toward the door. “Happy spooning.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay. The barn it is.”
“Uh-huh. I thought I already made that clear. I didn’t go
save you from your truck to let you sleep in the barn.”
I pinched my nose harder. “Then where do you want me to
sleep?” I knew it was a dumb question, but I needed Josie to spell it out for
me.
“Wherever you want, so long as it’s on this side of that
door.”
I silently groaned and let out a string of curses. As miserable
as my truck had been, it beat sleeping in Josie’s room by a mile. There was
hell, and then there was Josie’s room. It was the last place in the world I
wanted to be.
As rooms go, it wasn’t an offensive one. Her room had a lot
of white, lots of windows that let in plenty of light, and it wasn’t overly
girly. She still had that picture of Jesse, her, and me taken at the Fourth of
July picnic the summer we were ten. Jesse had that stupid smile on his face,
like usual. I had a scowly frown on mine, like usual. And Josie . . . well, she
wasn’t looking at the camera—she was looking at me. It was the only photo, the
only instance, where she’d noticed me when Jesse was close by. I loved that
picture.
So the room itself wasn’t a problem. It was what had happened
inside the room. Right there. On that bed. If I wasn’t so damn conflicted, I
would have needed a cold shower to calm the memories flashing through my mind.
“If you want, you can take a shower. Dad and Mom will think
it’s me, so you don’t have to worry about that. A hot shower might feel good.”
A hint of a smile crawled into position as she opened a dresser drawer.
“Popsicle man.”
“I’m so exhausted I’d probably fall asleep in the shower, so
thank you, but I’m just going to pass out if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” After pulling a couple things from her
drawer, she looked at me and twirled her finger. “Turn around, please.” My
forehead lined. She grabbed the hem of her sweater. “I’m exhausted and would
like to pass out, too. Being out half the night searching for a certain someone
has a way of sapping a girl’s energy. But I don’t sleep in my clothes like some
people. Me, I prefer pajamas.”
Oh, perfect. She was about to change with me a whole ten
feet away. The situation just kept getting better and better. Yes, that was a
whole heap of sarcasm right there. I swallowed and spun around. I cleared my
throat and tried to clear my mind of what was happening behind me. “Some of us
lost all their pajamas in a fire.”
“Oh . . . um . . . do you want to borrow something?” After
the fury her voice had held earlier, hearing it soft and quiet was almost as
alarming.
“No, thanks. I don’t think we’re the same size.”
When a pillow hit the back of my head, I turned around.
Changing time must be over if her hands were free to throw a pillow at me. When
I saw Josie, my mouth almost fell open. “I thought you said you were changing
into pajamas.”
She glanced down and lifted her arms. “These are pajamas.”
“Really? Because from a male’s point of view, that’s
lingerie. Pajamas are, you know, the flannel, frumpy things that cover lots of
skin that old ladies wear.” Shit, I was trying so hard not to check her out,
but it was impossible. A man could have held a knife to my throat and told me
to stop looking at Josie or die, and I would have been a dead man two seconds
later.
Josie gave me an amused look as she finished tossing the
mountain of pillows off of her bed. “I’ll keep that in mind. When I’m an old
woman. But right now, I like this kind of pajamas.”
Yeah, I liked them too.
Flipping her hair forward, she worked it into a ponytail
before flicking off the light switch. “I thought you said you were exhausted.
Are you planning on standing there all night?”
If I got to watch her in my new favorite women’s “pajamas,”
then hell yes, I would stand there all night. The lights might have
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