by Holly Jacobs
“Hey!” He laughed as he wiped the bubbles from his nose. “What was that for? We haven’t finished loading the dishwasher yet, so the kiss was unscheduled, and the bubbles were uncalled for.”
“I don’t like being predictable—”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he teased.
“—so I don’t want to kiss you on a schedule.”
“Oh.” He scooped up a handful of suds and plopped them on her head. “I’m not predictable, either. But I liked my kissing schedule.”
“I liked the kissing part.” She wiped the suds off her head and placed her desudded hands on his shoulder. “I like the kissing part a whole bunch.”
“Who am I to argue with a lady?” The laughter quickly gave way to more kissing.
Libby knew she should be worried, but while she was in his arms, while she was kissing him, she could think of nothing but Josh, and at that moment, it was enough.
A stomp brought Libby back to her senses. She pushed against Josh, separating them, but not soon enough to save her daughter from getting an eyeful of their embrace.
Meg stood in the doorway, eyeing the adults. “Having fun?” she asked.
Libby could feel the heat rise to her cheeks. “I…I had something in my eye and Josh was helping me get it out.”
“It looked more like kissing to me,” Meg said slyly.
“Meg!”
“Well, he was. And you were kissing him back.” The precocious child had the nerve to laugh. “Relax. I like Josh, remember? I just came to see if he wanted to play some video games, but I think he’d rather stay here with you.”
With that, Meg scampered back toward her room.
“You know, that’s one of the few times you haven’t interpreted automatically for me,” Josh said softly.
Libby startled. She’d forgotten him for a moment. She whirled around. “Now look what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done?” The infuriating man had the gall to laugh. “Seems to me you were there kissing, too.”
“I…well, I shouldn’t…” Libby resisted the urge to stomp her foot in frustration. Men and daughters—she couldn’t decide which was more frustrating.
“I should have known better,” she said with all the decisiveness she could muster.
“Libby, we were just kissing, nothing more. I don’t think witnessing it will cause Meg any serious long-term psychological damage. She didn’t seem upset.”
Libby didn’t want to listen to some ophthalmologist try his hand at psychoanalyzing her daughter. She didn’t want to talk about kissing, about not kissing, about anything. So instead of talking, she turned back to the dishes.
“So now you’re going to give me the silent treatment?”
“Maybe. Maybe not talking to you is a good idea.”
“Was she upset, Libby?” He took a plate and loaded it into the dishwasher, his hand extended waiting for the next. “I’ve learned a thing or two about body language watching Meg, and she didn’t seem upset. You seemed upset, but not Meg.”
Libby ignored him and just kept washing.
“Was she upset, Libby?”
“No. No she wasn’t.” She glared at Josh.
“So why are you?” His voice was a soft caress—seductive and tempting.
“I…” Libby desperately tried to remember why she was upset. All she could think of was how utterly kissable his lips looked, and how inviting his arms seemed.
“I think I’m losing my mind,” she lamented as she walked into that very tempting embrace.
“That’s only right because I’ve already lost mine,” Josh said just before his lips, those lusciously kissable lips, claimed hers.
“You’ve lost it,” Josh said in the middle of Libby’s paper-strewn spare room. They’d spent a quiet afternoon wrapping the gifts they’d bought for the party. Meg was off with Josie, leaving Libby and Josh to finish up the party preparations.
“There’s nothing left to do,” he said.
“But we’ve—”
“Libby, it’s all done.” He balled a scrap of paper and shot it at the clear recycling bag.
“What if we forgot—?”
“We didn’t forget anything,” he soothed. “And so what if we did? It’s a party for the PSBA, not for the president and visiting dignitaries. We’ve got a hall, food and gifts…. Anything else we’ve forgotten can’t be all that important.”
Libby crinkled her brow. “I just want it to be perfect.”
Josh reached out and ran a finger lightly across her forehead. “Perfection is sorely overrated. And right now we’re going to be a lot less than perfect…. We’re going to play hooky.”
He watched Libby survey the mess they’d made wrapping presents for Santa to hand out. “We really should clean up.”
“We’ll clean up later. We’ve got—” Josh glanced at his watch “—two hours until Josie brings Meg back and we’re going to have some fun.”
Josh didn’t mind planning the party with Libby because it gave him an excuse to be with her. But suddenly he wanted more—he wanted to get away from her house, from the party. He wanted her all to himself. He wanted to be the sole focus of her attention.
“What do you have in mind?” Libby asked, suspicion tingeing her tone.
He chuckled. “Get your mind out of the gutter, McGuiness. Maybe it’s time we tried something other than sparring with each other, planning this party or necking.”
“I like necking,” she protested.
“I actually like all three, but let’s try something new.” He stood and reached out a hand. As always, a tiny jolt of something accompanied her touch as he pulled her to her feet.
“What?” she asked, trailing after him as he left the room.
“Put on something warm and trust me.” Josh searched his childhood memories of Erie for someplace to take her, someplace away from everything and everyone.
Presque Isle. In the summer the sliver of land that shot out into Lake Erie was crowded, one of Erie County’s major tourist attractions, but Josh remembered its beauty didn’t dim in the winter. And the wide expanse of beach covered in its winter coat of snow and ice was breathtaking.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he backed the truck out of her driveway.
“Trust me,” he said again.
They rode in companionable silence across town. Libby couldn’t help sneaking an occasional glance at the man driving the huge truck. Why was she here when every sensible part of her mind was screaming that time she spent with this man was dangerous?
Libby wasn’t sure. All she knew was that whenever she was with him she felt…alive. They made their way across town and down Peninsula Drive. Libby purposely looked out the windows; staring at Josh was disconcerting. She wasn’t sure what to feel, what to expect. Watching Waldameer Park, and the old Peninsula Drive-in out the window was easier than watching Josh and trying to pin a name on the emotions he evoked.
“We’re here,” he said, pulling the truck into a parking space on Beach Three.
“You’re way too close to that car,” Libby said. Josh had pulled the oversize truck into a parallel spot and was practically sitting on the blue Tracker in front of them. “You’ve got tons of room—that’s the only other car here—and still you’re right on his bumper.”
“He’s got plenty of room to pull forward.”
Libby simply raised an eyebrow.
Josh slipped the truck into Reverse and backed off a couple feet. “Happy?”
“I’m sure the Tracker’s driver will be. You and Meg might make fun of my distance from the curb when I park, but you are a bumper hugger.”
“You dare impugn my driving ability?” he growled.
“More than dare. I’ll scream it from the rooftops. Dr. Joshua Gardner is a bumper-climbing, parking-space hog.”
“You know what this means?” he asked.
“What?”
“War.”
With a shriek, Libby burst from the truck and dashed
across the snow-covered beach with Josh right on her heels. She glanced behind her to see where he was, and that was all the opening Josh needed. He tackled her, pinning her beneath him.
“Why, Dr. Gardner, what do you think you’re going to do now?” she asked in a Pearly-esque Southern belle accent.
“I think you’d better brace yourself. There’s only one thing to do with women who impugn my driving—”
“Not your driving, your parking abilities,” she corrected.
“My parking abilities. I’m afraid I’m going to have to kiss you.”
“Oh, no. Say it isn’t so. That would be torture, pure and simple. And one slight disparagement of your parking abilities shouldn’t force me to suffer so.” Her mittened fingers dug at the snow and formed a haphazard snowball.
“Oh, I could think of even worse tortures for you, but since this is a public place, we’ll settle for a simple kiss.”
Libby watched Josh’s lips begin their descent. “Um, Josh?” she said.
“Hmm?”
“You can’t park.” She plopped the snowball in his face, and as he sputtered and wiped snow from his face, she rolled and pushed her way out from under him, tossing him into the snow as she made her escape, sprinting across the deserted beach.
Josh was on her heels in a moment. “Caught ya,” he said, snagging her by the shoulders and spinning her to face him. “Now what should I do with you?”
“How about just hold me?” she asked softly.
“Hmm. Good idea. If I’m holding you it will be harder for you to attack.” He pulled her into his arms, her back to his chest, and simply held her.
They stood, watching the late-afternoon sun sink behind the ice dunes. “I love it out here in the summer, but I’ll confess I’ve never been out here in the winter. That was a mistake,” Libby said, her voice a soft whisper that was almost too loud for the winter-quiet beach.
“I haven’t been here since I was a kid, but it’s still the same, still one of the most beautiful places on earth.” He looked at the woman who fit so neatly in his arms. “And being here with you makes it even more beautiful.” He placed a chaste kiss on her neck.
Libby searched for something to say, but couldn’t find the words. Instead she simply snuggled more securely into his embrace. Aggravation, annoyance, laughter, companionship and silence. She’d found them all with this man. And for a moment, she pushed aside her fears and just let herself revel in the quiet rightness of the moment.
And for the moment, that was enough.
Chapter Nine
It wasn’t until the last child sat on Santa’s lap and received his present that Libby breathed a sigh of relief. Santa was leaving, the presents had all been handed out and people were helping themselves to the brunch.
Josh had been right; they hadn’t forgotten anything. The Christmas party was over and had been a great success. Now her job with Josh was done.
Thank goodness.
She was relieved, she assured herself. Oh, she’d still see him, at least for a while. Neither of them had gotten kissing out of their systems quite yet. But eventually they would, and then they’d gradually see less and less of each other until finally they were just neighbors, just members of the Perry Square Business Association.
“Libby?”
Libby realized that Mabel was at the microphone on St. Gert’s auditorium stage and was saying her name.
“Libby? Yoo-hoo.”
Libby gave a little wave back, feeling a hint of warmth creep into her cheeks. Everyone was looking at her.
Josh sidled up at her elbow. “She wants us on the stage, and I don’t think she’s going to let us off the hook. Mabel is persistent.”
Persistent? No, Mabel was a pain in the butt. “What does she want?”
“How do I know?” Josh whispered, leading her toward the stage.
“Josh and Libby, on behalf of the Perry Square Business Association, I just want to thank you for the marvelous afternoon.”
Applause filled St. Gert’s hall.
“We wanted to do something special for you in appreciation.” Mabel beckoned at someone offstage. Pearly and Josie—her hair an extrabrilliant shade of red in honor of the holiday—came across the stage.
Libby felt an acute pang of panic. The three of them looked way too pleased. “I don’t like the looks of this,” Libby muttered to Josh.
Josie and Pearly handed Libby a piece of paper.
Mabel said, “The PSBA has arranged for a night out on the town for the two of you. A night to just kick back and relax after all the work you’ve done on the party. Leo’s Limos has donated a limo for an evening out on the town. And Waves has donated a five-star dinner. So the only worry you’ll have is picking the date to go. It’s not much of a thanks, but we wanted to do something to let you both know how much we appreciate all your hard work on our behalf.”
Everyone applauded and there was nothing that Libby could do but smile and thank the terrible match-making trio. She could see through them. Everyone in the room could see through them and this blatant attempt to make sure she and Josh still saw each other now that their job was over.
“And we’re baby-sitting Meg, as well,” Pearly whispered. “So you’ve got no excuses.”
No excuses maybe, but someday soon Libby was going to have her revenge. All three were single ladies and what was good for the stylist was good for the employees and the acupuncturist. Oh, yes, she would have revenge, and it would be glorious.
Josh stepped up to the microphone. “Thanks, everyone. I’m sure Libby and I will enjoy ourselves. And I’d like to thank you all for making me feel like I’m a part of the community. I hope to be a part of the PSBA for years to come.”
“You two work well together,” Mabel said to Libby as they walked off the stage.
“Yes, but now it’s over, except for the cleaning up.”
“Pearly, Josie and I are taking Meg to the mall, then dropping her off at the Hendersons, remember?” Mabel said.
“After we’re done cleaning up, right?”
“Now, Libby, we’d stay and help, but you know how the holiday crowds can be at the mall. We want to get up there and get started, or we’ll never finish before they close. You know how long Meg takes to deliberate over everything. It’s even worse when it’s your present. Last year we must have gone into every store, and then returned to half of them before she made up her mind.”
“You’re going to leave me to clean up all by myself?”
Mabel had said she was good at delegating and it was obvious she was.
“Josh will stay.” Mabel’s grin held no apology for her blatant manipulation.
Of course. This was just another way to throw her together with Josh. Well, this time Libby could take it. After today the matchmaking trio would no longer have the party as an excuse to get the two of them together. Neither would Josh.
Neither would she.
She’d miss him, she admitted to herself—and only to herself. She’d miss him and his kisses.
“Fine.” She shooed at Mabel. “Just take Pearly, Josie and Meg and go. Just leave all the work to me.”
“And Josh,” Mabel reminded her.
“And Josh what?” Josh asked, joining them.
“Mabel, Josie and Pearly are taking Meg shopping and leaving the two of us to clean up.”
“No problem. I think it looks worse than it is.”
Libby glanced around the room and snorted. Oh, it was worse all right, and she wasn’t referring to the mess the PSBA had made of St. Gert’s. Her emotions were even more of a mess. She was giddy one moment, annoyed the next and frightened out of her socks the next.
“You four just go on and have fun,” Josh said. “Libby and I have it all under control here.”
They spent the next hour picking up wrapping paper and sweeping the floor.
“I never understood wrapping presents,” Libby said while tying off the umpteenth garbage bag. “All you end up doing is throwing all that p
aper away. I think it’s just the paper industry’s conspiracy, a way to sell more paper.”
“Personally I’ve always been all for shopping bags.” Josh finished tying his bag off and tossed it on the pile.
“Me, too.”
“Another similarity,” he said triumphantly, as if he’d been keeping a list. “Have you noticed just how many things we seem to have in common?”
“No.” Libby pushed a cart of folding chairs toward the wall and out of the way.
“We both drink our coffee black.” Josh slid another cart of folding tables next to the wall.
“So does half the country.” She wiped her hands on the seat of her slacks. “I think we’re about done.”
“We both like old movies, too.” Josh had obviously been giving their similarities a lot of thought.
They’d watched Miracle on 34th Street the night before and again he’d looked suspiciously close to tears when Natalie Woods got her house.
That Josh was a closet sad-movie-crier was an endearing secret, one that Libby enjoyed. Watching him discreetly sniffle his way through a film was almost as much fun as watching the movie.
“That’s a classic. Everyone likes it,” she protested. Too bad there was no real Santa, someone who could make dreams come true.
If there was a real Santa, what would she wish for? Would she wish for Josh, for the happily-ever-after that she used to believe could really happen? Libby shook her head. No, she didn’t believe in Santa, or in dreams come true. Libby might believe in a happy-for-a-moment, but had learned the hard way that happily-ever-afters only happened in fairy tales.
“Oh, no. Not everyone likes classics,” Josh assured her.
“Classics and coffee. That’s two very broad likes. You’ll have to do better than that.”
“We both like Meg.”
Libby finally grinned, allowing herself to be pulled into the game. “Of course we both like Meg. How could anyone not like Meg? She’s extraordinary.”
Josh closed the distance that separated them. “Okay,” he said huskily, “how about we both like kissing each other?”
