Page 29 of The Catch

“Pick up pretty girls at bars.”

She nudged his knee and laughed girlishly. Apparently, her impervious wall of composure was made of paper, and Josh was a strong breeze.

Josh unwrapped his fried taco and pulled out the tomatoes, dropping them into the cardboard serving box. “I play poker once a month, surf, watch baseball, run.”

A vision of him running toward her on the beach popped into her head; sweaty and testing the limits of his t-shirt, definitely burning off fried food and cream sauces. Another memory of him waist-deep in the water quickly followed, his wet trunks clinging to his thighs. Her cheeks flushed and she took a sip of beer. “Running isn’t fun,” she said.

“I guess you’re right. How about you? Give me some ideas.”

“I…” She scanned her brain, expecting to easily supply him with a hobby or activity she enjoyed, but nothing came to mind. “I study and work,” she said with a frown.

“Sounds like you need to take up running. Have a little more fun in your life.”

She laughed, meeting his eyes again. “What about your family? Big? Small?”

Josh flicked his eyes away before answering, and she didn’t miss the gesture. It was the same break in connection that he’d made when she’d asked him about moving there as a kid.

“You’ve met them,” he said. He ran his thumb absentmindedly over the scar on his lip as he answered. It was the same thing he’d done when he’d asked her to see him before she left the beach. She wondered if he knew he did that or if it was more of a nervous tic. “Dylan and Shawn are my family. I’ve known them both since freshman year in college, and they’re like brothers to me.”

“But you don’t have any real siblings?”

“No. I was an only child. My parents died when I was twelve.”

She watched the statement travel across his face, but like a stray cloud on a sunny day, it disappeared just as quickly. “I’m sorry, Josh.” God, she was good at this. Between the ex-wife talk, and now this, she should get a prize for most wounds pressed on a first date.

He kissed the top of her head, absolving her. “It was a long time ago.”

“Is that why you moved here?”

“My grandfather took me in. He was in his seventies. He did his best, but he had no business raising a kid. I just tried to be as helpful as I could and not cause him any trouble. In return, he put a roof over my head and used his Navy pension to pay for my first year of college. What about you?”

“I have a huge family.” She started counting cousins in her head as she prepared to shock him with the reach of the Roday family tree branches. “My grandmother was Catholic—the kind that puts her faith over her sanity. I think she was pregnant half of her life.”

Josh snorted a little laugh, sipping his beer and waiting for the rest of the story with a wistful look in his eye. Maybe it was insensitive to tell an orphan about your eight aunts and uncles and the seventeen children between them. She couldn’t help but think that if anything had happened to her parents, she and her sisters would have had an army to care for them.

“Do you see them often?” he prodded, noticing her sudden reticence.

It was too late to stop now. He could probably see her heart dancing in her eyes from the minute he asked. “My parents live in the city and I see them frequently. My two sisters are married with kids, so I see them less—I’m the youngest. Holidays are… big.” She smiled at the thought, and so did he. She wondered what holidays looked like for Josh.

He took another bite of his lunch, letting the subject drop. “I’ve done some work in this area,” he said when he finished chewing.

“Yeah?”

“The theater two streets over. It was a historic renovation. I did the plans.”

“I’ve been there,” she said excitedly. “Before and after. You did nice work.”

“Thanks. The new tower of condos a few blocks up was mine too. There’s a lot of regulation in this part of town, making sure it maintains its atmosphere. But it’s nice to work on something more interesting than a box with windows.”

Cat nodded, imagining him hunched over a drafting table, drawing some of the buildings she passed by every day. “What’s your favorite project you’ve done in the city?”

She watched his face react to what she assumed was a mental catalog of options. “I think it’s The Abbott Building,” he said. “We’re working on it now. It’s an old convent turned senior living.”

“I know it, actually,” she said. “My abuela—my grandmother—used to live there.” Josh’s face flashed with confusion, and she smiled. This story was one of her favorites. “She was a nun for a few years before she met my grandfather. He was a congressman.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, it was scandalous. They worked together helping a local immigrant from Mexico who was trying to get his wife and family citizenship. The family was reunited, and my grandparents fell madly in love. She left the convent and became a politician’s wife.”

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