Page 48 of How You See Me
“What are you crossing off the list there?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll find something. Have any—”
“There you are,” Josie says behind me.
I pivot toward her voice, completely unprepared for what I see. My chest aches from a lack of oxygen, but I can’t pull in enough air to remedy the issue.
Josie is dressed for our night out in frayed, cut off jean shorts—short enough to showcase all her tanned thighs—and a tight, pale-pink tank withGIDDY UPprinted across her chest in playful brown letters, matching her new cowgirl boots. Most of her hair is down, except for the top now pulled back into a little high ponytail with a thin, white ribbon.
Pure trouble in feminine form.
Ava’s still talking in my ear, but I can’t comprehend any of the words. The phone slides out of my hand, and I catch it before it crashes to the sidewalk, bringing my dignity down with it.
“Oh, sorry,” Josie mouths, noticing I’m on the phone. As she backs away, her hands stay hidden behind her. That can’t be good.
Clearing my throat, I turn away since I can’t put together coherent sentences with her in my view. “What did you say, Cupcake?”
“Where you’re going now?”
“Out to dinner.”
“Mom’s cooking us spaghetti with meatballs.”
“Yum. My favorite.”
“No, it’s not.” She giggles, making me forget the temptress behind me. “You hate pasta.”
“It was a test. You passed. I plan on ordering steak and a baked potato.”
“Sounds more like it.”
“Mom said I can have a little ice cream if I eat good tonight. Maybe you could get some, too.”
I try not to cringe at the thought of mixing beer and ice cream, but my entire body goes all in anyway. I have no control over myself these days. It’s all Josie fault with how easily she disrupts my norm. “Not sure I’ll have room for all that sugar after my big steak.”
“Send me a picture if you do.”
The sound of her little yawn pushes through the speaker.
“Guess I should go. Enjoy your pasta and dessert. I love you.”
“Love you more.”
Pocketing the phone, I try to steel myself before facing Josie again. The memory of her standing under the store awning, looking irresistible and happy to see me, messed with my head. She’s not the kind of woman you forget—even when you know damn well you should.
I head toward her, and she beams bright enough to rival the morning’s sunrays, her hands staying hidden. “I got you something.”
She holds up a card that reads,Welcome to the Club, Cowboy,then grabs my hand.
Before I can protest or investigate the card’s meaning, I’m dragged into the apparel shop and directly to the cashier.
The woman behind the counter, with her weathered skin, no-bullshit demeanor, and gray hair in a tight bun, looks like she’s been stationed here since the day the town was founded.
Her dark eyes travel over me. “I get what you mean,” she tells Josie, like I helped solve a riddle, then disappears into a storage room or something similar behind the counter.
My gaze bounces to the instigator, questioning what she’s gotten me into now. “What’s going on?”
“Patience, Sergeant.”
