Page 20 of Loving Josy
I pause at the door, glancing back at her. “Anytime, Josy.”
With that, I step out of her office, my heart still racing from being so close to her. Today might have been about business, but I’m not giving up on breaking through that wall she’s built between us. Not yet.
Chapter Nine
Josy
If it weren’t for the fact that there’s no one else available to remodel the space for my coffee shop, I would have never found myself in this fucked up situation. How dare he think he can just waltz in here and offer me charity? Who does he think he is? As if I’m some damsel in distress waiting for him to swoop in like a knight in shining armor. That’s not how things work, not for me.
My hands are trembling as I slam the folder shut. The nerve of him to think he can just do this for me out of the goodness of his heart. I don’t need anyone’s help—least of all his. I’ve been handling my life just fine, and I’m not about to let Noah swoop in and make me feel like I can’t manage on my own.
He’s always had this way of getting under my skin, making me feel things I’ve tried so hard to bury. And now, here he is, acting like he’s doing me some grand favor. I don’t want his pity. I want to stand on my own two feet without feeling like I owe him anything.
But here I am, stuck in this situation with no one else to turn to. I need this renovation done, and I need it done right. If it weren’t for that, I’d tell him to take his charity and shove it.
Taking a deep breath, I try to calm down. I’ll pay for his work, and I’ll stay out of his way. That’s the only way I can keep my sanity intact. Now that I think about it, since he’s the one who’ll be doing the work, I won’t have to see him that often. It’s not like he’s going to drive all this way just to have lunch at this coffee shop. I guess I’ll have a reprieve from seeing him every day, which is a relief.
The one thing that does ease my mind is knowing that since Noah will personally work on the shop, it’s going to be top-notch. Whatever else I might feel about him, I can’t deny that he’s damn good at what he does. So maybe this won’t be as terrible as I’m making it out to be.
For the past couple of weeks, Noah has been keeping me updated on the shop’s progress through pictures, which I appreciate, but they only tell part of the story. Today is Saturday, and I can’t resist seeing it all for myself.
When I pull up to the shop, the first thing I notice is the music blaring from inside. An old-school rock anthem that instantly takes me back to our teenage years. The door is slightly ajar, and the scent of sawdust and fresh paint drifts out, pulling me in. My heart races, but I tell myself it’s just the excitement of seeing the renovations. It has nothing to do with him.
Stepping inside, I follow the music and the rhythmic clatter of tools. It doesn’t take long to find him. In the bathroom, Noah is crouched over a line of freshly laid tiles, shirtless and focused, his back turned to me.
The sight stops me in my tracks. His muscles ripple with every movement, his skin glistening under the soft glow of theoverhead light. My mouth goes dry as my gaze roams over his broad shoulders, his tapered waist, and the way his black pants sit just right on his hips. I didn’t know backs could be this distracting.
Heat creeps up my neck as a dangerous thought flashes through my mind:I want to lick every bead of sweat off that man.
I should leave before he notices me, but my feet are rooted to the floor and my eyes betray me, drinking him in like I’ve been wandering in a desert.
He turn in my direction and looks up suddenly, his sharp brown eyes locking onto mine. For a second, he freezes, and I wonder if he’s as startled as I am. Then his lips curl into a grin that sends a jolt straight to my chest.
“Josy,” he says, his voice tinged with surprise and amusement. “You scared the hell out of me.”
I manage a shrug, aiming for casual even though my insides are in chaos. “Just checking to make sure you’re not slacking off.”
His grin widens as he grabs his phone from his pocket and silences the music. “No slacking here. You know me, I always deliver.”
I should say something witty, but my eyes betray me again, flicking back to his chest. He catches me, of course, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in that maddeningly cocky way.
“Like what you see?”
Heat floods my face, and I roll my eyes in a desperate attempt to deflect. “Please. Put a shirt on before you give someone a heart attack.”
“That’s not what it looks like from here.” He stands, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands, the movement making every muscle in his torso flex. “It looks like you were enjoying the view.”
He laughs when I don’t respond, the deep sound vibrating through me. “You sure you want me to cover up? You might miss all this.” He motions towards his beautifully muscular torso.
“Yes, Noah. Now.” I cross my arms, but my voice lacks the authority I was going for.
With a mock salute, he reaches for his shirt, pulling it on deliberately slow. The smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“There. Better?”
“Much,” I lie, even though part of me hates that he listened.
He steps closer, the air between us charged. “You look beautiful today.” His tone is suddenly softer.
