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“Someone stopping by?” he asked.
“Shit,” she squealed, then almost tripped over Sprinkles and ran back into the bathroom.
“Come in,” she heard her dad call out. Or go home. She pulled her thick robe on and picked through her brown curls quickly. She rolled her eyes at her reflection. Chill. Relax. She straightened her shoulders and opened the door.
There was no help for it. She’d have to walk past the living room to get to her bedroom. Which meant Hunter would be treated to a view of her wrapped in her fluffy black-and-blue bathrobe. She could almost hear her mother scolding her. A single woman must always look her best when keeping company with a handsome man. Josie sighed, grabbed an extra towel and started drying up her watery path from the bathroom to the hall.
“Oh, hey.” Hunter laughed. “You really were in the shower.”
She turned, one eyebrow arched, all sarcasm. “What makes you say that?” A boy peered around Hunter then. And Josie felt her irritation slip.
This was him... Hunter’s son. She felt pain. Pain she thought she’d worked through years ago. She stared at the boy.
The boy stared back. He had Hunter’s intense gaze and startling eyes.
She held up a finger. “Let me get dressed.”
“We’re not going to stay long.” Hunter’s voice was soft.
She pulled her gaze from the boy, her toes curling into the area rug beneath her feet. “Well, you’re going to have to give me a second because I refuse to have a conversation with someone while I’m wearing a robe. Okay?” And she needed a minute to get a grip. She half ran to her room, almost tripped over Sprinkles again and closed the door without a sound. “Shit,” she murmured with feeling.
Dad needs me. That’s why I’m here. I don’t have to do this float or spend time with Hunter...or his beautiful son. But I do have to take care of Dad.
She pulled on her underwear and dug through the suitcase, then the piles of clothes all over her room. She sighed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a thermal shirt. A quick search unearthed her fuzzy pink bunny slippers, which she slipped on while she headed back to the waiting crew.
“It’s the best I could do in two minutes,” she muttered when she saw her father’s disapproving glance. “I’ll put on my hoopskirt and pearls next time, okay?”
The boy smiled briefly, while Hunter laughed.
“Nice to meet you.” She stuck her hand out to the boy. She couldn’t ignore him—she didn’t want to. He looked like a Boone, which was a good thing. If he’d looked like Amy... She swallowed. “I’m—”
“Joselyn,” her dad offered.
“Or Jo,” Hunter added.
“Or Josie, even.” She rolled her eyes.
“Eli,” he said, shaking her hand quickly. He nodded and then sat by her father on the couch.
The door opened and Josie felt a moment’s panic as she spun around. If it was Amy—
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Joselyn Stephens.” Two hands picked her up, holding her eye to eye with a large wall of a man.
“Fisher?” She couldn’t believe this...this person was Hunter’s little brother. “What happened to you?”
He smiled. “I drank milk.” He pulled her into a bear hug.
“By the truckload?” She hugged him back. “You look great.”
“I do.” He nodded.
She giggled, stepping away from him as he put her on the ground. “At least your sense of humor hasn’t changed.”
“Not that I mind you all stopping by, but can we start over so I know what’s going on?” her dad interrupted. He was a stickler for his routine. The bakery opened at six, so he was in bed by nine each and every evening. She glanced at the clock. It was ten after nine.
Hunter spoke first. “Christmas float time. FFA met tonight and came up with a few ideas. One of them was to build something around Josie’s story characters.”
Josie didn’t know where to look. If she looked at Hunter, she felt...all sorts of conflicting and overwhelming things. If she looked at Eli, she felt empty. And if she looked at her dad, she felt rumpled and unattractive. Fisher was her only option. He winked at her when she glanced his way. It helped.
