Page 61 of Say it Ain’t So

She let out a light laugh when I shook my head, some of the lightness from earlier returning to her eyes.

“You’re fascinating,” I told her, smoothing my thumb along her fingers. “People are fascinating, but none more than you.”

Pink tinted her cheeks. The way the sun shone through the windows, landing on her, made her glow. “What about you? What’s your favorite hobby?”

“Learning about people.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Seriously?”

“Well, right now it is. But if anyone else were to ask, I’d probably say rock climbing.”

She perked up at that. “I’ve never been.”

“It’s a blast. I’ve tried getting Weston and Zane interested, but I don’t think they like that they’re not as good as me.”

Joss let out a laugh that had my heart skipping a beat. “Ego much?”

“Not so much ego as the truth. They’re decent enough, but they don’t spend every spare moment they have climbing walls and hanging off cliffs.”

Didn’t need her to know this little hobby of mine grew as a way to distract myself from thoughts of her. I couldn’t think about the pain of losing her while I was hanging from my fingertips from the side of a mountain. It took all my focus to make sure I stayed alive.

Not that it always worked. I’d had enough close calls to last me a lifetime.

Luckily, I was saved from elaborating when our waiter brought us our meals. This was no surf and turf, but Joss had commented how she was craving a good hamburger and I couldn’t let her down. We both dug in, enjoying our food and drinks, enjoying each other’s company in a way I missed.

I missed being able to talk to Joss so freely. This secret between us—that we were married, that we knew each other in a way no one could have guessed—hung over our heads whenever anyone else was around.

Hell, even this date was a secret. Joss told me that she almost let it slip to Van that she was going out with me, and the embarrassment on her face ate at something inside me, leaving me with an all too familiar feeling I’d been living with my entire life.

Toward the end of our meal, after the waiter brought a second daiquiri and another beer for me, Joss excused herself to use the restroom. It was nearly impossible not to follow her, to make sure she wasn’t slipping out on me again. As I watched the hallway she’d disappeared down, I was tempted to call Pops.

I needed him to tell me what to do. I needed him to tell me it was going to be okay, because the pit that developed in my stomach when she disappeared from view kept telling me I’d lost her again.

A sharp breath left me when she rounded the corner and stepped my way, and it didn’t want to return. She stole it from me. If I thought she glowed earlier, the dying sunlight left her looking like a fucking angel as it hit her beautiful skin.

Rising as she neared, I pulled out her chair and helped her into it, so damn tempted to curl myself around her and hold her so she could never leave me again.

I knew I was fucking pathetic. That I was so completely lost to her that I’d never be whole again.

I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

After we’d finished our drinks and paid, I tugged Joss into a little chocolate shop we’d passed on our way in. She hadn’t noticed, but I’d been thinking about the chocolate covered strawberries they’d had sitting in their window, and I knew I had to have some.

The only problem with that was the memories it brought up. The way her lips curled around the dark chocolate, her teeth tinted red from the sweet flesh of the fruit, reminded me of how she looked in Vegas after devouring the strawberries I’d bought her, her eyes heavy while she laid naked in my bed.

I wanted her there again, and that was a problem. Because I’d promised myself too many times that tonight would not end that way.

Instead, I took Joss outside and over to the Polk Bros Park. A nice, relaxing walk would get my mind where it was supposed to be. On connecting with this beautiful woman’s mind, not her body.

Unfortunately, nature had other ideas. No sooner had we stepped foot onto the grass of the park that the sky opened up and dumped a frigid rain down upon us.

“Oh my God!” Joss exclaimed as I climbed into the driver’s seat of my truck after we’d ran back to the dry safety of the parking garage. “Where did that come from?”

I started the engine and turned on the heat, then looked across the cab to her. She was drenched, head to toe, her long hair clinging to her face, her dress stuck to her skin as water still ran down her in rivulets. I wasn’t much better, my clothes soaked through. “There was no rain in the forecast. I promise, I looked.”

Joss threw her head back and laughed, baring her delicate throat.

No bruises.