Nothing. That’s what. He couldn’t act on them. It wouldn’t be right. He couldn’t take advantage of their years of friendship—no matter what he felt.
He needed a distraction, something that would take his mind off of Micah for longer than an afternoon. He needed to get a date. And soon.
He walked toward the exit of the fire station, his shift over.
“Excuse me.”
“Yeah?” Josh looked up to find a cute blond-haired woman standing next to the fire truck holding a cake. Distraction found. Wow, that was quick! “How can I help you?”
“The fire you guys put out yesterday was at my parents’ house. I just wanted to thank you. Because of you guys, my parents are alive. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” She came closer to him, batting her eyelashes. “Here. I baked a cake for the station.”
“That wasn’t necessary, but we’ll take it, anyway. I, for one, have quite a sweet tooth.” He looked down at the cake as she handed it to him. Chocolate, frosted with the worst attempt at “thank you” written across the top. The u looked strange, different from the rest of the word. He inspected it closer, trying not to appear rude, but it had him curious. She started to giggle. He looked up to find her blushing bright pink.
“I have to make a confession. I ran out of white frosting so I used toothpaste at the end.”
“Oh.” What the heck? Toothpaste? It both grossed him out and made him laugh. “And just what made you think toothpaste would be a good idea?”
“Well, I figured that way your sweet tooth would be both satisfied and cleaned. Win-win.” A big white smile crossed her face. This girl was going to be fun.
“My name’s Josh Taylor. I don’t think I caught yours.”
“That’s funny. My name’s Taylor, too.” She flashed him a flirty grin that clearly showed she was interested. So was he. He would just have to talk to her about her multipurpose use of toothpaste.
“Well, come on in, Taylor. I’m sure the guys would love to meet you. And let’s not tell them about the toothpaste. That will be our little secret.”
He led the way into the firehouse to the common area. The guys were lounging on couches watching ESPN when they walked in the room. “Hey, guys. This is Taylor. She brought us a cake.”
That caught everyone’s attention. He couldn’t be sure if it was Taylor, the cake or the combination that brought them all to attention with a chorus of “Hi, Taylor.”
“We responded to the fire at her parents’ house yesterday.”
“Which one?”
“The one on Ninth.”
“Oh. How are they doing?”
“Good. They lost a lot of things, but it can all be replaced. We’re just happy they are both safe.”
“Do you have time for a piece of cake?” one of the guys asked her.
“No. I’ve got to get going. Thank you, though.”
“Thank you.”
“I just came to drop off the cake and tell you how much my parents and I appreciate all you did.”
“That was really sweet of you.” Craig, one of the youngest at the station, began to approach her and Josh knew he had to step in.
“Here, I was on my way out, too. I’ll walk you out.”
“Thank you. That would be nice.”
Josh guided her out of the room with a lightly placed hand on her back, staking his claim to the other guys. He glanced over his shoulder to see Craig stick his finger in the frosting, and the subsequent facial expression once he tasted the toothpaste mixed with fudge. Yummy.
“You didn’t get a piece of cake.”
He was hoping she had not noticed that.
“I’ll text them to save me a piece. I’ll be back later.” A lie. He didn’t want a piece of that cake. Not after knowing what she had used.
“Oh, good.” When they made it to the front entrance, she stopped and turned to him. Her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment before turning them up to look at him. “I’m not usually this forward...but would you like to get coffee or something sometime?”
“Yeah. I’m up for that.” They exchanged numbers quickly before she went her way and he went his. Man, he hoped this distraction worked. This was how he had handled it for the last decade. So why did he get the strong feeling it wouldn’t work this time?
* * *
Taylor sat across from him in the cozy restaurant; a question resonated in her big blue eyes. Was she asking him a question? Shoot. What did she just say? She sat there, waiting for a response from him.
She tried again. “What are some things you like to do?”
She was so sweet and innocent. She had no idea he wasn’t listening to her. He felt guilty. He should feel guilty. This was not how he typically acted on dates. It did not seem fair to her.
“I am usually up for anything on my off days. I hang out with my friends, play baseball in the summer...”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Yeah. My friends are pretty great.” Micah came to mind again. Dang, that girl could not leave him alone. “What about you?”
She was talking, and he did his best to pay attention. She deserved that much, although he wasn’t starting out too well. He had already missed a good portion of her story.
“...when my brother died, it was one of the only things that made me feel safe again.”
“I’m sorry about that... Your brother, that is.” What was it that made her feel safe?
He really should be paying attention. But as he watched her lips move, his mind was invaded by thoughts of Micah’s lips and how her bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top. And once that happened, his mind had to take a detour to remember every heated detail of their kiss. How her soft lips had responded to his. How her supple curves felt in his hands. How her body felt warm and willing beneath his.
Warm and willing? He was letting his imagination run wild, apparently. He drained his glass of ice water and motioned for the waiter to bring more.
“There’s just something about Neil Diamond’s music that reminds me of those days when my brother was still alive and my family was whole. I feel at home again, safe and secure.”
Hold the phone. She was talking about Neil Diamond?
“Do you know what I mean?” She looked at him over the rim of her glass of water. She took his silence to mean he needed further urging. “Do you have something or somewhere that makes you feel like you are safe with them?”
“Yeah. I do.” Micah.
He was a jerk, a certified jerk for taking this girl out when his heart belonged to another. His heart had no business belonging to Micah, but that did not make it any less true. He needed to work harder to change that.
“Tell me more about your brother. What was he like? Older, younger...?”
“He was older, by five years. He was in the military. That’s how he died, in the war. Before that he liked to do all kinds of things...”
She talked and he tried, but he just couldn’t pay attention. Maybe she talked too much. Maybe it was the way she talked. Maybe he was developing adult-onset ADD. It was possible. He was sure of it. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not pay attention to what she was telling him. Instead he was noticing all the people in the restaurant: