by Holly Jacobs
Slowly, laboriously he spelled the word. Meg clapped and made a sign.
“What did she say?” he asked Libby.
“She said good job.”
Thank you, Josh signed back, another online piece of information he’d picked up. “And telling her how to spell a word is cheating.”
“She’s ten, Josh.”
“So?”
“So, helping a ten-year-old who is competing against adults isn’t cheating, it’s…it’s evening the odds.”
Josie cleared her throat.
Josh watched in fascination as Libby’s face colored even more. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“For what, Libby? Arguing with Josh in front of us? It’s not us you have to worry about, it’s poor Meg,” Josie said as she signed.
“You know, it’s important for children to learn to get along. How can the child learn how to behave like an adult if you go around forgetting we’re all here and having a private argument with Josh?” Pearly asked slyly.
“I didn’t forget you two were here,” Libby blustered.
Josh sat back and watched the three women, their hands flying. No that wasn’t quite right. He mainly watched Libby. She was back to being prickly, but the more he watched, the more he was sure he liked her prickly side.
Hell, who was he kidding? He liked all of Libby McGuiness’s sides.
He noticed Meg was giving him a little wave, and he raised his eyebrows in a silent what?
The girl discreetly pointed at her mother, who was still sniping back and forth with Josie and Pearly. Meg slowly fingerspelled L-I-K-E-S, then made a motion that Josh assumed was the sign for like, and then pointed to Josh.
Josh discreetly pointed to himself, signed like, then pointed to Libby and Meg. Then he pointed to Meg, signed like and then pointed to himself, hoping she knew it was a question. When she nodded yes, Josh grinned.
“What are you doing?” Libby said, suddenly pulling Josh’s awareness back to the rest of the Scrabble company.
“I just told your daughter I liked her.”
Almost everything Libby said she signed, as well, but this time she said, without signing, “Don’t mess with my kid, Gardner.”
Suddenly the mood at the table changed. Pearly and Josie stopped teasing Libby, and Libby froze as solidly as Lake Erie in February. All the while Josh tried to understand what had just happened.
He liked Meg? Well, who wouldn’t? She was a great kid. He envied Libby for having a daughter like her. He’d wanted kids so much, but Lynn hadn’t. But if they’d had a kid, he wouldn’t have minded a little girl with a contagious grin like Meg had.
Unfortunately, Meg’s mother wasn’t wearing any grin. She was scowling as she went back to the game. All four adults put on a pleasant front, but the Scrabble tournament wrapped up in record time. Pearly and Josie followed Meg back to her room to see something, leaving Libby and Josh alone, which was just what he’d been wishing earlier. But now, being alone with Libby felt awkward.
“I suppose you have to be going?” she asked hopefully.
“First I want to know what that little scene at the table was about?”
“What scene?” she asked innocently, much too innocently. She avoided looking at him again, this time by cleaning up the Scrabble game.
Josh sighed. Back to square one. He placed a hand over hers, halting the tile-picking-up process. “Libby, talk to me.”
She pulled her hand back as if his touch had burned.
“What was the don’t-mess-with-my-daughter scene all about? I simply said I liked her.”
“No, that’s not all you did. You went ahead and learned to fingerspell somewhere—”
“I said I surfed the Internet.”
“And then you told her you liked her.”
“I do like her. Meg’s got a lot of spunk, not unlike her mother, whom for the record, I said I liked, as well.”
“To who?” Libby asked, a panic quality to her voice.
“Who did I say I liked you to? To Meg.”
“Don’t.” One cold, flat word—that’s all Libby offered.
Softly, sensing there was more going on here than he could absorb, Josh asked, “Don’t like you, or don’t tell your daughter I like you.”
“Either. Listen, Dr. Gardner—”
“Josh.”
“You’re my new neighbor. We’re planning a Christmas party together. I’ll even allow that you’re not as obnoxious as I originally thought, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”
“I never said you did, but I like you.” What was going on here? Josh didn’t want to get involved with anyone—he was still recovering from his divorce. What was Libby recovering from, or better yet, what was she running from?
“Don’t,” she said simply and stood.
Josh sprang to his feet, as well, and caught her by the arm before she could bolt.
“Libby, you can’t just command someone to not like you. I like your spunk. I like the way you handle your daughter. I like the way you treat three interfering ladies who are obviously going to keep throwing us together. And I’ll confess, I like them for the throwing. But most of all, I liked the way you felt in my arms last night.”
“I want you to forget about that.” She squirmed, trying to break away from him, but Josh held tight.
“I can’t forget any more than I forget how much I like you, and how much I’m wishing you had some mistletoe up.”
“It’s Thanksgiving—too early for Christmas decorations.” She squirmed harder.
“I don’t think it’s ever too early for mistletoe. Personally I’m all for making it a year-round decoration in every house—especially yours.” He released his grip on her arm, but before she could make her break, he wrapped her in his arms.
“Josh,” Libby warned. Her squirming stopped and she froze in his arms, no longer fighting, but not relaxing, either.
“Libby, you know you’ve been wondering if it will be as good the second time.” He removed one arm from her waist and raised his hand to trace her jawline.
Libby shuddered and momentarily leaned toward him. Then, as if she realized what she’d done, she jerked back as far as she could. “I’m not wondering anything of the kind. I don’t want a second kiss.”
Josh continued to hold her, but allowed her the space she seemed to need.
“You’re lying,” he said softly. “And to be honest, I can understand that. You don’t want to like me, I don’t want to like you. You don’t want to want to kiss me. I don’t want to want to kiss you, either. And yet, there it is. This feeling of like and respect I have for you, and this great big kiss, just begging to be had.”
“That was the most convoluted sentence I’ve ever heard,” she snorted.
Josh dropped his arm from around her waist and Libby took a couple of steps backward, putting distance between them.
“How do you say to kiss in sign?” Josh asked.
“Josh.” She took another step back.
“Do you just pucker up your lips and mime it?”
“You don’t need to know how to say to kiss in A.S.L., or in English since we’re not kissing again.”
“How about French? I think it’s embrasser. Did you ever notice that just about anything sounds better in French? Embrasser. I mean would you rather eat escargot, or snails? And would you rather embrassemoi or kiss me?” Josh took a step in her direction.
Libby countered it. “I’d rather eat snails than embrasse you.”
“Again, I say, liar. It’s time you stop lying and start—”
“Kissing? I don’t think so. You can take your over-inflated ego and go home. You said you understood last night. You said we could be friends.”
“Libby, I said if that’s what you wanted I wouldn’t kiss you again, but it’s not what you want. You want a kiss.”
“Go home, Josh.”
“Libby.” He didn’t want to leave her. The realization was a bit of a shock. As much as he’d been fantasizing about kissing her, Josh
could rationalize that. After all, it had been a long time since he’d been attracted to a woman. Since he and Lynn had separated, Josh hadn’t wanted any woman.
Now there was Libby, standing there with her extremely kissable lips. Right now those lips were tight with annoyance…or was it fear?
“I don’t need anyone telling me what I want, what I think,” she said. “I’m not afraid of you, I’m just too discerning to go around kissing parking-space-hogging egotists.”
“I thought we were past the parking incident.”
“And I thought we were past this kissing nonsense, but I guess we were both wrong. Good night, Josh.”
Libby watched as, without another word, Joshua Gardner picked up his jacket and left.
There, she’d done it. She’d rid herself of the uninvited, kiss-stealing ophthalmologist. She was thrilled. Absolutely overjoyed that she’d finally made him understand that she wasn’t interested. Yep, she was thrilled, she assured herself as she stood at the window, once again watching until his truck was out of sight.
“Good golly Miss Molly, you two got it bad,” Pearly muttered from behind her.
Libby whirled around. “Got what bad?”
Rather than answer the question, Pearly said, “Your fighting made the Thanksgiving feel like a real down-home holiday. That ruckus made me feel like I was back in Buford and Papa’s pounding on the door for Mama.” Pearly chuckled.
“Pearly—”
“Did I ever tell you about those two? They fought like cats and dogs—but they’d make up for hours. They’d send us all outside to pick berries, rake the yard or…well they’d think of some excuse and then…the ruckus they’d kick up. It took some growing up before we all realized they weren’t still fighting.”
Libby smiled in spite of herself. The world could be crashing down at her feet and Pearly would find a way to make things look brighter. Her down-home stories of growing up in the South grew and altered like the passing of the seasons, but they were always interesting.
“For once in her bubble-popping, polish-sniffing life, I think Josie’s right. You and Josh are a great match.”
“How can you say that? Every time we’re together we end up fighting.” That is when they didn’t end up kissing, she silently added.
“Now, Libby, honey, if you and I can ever find men who fight like my father did and makes up just as wildly, well, I guess us two old spinsters had better just snap him up.” Pearly tossed her coat on and opened the door. “Thanks for the dinner, and for making it seem like home. You just think on what I said.”
Snap Josh up?
Ha!
There was no way Libby was going to have anything at all to do with Joshua Gardner once this Christmas party was over.
Chapter Six
“Mom, he’s here,” Meg signed just before she sped out of the room.
Libby purposely finished folding the last two T-shirts that she’d taken from the dryer. She’d started the load as soon as she woke up and wasn’t in a hurry to finish since there was no doubt in her mind who the he Meg was referring to was. And though Meg might be brimming with excitement at the thought of the day to come, Libby didn’t share her enthusiasm. He could wait a minute.
Actually, Libby had been hoping that he wouldn’t show up, but she should have known he wouldn’t back out of the shopping trip.
Joshua Gardner seemed to enjoy making her life miserable. Hogging parking spaces, showing up at Thanksgiving dinner…kissing her. And most annoying of all, not kissing her.
Her hands stilled mid-fold. If she was honest, there had been a slight disappointment when he hadn’t kissed her last night. She’d never thought of herself as a woman who said no and meant yes, but despite all the no’s she’d said to him, all the times she’d denied it to herself, Libby had enjoyed their kiss the night before Thanksgiving and had felt a small pang of regret it wasn’t repeated last night.
The feel of his body had imprinted itself on hers, and his kiss—She brushed her fingertip across her lips. How had such a small, tender kiss left her so at loose ends?
It had to be a hormonal reaction. It had been so long since Mitch had left, so long since anyone other than Meg had touched her, that her body had experienced a surge of hormones that had taken over momentarily. And now the moment was gone.
Libby was her rational self again—rational enough to know that there would be no more kissing between her and the very kissable Dr. Joshua Gardner. She’d resisted last night with no problem at all. Well, hardly any problem.
The fact that she’d spent a restless night, tossing and turning, had more to do with all the things that had to be accomplished in the next few weeks. The Christmas rush at Snips and Snaps, the Christmas party she’d been conned into planning and the shopping. She had to learn enough about megs and RAMs and modems to deal with Meg’s computer. Those were the thoughts that kept her up last night. It wasn’t thinking about Josh’s kiss.
Her fingers brushed her lips one more time. No, she was totally over Josh Gardner and his very kissable lips.
“Libby?”
She whirled around guiltily, half-folded shirt in her hand and fantasy broken. Ignoring her racing heart, she forced herself to smile. “Josh. You’re here. I’ll, um, well I’ll be ready in a minute. Almost done here.”
“No hurry,” he said. “Meg pointed me in this direction and then sped down the hall to her room.”
“She’s planning to do some of her own shopping today, and I imagine she’s checking that she’s got every cent from her various banks.”
“What is she shopping for?”
“A new video game.” Video games? She was standing talking to Josh about video games. It seemed a silly subject, but then Libby would welcome just about any silly subject if it meant they weren’t talking about kissing.
“Maybe I’ll stand a better chance at beating her if we’re playing something new.”
Libby wanted to warn him that after they wrapped up the party plans, he wouldn’t have an opportunity to be playing anything with Meggie, but she didn’t have a chance because Josh continued. “Why don’t I go see if Meg’s found all her money and we’ll meet you in the truck when you’re finished here?”
“I’m done now,” Libby muttered to herself, since Josh was already gone. With all the enthusiasm of a prisoner marching to the firing squad, Libby plodded after Josh and Meg to the truck, which was practically pressed against her garage.
“Could you have parked any closer, Gardner?”
“Don’t start on my parking again, McGuiness. I park just fine.”
She snorted her response.
“This should go fast,” she said as she took the giant step required to climb into Josh’s huge truck.
Fast was definitely not the word to describe their shopping progress. Going through a toy store with Meg, especially when she had money, was never a treat. Meg would debate the merits of each potential buy, weigh her options and basically stall for as long as possible. Libby figured it couldn’t get any worse.
But she was wrong.
Shopping with Josh and Meg was a lot worse.
Using her as an interpreter, they weighed the possibilities of each gift for each child on the PSBA’s list. Two and a half hours later, sure that the worst was behind her, all that was left was Meg’s shopping.
“But Quest is more money,” Meg protested. “And Annihilator has more characters.”
“Less graphic quality,” Josh argued.
“Stop,” Libby signed and said simultaneously. “No Annihilator. It’s far too violent.”
“I don’t want a baby game,” Meg signed, pointing at the educational Quest in Josh’s hands.
“Not a baby game, but something with a little less blood and guts,” Josh promised.
Meg didn’t need Libby to interpret her violent head shake.
“How about this?” Josh asked, holding aloft Star Lords. “My friend Charlie has this, and I’ve played. Tons of action, no blood and guts.”
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br /> “Will you play with me?” Meg asked.
Libby paused before interpreting. She didn’t like it that Meg seemed to be growing so attached to Josh. Their homework/video bonding the other night, yesterday at dinner and now, shopping, chatting and laughing with him. Meg’s attachment probably had nothing to do with Josh as a person. It was more Meg’s longing for a man—any man—in her life.
“Mom,” Meg signed.
“Sorry,” Libby signed back even as she repeated, “Meg wants to know if you’ll play with her,” to Josh.
“If your mom invites me over when we’re done shopping.”
Libby glared at Josh, even as she signed the words, and added, “You’re invited,” as unenthusiastically as she could manage.
But her lack of enthusiasm didn’t seem to dissuade Josh at all. He just grinned and said, “Then, yes, I’ll play.”
“Okay.” Meg happily put the game in the cart and pushed the overflowing cart toward the cashier.
“You didn’t have to use my daughter to get an invitation over.”
Josh laughed. “You mean you were going to invite me on your own?”
“No,” she grumbled, wishing Josh didn’t look so darned cute when he smiled. It just wasn’t fair that one man should have so much appeal.
“Is this still about our kiss?” he asked softly.
“Shh. Meg can lip-read a little.”
“But unless she has eyes in the back of her head, I don’t think she managed it right now.” His hand gently touched her shoulder. “So, is this awkwardness about last night’s attempted kiss, or about our actual kiss the night before?”
“What kiss?” Libby asked. Why did their conversations always seem to circle back to kissing? Even worse, why did all her thoughts circle there, as well?
Libby McGuiness was a calm, rational person. What was it about Josh that left her skittering from one emotion to another?
“You can try to ignore our kiss, and I can try, but I think eventually we’re going to have to try it again.”
