Page 75 of Free to Live
Joe sets Grace down and says, “Why don’t you go play until dinner, baby? Holly and I have a few things to talk about?”
“Okay!” She gives my legs a squeeze before racing off to her bedroom.
Dropping an arm around my shoulders, he guides me into the kitchen through the family room. It’s not the first time I’ve been to Joe’s in the months we’ve been friends, but it feels like it all over again. I spot the picture of Mary on the mantle and desperately send her a mentalHelp me! What the hell is going on here?But of course, she doesn’t answer.
“So, after he called you and left you utterly confused, Brett called me. Is Coke okay? I don’t want to drink with Grace around.” Joe reaches into the fridge to offer me a red-and-white can.
“Sure.” I look for a place to drop my stuff since Joe’s already set the table.
“Shoot. You take this; give me that.” He hands me an unopened can of soda. I’m so anxious, I drop it to the floor while Joe heads back into the living room with my things. Deciding to let it sit for a moment, I place it on the counter.
When he comes back and finds I haven’t opened my drink, he demands, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I’m just overwhelmed and petrified right now is all, but Joe spies my drink and doesn’t take it that way.
“Holly, I didn’t invite you here to torture and torment you.” He makes quick work going over to my drink. “I invited you here…”
“No, Joe! Wait!” But it’s too late. He’s already popped the top and soda sprays everywhere. It’s on both of our shirts, in his face and hands, and on the counter. “I tried…” But the giggle escapes. His beautiful blue eyes narrow at me. I bite my lip, but another laugh comes out.
He steps closer. I snicker. The look on his face is pure outrage, but it’s not like I shook the soda. I try to explain, “That’s why it was on the counter—to settle.”
“Uh-huh.” He still advances. I bite my lip to keep the laughter in because it really is funny when his eyes shift from outraged to seductive.
Holy crap. My back hits the wall. I’m surprised and a little disappointed, to be honest, when Joe doesn’t come into my space farther than to tug at my lower lip.
“I thought I told you to stop doing that. You really are going to hurt yourself.” I suck in a breath so hard, it’s audible.
“You remember?” I would have thought there was no way he remembered anything about that night.
Anything.
Bracing his arm to the left of me, he leans in slightly. “Hols, I’ve drunk with the best—and the worst—of them. That night with you didn’t even rate against some of the drinking they made me do as a probie. Think frat-boy drinking and amp it up by a factor of ten with running drills and climbing stairs with hoses added in for fun. Not only do I remember every single minute of that night, but I’ve also been kicking myself in the ass wondering if you’ve hated me for it.”
I shake my head. “I thought it only happened because you were drunk,” I whisper.
The fingers of his other hand play with the fine hair at my temple. “Before this goes any further, let’s talk, okay?”
I nod.
Dropping his fingers, he tugs at my hand. “Come on. I’ll get you a clean shirt to wear while I throw that one in the wash.”
* * *
Soon,Joe and I are ensconced on the sofa in his living room while Grace is happily chattering with Elmo. I’m wearing one of Joe’s CFD T-shirts, and it looks like a mini dress. Until I slipped it on, I never realized quite how broad his chest really is. Or at least I never admitted it.
“It’s always been hard for me to talk about Mary,” Joe starts. I’m pulled out of my thoughts, and I swivel around so I’m facing him. “I loved her, Holly. I’m never going to deny that or denounce it. She was beautiful and sweet. I’ll miss her every day for the rest of my life.” His eyes drift over to where the picture of Mary and Grace sit on the mantel. “But it’s different now than it was when I first met you. You helped me keep moving forward somehow. And I’m grateful for that.”
Gratitude? Oh, God. Do I really want to hear this? I keep my face expressionless as he continues.
“I realized my feelings for you started to change the day Mary’s parents attacked me about you at The Coffee Shop,” Joe states matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?” I don’t even try to keep that in. Both things in that statement are shocking.
His lips tip up slightly. “Which part of that are you asking about?”
“Both, but talk to me about Mary’s parents. I don’t even know them. Do I?”
He shakes his head, “Not that I’m aware of. And that’s only part of what infuriated me so badly. You have no idea of the stuff they said about Grace; about you.”
