Page 31 of The Catch

“The rooms have already been stripped to the studs. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, reaching up to touch the little statue.

Josh kept walking, leading her through a much simpler door to another steep stairwell, plain and full of cobwebs. He brushed a few of them down with his hand and gestured for her to duck her head. “This is the best part.”

She could feel the open air before she saw it. Josh stepped to the landing, ducking under a beam to let her pass, and she knew exactly where they were. “Oh my God!” she said, squeezing between him and the metal bell that was taller than her.

“Careful.” He reached for her elbow, helping her step on the old planked floor. They were surrounded by open window frames where only some weather-beaten chicken wire kept them from the outside. Josh had one hand braced on the wall, and he wrapped the other around her waist as she took in the panoramic view of the city.

“This is unbelievable!” She leaned as far as Josh’s firm hold on her would allow and searched the landscape for her favorite places. She could see her office building, and the park dotted with the white canvas tents of the wine festival they’d just left. She spotted the domed roof of the theater they were just discussing and rows and rows of cherry trees.

“They didn’t take people up here on the tour,” he said, looking pleased by her reaction.

“I wonder if my grandmother ever snuck up here.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely.” A gust of wind whipped around them, lifting her hair, and Josh’s arm contracted until she was pressed against his side. “This might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” she admitted, feeling a little starry-eyed despite herself.

“Good,” he said. “When can we do it again?”

Cat tipped her chin to look at him, her blood rushing dangerously. He was looking at her the way he had on the beach that night when the lightning had flashed across his face. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to like it way too much. Then he’d smile again and say something sweet, and she’d be done for. She was supposed to be finding something wrong with him, not making out in a bell tower.

Before she could attempt to slow herself down, find that composure she thought she’d packed, he reached a hand out, his thumb brushing against her dangly earring as he cupped her jaw.

“I like you, Cat,” he said, stepping closer and pulling her into his warmth. “Can we do this again?”

He kissed her then, lightly enough for her to answer his question against his mouth. She didn’t, though, and he did it again, this time letting his teeth graze her bottom lip. Her hands wound around his neck, and when she still didn’t answer, he deepened the kiss, taking advantage of her parted lips to let their tongues touch.

Before she could stop herself, a dreamy sigh slipped from her lungs and into his mouth, curling his lips into a grin.

Josh pulled away, waiting while she struggled to gather air. Her lack of response didn’t seem to trouble him—she’d just tipped her entire hand with that one audible expression of pleasure. Sonya was right; she had it so, so bad. The realization pulled a cold sweat from her pores. She watched him smile down at her, and she could almost feel the future pain she’d feel when looking at his face. Even this place would be ruined by it now.

“How does this go wrong, Josh?” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to break my heart. I just can’t figure out how.”

His smile shattered.

He dropped his hands to the side, and the breeze suddenly felt cold where his touch had been. “I have no intention of doing that, Catia,” he said. She couldn’t read his expression, but she had to figure he was trying to discern what kind of mental defect she had. She was sure he was going to rescind the offer, make up some plans he’d forgotten about and tell her he’d call her some time—meaning the day after never. Disappointment jabbed at her, and she rushed to close the distance he’d put between them, touching the soft cotton of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I said that. Actually, I have a thing next weekend. For work. Maybe you could come with me.”

To her surprise, Josh rearranged his shocked expression into a forgiving smile, but her accusation still hung on the slight downturn of his cheeks. “Sure. What kind of thing is it?”

“It’s a cocktail party—my boss is retiring. It’s in the West End.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“Not too bad.”

“I’d love to go with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

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