Page 40 of Definitely (Maybe) Dating
“What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Working. But I’m free next Sunday.”
“Then, sadly, it would have to be a good pair of hiking boots.” He took her hand and tucked it back in his pocket. “Do you like hiking?”
“I’m a photographer, I live outdoors.” She was beyond touched that he was inviting her to be a part of a tradition that reminded him of his dad. “And I have an excellent pair of hiking boots.”
“What started your boot habit?” he asked. “Unless your shoe fetish is off limits.”
There was a lot about Piper that was off limits. But tonight, with him, she wanted to make a connection. “I was five and they were rubber. Army green and black camo.”
“Birthday present?”
“Lost and Found. They were two sizes too big, but they’d looked tough.” Something she’d desperately needed to feel at the time.
One look at the already-worn galoshes, and Piper was hooked. Lost and Found boots began a yearly back-to-school tradition, which lasted until Piper was fifteen and her mom’s newest boyfriend became tired of looking without touching. Piper had snuck out the window, made her way to Portland, and celebrated her newfound freedom with her first pair of never-before-worn boots.
They were steal-toed for impact, jet black, and the kind of kick-ass that made her feel invincible when she’d slid them on. And they’d only cost her a night in juvie—since she’d neglected to pay for them on her way out. But the owner had cut her a deal, landing Piper with her first ever job and her first ever pair of ass-kicking boots.
A lot had changed in Piper’s life since then, but she never left the house without a spare pair of boots.
“From the southern accent, I’d have thought cowgirl boots.”
“I’m from Georgia, but my accent only slips when I’m tired. Most people don’t even hear it.”
“Georgia peach.” He nudged her playfully. “Did you know peaches are my favorite fruit?”
“Again, you need to up your flirting game.”
“Okay, so no funny business, but flirting is allowed?”
Indecision weighed heavily, nearly pulling her all the way under the water so that the oxygen deprivation made flirting with Josh seem like a good idea. She took her phone from her bag and dialed. His phone rang and his grin went into a full-fledged smile.
It rang a second time. “You might want to get that. It could be important.”
Gaze locked on hers, he ever so slowly reached inside and pulled his phone from the pocket. “Josh Easton, Assistant District Attorney and professional chauffeur. What can I do for you?”
“You can ask me to dance.”
“I’m a little busy right now, filing suit against Fate, Satan’s Keeper and raging assholes of all kinds.”
“Actually, I’m calling to talk to Josh Easton, the guy who gave me his card.”
“Hold please.” He handed her the phone then went about unbuttoning the top button of his shirt and, Lordy, if Josh the ADA was hot, then Josh the laid-back single guy who wanted to dance was smoking. He took the phone back. “Hey, Piper. I was hoping you’d call.”
“You’re not even going to pretend it could be some other girl you met at the party?” she asked into the mouthpiece.
“Nope.”
That was it. One word. But it was delivered with so much conviction Piper could scarcely breathe.
“Well, what I wanted to say is—” Actually, Piper didn’t want to say a thing. She wanted to feel. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
“What do you want to do?”
She took an instinctual step back, because no matter how badly she wanted to kiss him, she knew it was a colossally stupid idea.
“Don’t over think,” he said, stepping into her until she was flush against the trunk of a walnut tree, the soft glow of the moon spilling around them. “Just tell me what you want to do.”
