She stood, hands on hips. “Promise me you’ll behave. No showing off for Miss Lola. Not tonight, anyway.”
“Joselyn Marie.” Her father scowled up at her.
“Don’t Joselyn Marie me.” She glanced behind her to see Hunter coming from the kitchen, no Eli or Lola in tow. “Thanks for stopping by, Hunter.”
He nodded, his smile tight, eyes burning. Was he mad?
“Need my purse,” she murmured, hurrying into her room. She ran her fingers through her hair, put on some lip gloss and earrings, and
checked her reflection. She grabbed her purse and headed out, dropping another kiss on her father’s head and calling out, “Thanks again, Lola.”
She left through the bakery, catching the door before it slammed. She fumbled with her keys.
“You don’t really have to lock up out here,” Hunter said.
She spun around, dropping the keys. “Habit,” she managed. “Did I get the right baby locks?”
He bent, picking up her keys. He nodded at the toolbox on the porch, then looked at her. The heat in his eyes, the hunger, stole the air from her lungs.
“You need anything? Supplies?” she murmured as his eyes slowly explored the details of her face.
He shook his head, stepping closer and offering her the keys.
She took them, the brush of his fingers against hers stirring a tantalizing awareness along her skin. It wasn’t fair, that he affected her like that. One little touch and she shivered. “It’s cold,” she lied.
His eyebrow arched.
She scowled at him. “Night.” She forced herself to take one step, then another, and another.
“Have a good time tonight, Jo.” His voice was husky.
“Thanks.” She didn’t look back as she headed down the sidewalk to the pool hall on the far side of the square.
* * *
“SO HE’S AT your dad’s house, cleaning up dog throw-up and putting up baby locks, and you’re here with me?” Annabeth took a long swig of her bottle of beer. “What’s wrong with this picture?”
Josie finished off her beer. “Absolutely nothing.”
Annabeth groaned. “You have a warm-blooded man waiting and willing and you’re not tossing his butt into your bed?”
Josie shot Annabeth a look. “Because I’m getting drunk with you.”
“Then let’s go.”
“I can’t.” Josie shook her head, peeling the label off the beer.
“You can, Josie.” Annabeth took a deep breath. “I’m going to say something really harsh here, okay?”
Josie looked at her. “Um, no, thank you.”
“Tough. You’re being ridiculous.” She shook her head, blinking back the tears in her eyes. “Don’t you get it? I’d give anything to have someone to go home to. You’re choosing to be alone when you have this amazing, loyal man—”
“Annabeth.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I am.”
Annabeth patted her hand. “What do you want? Do you know?”
“To get Dad on his feet again—”