Page 5 of Definitely (Maybe) Dating
“Who doesn’t love a good finger painting?” She lifted a single, sexy brow.
“I guess it depends on who’s the canvas.”
Not sure how she felt about that or the growing tingles, she said, “I’m Piper. And I’m late.”
“I’m Josh, and I guess I’m your driver.” He reached out his hand. “You headed to the party?”
“I’m shooting it.” She lifted the camera bag, then looked at his still outstretched hand. “I would shake, but my hands are covered with—”
“Peanut butter,” he said, and something playful lit his voice. “I saw.”
Well, wasn’t that embarrassing. She wondered what else he’d seen. The way his eyes held steadfast, almost as if he was fighting the urge to veer south told her he’d most likely seen some pink and black silk.
Oh, lucky day!
“I’d offer you some but…” She pointed over her shoulder to the peanut butter sized roadkill on the ground.
“You’re mourning the peanut butter but not the dress?”
“I have other clothes in my bag. But that was my emergency peanut butter,” she said.
“That would make me the jerk.” He rested an arm on the window and smiled. At her. As if their meeting was serendipitous. “How can I make it up to you?”
“How good are you with zippers?”
2
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“Beg your pardon?”
Josh Easton was rarely, if ever, caught off guard. His ability to anticipate a person’s every move was what made him so effective in the courtroom. But nothing about this woman was expected.
After the past few moments, Josh found it somehow refreshing.
And sexy, he had decided. Did he mention curvy? Even beneath the conservative black dress, he could tell she had one hell of a body. But it was her mouth that drew him in. Full and lush with a whole lot of ‘tude. Josh didn’t normally do ‘tude, but this woman wore it well.
Then there were those eyes, more green than brown, and as close to bedroom eyes as he’d ever seen. Making the part of Josh, which had felt suffocated since the day his dad had passed, want to say he was a zipper grand master. Especially if she was referring to the one that started below the hint of partially hidden ink on the back of her neck and ran the length of her.
But the other part, the one that knew all actions had consequences, caused him to hesitate. Because while Josh prided himself on satisfying a lady’s needs, the last thingheneeded was to accidentally undress Darcy’s photographer.
“My dress is a disaster and has to go, but the zipper is stuck.” She reached behind her back and tugged at the zipper, which did amazing things to her front. It also sent her bags tumbling around her. “See my problem?”
Oh, he saw all right. Just like he saw a flash of neon pink lace.
“I got a little overzealous trying to change my tire and, well,whoops.”
A pretty spectacular whoops if you asked him. In fact, one well-timed tug of that zipper and the entire dress would fall off her shoulders, showing him if she liked to match her bra to her panties.
“I can’t stroll in late looking like I slept in the gutter,” she said. “Not that I’m late. I guess people started showing up early. So even though I’m technically on time, I’m the one somehow arriving late.”
With a smile, she opened the back door. There was flurry of bags and fabric rustling behind him, and the next time she spoke she was in the back seat—of his car. Making herself right at home.
“And don’t get any ideas. I wouldn’t ask for your help, much less get in your car, but I hate being late and Jillian vouched for you. So we’ll have to make this fast.” She scooted herself to the middle of the seat and twisted until her back was facing him. Long, soft brown waves with chunky dark blue streaks spilled down past her waist. She glanced over her shoulder, and those light hazel pools hit his and he caught a flash of something. The teensiest of diamonds pierced her nose. “So about those zipper skills?”
Right.
Josh cleared his throat. “You’re going to change here?”
