“It’s not really my business, I realize,” he said.
Was it the dim evening light making his voice sound huskier?
“But I don’t really think you are okay. Is there anything I can do?”
Josie peered up at him. He was tall. Well, she was short. So he was definitely tall next to her, but he was just tall too. He had to be about six-three or so.
“I’m…” She really did almost say fine. But at the last minute she said, “Stupid.”
Clearly that wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. “Stupid?”
She blew out a breath. “Yeah. But it’s not really anything for you to worry about. It’s not fatal or anything.”
“Is it chronic?” he asked.
And the corner of his mouth curled.
And she was never getting over this crush now.
She nodded. “I think so. At least, very long lasting.”
“How long?”
“How long are you going to be in town?”
Oops. That she had definitely not meant to say.
He frowned. “That’s a good question. But I’m not sure how it relates to your stupidity problem.”
She sighed. “I bet if you think about it you could come up with a guess.”
He did think about it. Seemingly. Then he took a small step forward. “I have something to do with your stupidity?”
Oh what the hell? He was a friend of a friend, but he didn’t live here. He didn’t know her. Her friends were going to find out soon enough—from her—that she had a thing for this guy. They were hopefully going to help her drink it away. So what would it matter if she confessed?
“You have everything to do with it.”
His eyebrows rose. “How?”
“Well, it seems that I have a little thing for you, and it was fine when you had only saved my neck. But then you started coming to the bakery and I saw you every day. But you didn’t even really want to talk to me. You definitely didn’t want to flirt. Which I didn’t love, but I could get over after you walked out with your scones and hot water.”
Why did she mention the hot water? She wasn’t sure. Maybe just because it was definitely a sign her fascination with him was crazy.
“But now you’re coming to dinner here. At this place I love with these people I love. And you’re being charming and… long suffering, which I find funny and endearing… and it just makes it harder to not be disappointed that my crush on you isn’t reciprocal.”
She took a deep breath.
“But,” she added, before he had a chance to respond, “it’s fine. I’m a grown-up, and while getting worked up over cheesy potatoes is annoying, I can deal with it.”
He seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then asked, “Cheesy potatoes?”
She nodded. He had to already think she was a little cuckoo, so what could it hurt to go all in here? “I found it sexy how you ate the cheesy potatoes.”
Yeah, that was definitely a look of surprise on his face.
“So anyway,” she concluded, “I’m not exactly fine, but I’m going to survive. Especially if you could just, you know, go back to Chicago. But until then, it will all be okay.”
There, that hadn’t been so bad. She turned and started to open her door.
“Jocelyn.”
But his deep voice—and her full name—stopped her.
He knew her full name?
She turned back. And swallowed hard. There was no way she could have labeled the look on his face, but it was… not uninterested.
“Yes?”
“You have a crush on me?”
She felt her cheeks heat a little, but she rolled her eyes. Come on. He had to hear her say it twice? Really? “Yes.”
“And you think that it’s not reciprocal.”
“Right.”
“And that’s why you’ve been acting strange tonight? Because you’ve been uncomfortable around me because you think you have unrequited feelings?”
She blew out a breath. “Is this the serious-businessman thing? Like how much you love spreadsheets and stuff? You have to go over every single point and make everything really black and white?”
His lips curled again. “Probably. Though it might also be that I want to be very sure about your feelings right now.”
“Why is that?”
“Just tell me all of that is true.”
She threw her arms wide. “Okay, fine, yes, Grant. You got it all right. That’s all true.”
“Very good to know.” Then he reached up, cupped the back of her head, stepped her back until she was against her car, and kissed her.
Oooo-kay.
So maybe indifferent wasn’t quite the right word to use.
Grant did not kiss her as if he was indifferent to her. He kissed her as if he’d been thinking about it as long as she had. And had been thinking about covering her in cheesy potatoes.
