Page 50 of Definitely (Maybe) Dating
“Twenty bucks, it’s your boyfriend,” Rebecca said.
“Ten bucks, and you have to put the pasta in the water when it boils.”
Piper didn’t wait for an answer because she knew, instinctively, it was her boyfri . . . Josh. Smoothing down her hair, she opened the door and there he stood. Wearing the hell out of a pair of black slacks, a white button up, and shiny patent leather shoes.
“Why do you look like a penguin?” she asked.
“My mom and dad used to take dance lessons at Strictly Ballroom. After he passed away, I became the Fred Astaire to her Ginger Rogers. So once a week, I become her dance partner. I forgot that this week was moved to tonight.”
Warm tingles filled her chest. “So when you said you wanted to dance with me, you mean you wanted todance. I’m afraid my dancing skills end with the Macarena and YMCA.”
“You just need a good partner,” he said, and all she could think about was him partnering her in right into a tangled sheets tango.
“Why are you back?”
Hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. “I never left. I pulled around the block, circled it three times and came back.”
“And the tux?”
“Just imagine me as 007, able to go from daytime litigator to nighttime Sinatra, all in a sports car.”
“You did all that for me?” she asked, then bit her lip.
He pushed off the railing and stalked toward her. “For you.”
His eyes did a long, slow once over, and his expression said he liked what he saw. Piper’s nipples gave an excited welcome.
The afternoon had been warm, so Piper was in a yellow tank top, denim shorts, and teal converse. Her hair was loose and finger styled, her lashes mascaraed, and her lips strawberry. On the way home, she’d parked around the corner and touched herself up in anticipation of seeing him again.
It appeared that he’d done the same.
She walked out onto the porch and shut the door, holding onto the handle with both hands behind her. It was a strategic move, so she didn’t do the whole reach out and touch someone move since she didn’t know why he’d come back.
“I didn’t want to leave until I knew you were okay,” he began quietly.
“I should be asking you that.” Getting a better look at his bruise, her restraint fizzled and she reached out. She couldn’t help herself and touched his cheek. He sucked in a breath. “Did Rebecca do that?”
“More like Owen.” He put his hand on her and held it to his cheek. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Me touching you? Not at all. I’m beginning to question my five-date rule.”
She felt the apple of his cheek rise beneath her hand. “We’ll put a pin in that and circle back, but I was referring to Rebecca staying here. How well do you know her?”
“Well enough to know she’s a scared kid who got her butt whupped and needs a safe place to sleep.”
“I think we should call her parents.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone to call. She’s clearly been on the streets for a while.”
“How do you know?”
Josh studied her as if trying to figure out how she had such intimate details of homeless teens. “I just know. If her parents cared, she wouldn’t be on my doorstep holding her life’s belongings in a backpack.”
“There’s always the teen shelter on 10th.” He wasn’t questioning her decision or telling her she was an idiot for letting a perfect stranger into her house. He was gently letting her know that he was there for her, no matter her decision.
“The bigger kids wait until the smaller kids fall asleep then steal their stuff.”
“Were you one of those smaller kids?” he asked, and she tried to hold his gaze but somehow couldn’t. “I want to know you. No judgment. No hidden agendas.”
