early, dropping a drop-dead gorgeous, charming, talented man into her life. He’d made two fantasies come true—the flights of fancy she’d had ever since the first time she’d laid eyes on Josh’s bulging biceps and the long-held but never satisfied wish for a Christmas boyfriend.
The timing wasn’t perfect, what with trying to go above and beyond at her new-ish job. Less than ideal, actually. But Annabeth decided to channel Scarlett O’Hara and worry about that another day.
As Josh had pointed out, it wasn’t even December yet. Only by fifteen hours, but she’d take it. She’d take fifteen freaking minutes to enjoy the huge wreaths on the doors of the Old Executive Office Building and revel in the fun of surprising Josh.
She’d timed her approach to his Capitol Grilled truck for after the breakfast rush. The staffers at the White House didn’t exactly hang about after grabbing their food. It ought to be a good time to swing by and say hi without disrupting business.
Even though the damp chill seeped through her leather gloves, the door at the end of his food truck was propped open. Annabeth could hear Josh explaining something. Curious to see what he was like in “boss mode,” she crept to the edge of the high door.
With more than a little exasperation in his tone, Josh asked, “Do you like emptying the grease trap, Kordell?”
“Hell no.” The teenager squatted, scrubbing the front of the stove with steel wool. Wow. Hard-core.
“Do you want that to be your whole life?”
“No.” Kordell stood, tossing the scrubber into the sink. Then he hitched up his jeans, for which Annabeth was quite grateful, with her view from the back. “I want to live large in a penthouse where people bring me food on a wheeled cart.”
That was an oddly specific dream. But hey, you do you, Kordell, she thought. And put her hand over her mouth to smother a giggle.
“Then get your GED.” Josh rubbed his forearm across his brow. The gesture gave the impression this wasn’t their first go-round on the topic.
His words coming out in a rush, Kordell said, “I didn’t mean I don’t want to work here no more. I just don’t wanna do the grease trap all day. I like cooking. I like it fine.”
“You’re good at it, too. One of the best line cooks I’ve ever trained in here.”
The boy—well, the six-foot tall “boy”—ducked his head. “Thanks, man.”
Josh spun shut a bag of challah. “But you’re never going to get that penthouse by working on a food truck. This should be a first step for you. You won’t get that second step without a GED, though.”
Kordell sort of jittered his way to the opposite end of the truck. Then he pounded his fist against the frame of the roof. “I told you, I quit the program because the damn math sucked.”
“You sucked at the math,” Josh corrected. And Annabeth was awed by his patience. At the way he pushed back, despite the defensive anger filling the truck as much as the scent of melted cheese. He was taking the time with this kid. Not just working him, or teaching him to be a cook. But mentoring him as an all-around person.
“Whatever. Yeah.”
Josh kept futzing with the myriad loaves of bread. Kept his eyes on the supplies and gave Kordell plenty of space. “Remember Mr. Logan, when you met him at the podcast? His girlfriend, Miss Brooke, used to teach at a swanky school where they make kids help out. She knows a senior who needs to rack up some hours, ah, helping. He’s a whiz at math. Regi’s also on their football team, so he’s not a total nerd. You’ll like him.”
“I can’t afford no tutor.” But he stopped the jittering, aside from another yank at the jeans below his deep blue Capitol Grilled long-sleeved tee.
Josh looked over at him. “It’s free. Like I said, Regi needs to log the hours.”
“Community se
rvice.” Kordell spat the words out like they tasted worse than moldy bologna.
“Yeah. But this?” Josh tapped a thick stack of bread with slices of brie and apple and ham hanging out the edges. “This mouthwatering sandwich you just built? Trust me, that’s a community service, too. In the best possible way. Make Regi one of these and you two will be square.”
“I guess I can talk to him. Take his measure.” Kordell palmed an apple and started paring it. “He won’t bore me with that soccer shit the way you do, will he?”
“I have a feeling Miss Brooke is as sick of hearing about soccer as you are. She probably screened out anyone who plays.” Josh’s tone was serious, but as he finished the sentence, he angled away from Kordell, rolling his eyes. That’s when he noticed Annabeth hanging on to the door.
With a waggle of her fingers, she said, “Hey.” She was happy to talk to him. But Annabeth was also happy to have watched that entire scene unfold. No, not just happy. Honored.
“This is a surprise. A good one,” he was quick to add, hopping out to enfold her in his arms. “Feels like Christmas came early.”
Josh smelled like butter and melted honey. It was such an instant turn-on that it was all Annabeth could do not to lap at his neck as she nuzzled in close.
“I figured this would be more filling than just stalking your Instagram feed,” she teased.
“You want breakfast? Kordell, fire up that masterpiece for the lady,” he hollered over his shoulder.
“You know, I’ve actually been here a little while. I watched you two together.”
“Uh oh.” Josh let go and gave her a pretty good side-eye as he walked her several paces away from Kordell’s listening area. “Am I in trouble? Did you think I was too rough on him?”
“Are you kidding? I was blown away by your mix of patience, tenacity, and good humor.”
Interlacing their fingers, Josh brought her hand to his mouth to drop a quick kiss. “Babe, you are better than a triple shot of espresso in the morning.”
She’d dropped by only for fun—and for breakfast. And perhaps a few of Josh’s knee-melting kisses to rev her up for the day. But Annabeth couldn’t ignore such a perfect opening.
Having It All Page 8
