Page 30 of Built of Illusions

Nico looked down at her and shrugged. “Funny, I don’t remember. No one could take the game seriously when we had mud in places that should never see mud. All we did was laugh that game. Good times. Tell me one of yours.”

Josie shook her head. “Sorry. No muddy football games for me.”

He squeezed her biceps. “And here I thought you’d been a linebacker.”

Smiling, she flexed her arms. “Right. I never played sports as a kid.”

“I bet you spent a ton of your time drawing.”

Another smile. “I did. I had one teacher who would sneak me extra notebooks and pencil crayons.”

“Was she your favorite teacher?”

“No, that was Mrs. Chaga. Middle school art teacher.”

Nico faked a shudder. “Middle school. The horror.”

She rolled her eyes at him and flicked his tie. “As if middle school was a problem for you. I’m sure you were dressed for success even then.”

Nico laughed. “Well, if I’d worn a tie, I’d have had my ass kicked twice a day.”

She smiled. “I’m pretty sure that never happened. You know people, Nico. You know how to make them comfortable and get them talking. I bet every girl crushed on you and every boy wanted to be your buddy.”

Well, hell. How was he supposed to respond to that? School had always been easy for him, academically, athletically, and socially.

Josie smirked and put the photo back on the shelf.

He wished the smirk didn’t hold an edge of sadness, making him believe school had never been easy for this amazing woman. “Tell me about Mrs. Chaga.”

Her smile was genuine. “Great lady. Quiet and smart. Let kids find their own paths and passions. Able to quell the smart asses with a look and a challenge.”

“She sounds awesome.”

“She was. Still is. She’s in a retirement home in San Francisco, teaching art to anyone who wants to learn.”

“And I bet you were like a sponge, soaking up everything she had to teach.”

“Sure was. I hated when I had to leave that school, but I had almost two years with her. Even though I had other art teachers over the years, it was Mrs. Chaga who taught me everything important about art and life.”

Fascinating. Nico shoved his hands in his pockets to avoid tugging on her curls to find out how silky they were. “How did she do that?”

Josie smiled. “By asking questions. So many questions. She was always making us think. We had to evaluate our own work, find the strengths and the weaknesses. Her focus was always on what we’d learned from creating the piece and what we would do differently the next time.”

“She sounds amazing.”

Josie looked up at him with a smile. She sparkled and Nico flicked his gaze to her lips and back up. When the smile sparkled, he leaned down.

As their lips brushed, more sparks ignited.

And the doorbell rang.

Cursing, Nico kissed her lightly again and went to get the tacos.

Josie was mostly glad about the interruption. She wanted to keep kissing Nico. She wanted to do a whole lot more than that with him, but she didn’t want to have sex with him for the first time because she was scared to be alone. And she didn’t want him feeling sorry for her when they jumped into bed together.

She needed to sleep first and make sure her head was in the right place. Then she could jump him. Smiling at herself, she poured a couple of glasses of wine and curled up on the couch.

Nico had bought chips, queso, guacamole, and salsa along with the tacos. It was surprisingly easy and comfortable sitting on his couch and eating together.

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