Page 46 of Fate In Fiction

“Whoa.” I laugh the comment off. “I can’t even succeed at being the fun uncle, according to my niece. Nailing the uncle title is still under construction.”

“Of course! No need for babies right away. Those can take time,” her father adds, then winks at Josie, who is still rock solid. “Have you been managing your work/life balance now that it’s been a year of working in this position?” The mayor finally switches the topic.

“I have. A new schedule has been made, allowing me to get home earlier and spend dinnertime and evenings with your gem of a daughter.” I turn to face Josie, and as she looks my way, my lips press against her forehead with another gentle kiss all on their own.

“Is it too soon to listen for wedding bells?” her mother chimes in with a wide smile.

“Mom!” Josie shakes her head. “We just moved in together.” Damn, they are just desperate to have another elite join the family.

“I love who I’m becoming because of your daughter. Who knew simple things like lying in bed talking into the late hours of the night about life and favorite childhood memories, could make me feel like I’m more than a handsome, rich lad.” A nervous laugh resonates in my chest, but I mean every word as I stare into her eyes. “Good things take time.”

“Or lock it down while you can.” Mayor Callahan laughs, unknowing how much of a pig I think he is.

“Dad, don’t scare him off.” Josie gives her father a pointed look and, surprisingly, he backs off.

“Let’s have dessert!” Julianne looks around at all of us, reading the room well. “I have been watching the chef make this Danish pastry all day.”

Shortly after dessert, we head back home. Josie twiddles her thumbs, face tense in a way I think she’s holding back tears. I wait until we pull into the hotel and the car is in park to say anything. The glow of the parking lot lights reflects through her glassed over eyes. Maybe seeing her family again made her miss living at home. No family is perfect, but I did rip her out of her lifelong bedroom and sister.

“Hey.” My arm reaches over, rubbing the back of her soft curls. “I thought tonight went over really well.” She takes a large inhale and nods as a smile overtakes her face.

“It did. Really well, actually.” She unbuckles her seatbelt.

“But?” I know something is wrong.

“But nothing. All is going to plan.” She looks me in the eye, and I want to push further. “We should head inside.”

“I’m sorry for having you end up living with me. You probably miss home.” It’s a longshot, but maybe she’ll admit the real reason.

“Oh, please.” Josie shakes her head with a real laugh this time. “I love my sister, but I am so happy to leave that house.” Her head tilts to her shoulder, stretching out her neck. “My parents seem to only think about themselves, and it’s maddening sometimes. But I’m fine. I swear.”

A lie, but I let it slide.

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight. You need a proper bed, so your body doesn’t give out while you give your hiking tours.” She opens her mouth to protest. “Hiking is your income. Sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

* * *

Thanks to working through lunch and sticking to my new schedule, I’m unlocking the door an hour earlier tonight. Music plays through the suite, and I pause at the sight before me. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, but creeping up on her might scare her off—even though I have every right to enter my own place.

My eyes trace over the woman in my kitchen, wearing a white oversized button-down shirt hanging half off her shoulder. Her collarbone steals my attention as my brain short-circuits to what her skin tastes like. Josie’s legs are half covered with her knee-high socks and I question once again if she’s wearing shorts. The stem of a wineglass rests between her fingers as her palm loosely cradles the glass. Her messy bun flops about as she lifts the glass in the air to the chorus of the rock song playing in the background, making me smile.

Dipping her finger into the large baking bowl as she sways to “Am I the Only One” by Melissa Etheridge, she spins my direction on the balls of her feet. Her finger remains in her mouth as her eyes widen, stumbling as she nearly spills the wine. Josie’s gaze remains glued to mine and, slowly, she slides her finger out of her mouth. I shouldn’t feel my dick getting hard from someone who isn’t legally allowed to drink––in this country, anyway—but that action is hard to ignore. My eyes swing to the wineglass and I hold back a disapproving look, to which Josie huffs with an eye roll. So, I guess I didn’t hold it back.

“Ugh, get over it.” She brings the glass to her lips for another sip.

“I didn’t say anything.” Not until I walk farther into the kitchen and see what bottle she opened. “Do you know exactly what kind of wine you’re drinking?”

“Yeah, iths red.” She slurs her word while holding out the glass.

“That’s a Sloan Proprietary, Josephine.” Of course, she wouldn’t care to know yet. “That bottle is over six hundred dollars.”

“Ha, complains the spoiled rich boy who is ‘dating’ me so his released funds can buy him a helicopter.” She hands me the glass. “I don’t like the taste of this anyway, so it’s all yours.”

“You’re not one to drink.” She hasn’t spoken about the dinner, but the way she shut down on the drive home last night crosses my mind.

“You’re not one to be home this early,” she points out, and I realize I won’t be getting a proper answer out of her. “What if I was walking out of the shower naked?”