“You know any nice guys?” she asked.
“I keep in touch with a few frat brothers from college, but I’m having trouble picturing you with anyone I once watched do a keg stand, then throw up on the front steps.”
“What about that guy you coach softball with every spring? Adam?”
Josh worked with kids from underprivileged neighborhoods from March to June, and Piper had met Josh’s co-coach during last year’s district playoffs. Good-looking man, but she and Josh had agreed never to date each other’s friends after an awkward situation when he’d broken up with one of Piper’s former college classmates—another casualty of the Joshua Weber charm. Piper really pitied those women.
An unexpected thought struck her. Sure, she pitied them now, but how would she feel toward his dates if he ever showed a real attachment to one of them? Her stomach churned, but she told herself it was just the stress of her reunion predicament, nothing more.
“Adam would actually be a great choice for you to take to your parents,” Josh agreed, “but he’s in Vancouver on an extended business trip until after Halloween. Besides, what would I say? ‘You remember my friend Piper—she needs a fake boyfriend.”’
“I have to find someone.” She sat back, staring blankly across the table.
What would happen if she just told her family the truth—that she was single and liked it that way? You know what would happen. Charlie. The man had blond, all-American good looks and had been born into Rebecca’s top social level. Granted, Rebecca wasn’t big enough to have many levels, but the point was, he was used to getting his way. He’d seemed more bemused than upset when she’d broken their engagement, and she got the impression he was waiting for her to come to her senses.
Josh swallowed nervously. “Exactly why are you looking at me like that?”
Blinking, she chuckled at his wary tone. “Relax. I’m not asking you to come with me. I just needed a sympathetic ear.”
He quickly replaced his guarded expression with a smile meant to be casual, but his relief was so palpable it was practically a third person in the booth. “Hey, here’s an idea, what about a man from the gym? You’re there every other morning. You’ve gotta know some guys.”
“No, I spend most of my time with Gina. Or working out alone. I avoid eye contact with men so I don’t end up trapped on the treadmill, fending off unoriginal lines like, ‘Come here often?”’
“I can’t help but notice you avoid men most everywhere you go.”
“The last thing I expected from you is the Piper-needs-a-man speech.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “I get it from plenty of other people.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that. You definitely don’t ‘need’ a guy. You’re the most together woman I know.” He flashed a wicked smile. “And I know lots of women.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Give me something to work with,” he prompted. “What did you tell your mom about this mystery man?”
“I told her he had dark hair—”
“Good. Thousands of guys must have dark hair.”
“—and that he was tall—”
He laughed. “Compared to you, everyone’s tall.”
“—and I said he had green eyes.” As the words left her mouth, she realized Josh had green eyes. Deep, forest-green with flecks of shimmering gold.
Not that she’d paid much attention.
Hating the sudden warmth in her cheeks, she blurted, “I think green naturally sprang to mind because my own eyes are green.”
“Yours are blue.”
“Blue-green.” She ducked her head. “Close enough.”
Okay, maybe she had subconsciously described a man who bore a slight, vague, infinitesimal resemblance to Josh. Made sense. He was the only guy she spent much time with.
It didn’t mean anything. Yet her pulse refused to resume its normal rate. She almost pressed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, willing it to slow. After two years of observation, Piper knew that any woman foolish enough to let Josh affect her heart ended up with a broken one.
JOSH WALKED ACROSS the nondescript industrial carpet of the main workroom at Callahan, Kagle & Munroe, absently acknowledging greetings from a couple of draftsmen at their respective drawing stations. But his attention this Wednesday morning wasn’t really on any of his co-workers—at least none of the male ones. He hadn’t been able to focus his attention on work, either, which was why he’d decided to get a soda from the vending machine, motivated more by the chance to stretch his legs than by thirst.
As he approached the break room in the back, he glanced out the floor-to-ceiling window that boasted an impressive view of Houston’s skyline. Of course, it would be even more impressive without the ubiquitous road crews and bright yellow machinery below and the gray blanket of smog overhead.
Not smog, just cloud cover. He hoped his cranky mood was due to this being the third consecutive day of autumn drizzle. Because the only other explanation for the irritability that had plagued him since seeing Piper home last night was her dating dilemma.
Her dilemma, he reminded himself. She’d said flat out that she wasn’t asking him to go with her, thank God. After the last twenty years of being on his own, Josh wasn’t sure he could stomach a weekend of parents and cousins, aunts and uncles all wanting to get to know the man in Piper’s life.
Piper would figure out something. She was a determined, resourceful woman. Too bad she was gorgeous, as well. Her intelligence and sense of humor made her entirely too likable, and when combined with the incredible body she tried to hide under severe work attire and baggy weekend clothes—
Incredible body? He was not going there. Not now, not ever.
Except that lately, he had been. A lot. In the beginning of their unexpected friendship, her no-men oath and his own contrastingly busy love life had been a sufficient buffer, guaranteeing that neither of them would get any ideas about messing up their perfectly safe relationship. So what had changed? She still wasn’t interested in romance in any form or fashion, and he still…Come to think of it, he hadn’t been on as many dates lately. When had he slowed down?
He’d never intentionally set out to break Houston dating records, but it had only taken him a couple of breakups to realize he wasn’t cut out for long-term relationships. The emotional distance that had helped protect him while being shuttled from one foster home to another didn’t work well in romances, but the loner attitude that had been years in the making hadn’t magically expired at age eighteen along with the state’s wardship.
Though women might be attracted to him, more than one had decided he wasn’t worth sticking around for; he was too used to keeping his own counsel, too guarded for “real intimacy.” Maybe he’d been hurt once or twice when a woman walked out on him, but he wasn’t complaining about the way his life had turned out. As long as he kept his relationships casual enough that no one heard wedding bells, he could have plenty of fun.
But that “fun” did not and would never include Piper. Their friendship had sort of crept up on him, originally built on a few chance meetings at their apartment complex, some venting about work and a shared affection for baseball and action movies. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their friendship—like hit on her.
Entering the break room, he reached for the spare change in his pants’ pocket, but froze when he realized he wasn’t alone. Clearly, the universe was testing him. Piper stood in the otherwise empty room, bent at the waist and peering into a cabinet below the sink. The short caramel-colored jacket she wore had risen above her hips, and the matching slacks hugged her curves in a taunting way that left him struggling not to look at her caramel-covered backside.