Page 81 of Melting the Ice

“Go cleanse yourself, and you’ll feel much better tomorrow,” she teased.

“You are super annoying right now. I’m over here trying to process what just happened, and you’re laughing at me,” I said, trying to keep humor from my tone. I wasn’t that shook up, but it definitely wasn’t as amusing as she clearly felt it was.

“I’ll let you process. Get some sleep and text me tomorrow if you’ve recovered.”

“Just for that, you cannot touch yourself until I get home. And if you do and I find out, I will edge the hell out of you until you’re begging me to let you come. Have a good night, Hurricane.”

I felt slightly better as her lips parted, and her cheeks darkened right before I ended the call.

Of course, now I was hard as stone.

Fucking hell.

JOSIE

“Shoot,” I muttered, looking at the time on my phone. I’d gotten distracted finishing up some new branding for Elaine and now had less than thirty minutes to get ready for my shift at Tipsy tonight.

Today had been a constant stream of work, but I’d loved every second of it. I’d only had three dogs to walk today, and thanks to the super snowy and windy weather, the walks had been quick. Then, Wally had taken two spins around the rooftopgarden before he was ready to go back to snoozing in front of his fireplace. But the weather also meant that Micah and the team hadn’t been able to get out of Chicago until about twenty minutes ago to fly home, and I’d be at the bar by the time he walked through the door.

I’d been hoping for a midafternoonnapwith him before I had to leave. I’d kept my hands in PG areas after his extra hot demand the other night, even though I’d been tempted to ignore his request. I mean, how would he even know if I got myself off, anyway?

But there was something delicious about holding out. I did a little shimmy in my seat.

My phone vibrated next to me, but I knew it wouldn’t be him since he was up in the air. I glanced at my phone, groaning, when my mom’s picture popped up.

I tapped it on.

“Hi, Mom,” I said. I should’ve let it go to voicemail, but I’d avoided the last three calls, so I knew I’d better answer this one. I figured I could at least rush her off because I had to get to work.

“Hi, honey. I’m surprised you picked up.” She might have sounded sweet, but the immediate judgment was there.

“Um. I’m actually getting ready to go to work, so I can’t talk long,” I said.

“Which job this time? The bar? The same one from last week?” The condescension was grating.

“Yes, Mom. I’m still at Tipsy and loving it.”

“But for how long? You need to get a stable job. A real job, Josie.”

“Bartending is a real job, and they even gave me benefits.”

“The sass is unnecessary,” she said.

Is it?

“I just worry about your future. Ray has a great teaching career. Your father and I have wonderful, successful jobs.”

“That you hate,” I muttered.

“What?” she asked, even though I knew she heard me. Her hearing rivaled that of a bat, which, according to a very precocious eight-year-old that I’d nannied for last year, had the best hearing in the animal kingdom.

“Nothing. Mom. I have to get ready for work,” I said.

“How’s Blaine? You haven’t brought him up in a while,” she asked.

Crap. The hits just kept coming from her today.

“Uh. We broke up.”

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