Huh. That was quite the comparison. He could be right though. Back then she could always count on Josh being there no matter what. He was her rock. She’d missed having him in her life so much, it was as if he’d left a physical hole inside her heart. A hole that had slowly healed over time, though the scar was still there.
Having Josh in front of her again—being sweet, laughing with her, reminiscing, reminding her exactly what she missed about having him in her life—scared her to death.
She missed his friendship. She wanted it back. She wanted him back in her life. But what if he didn’t feel the same? What if he didn’t want to renew their friendship?
Mindy didn’t know if she could take Josh leaving her again.
Well, last time you left him.
Right. She didn’t need the reminder. She never said she was a particularly smart teenage girl when it came to relationships. Why had she been so blind to what Josh offered her? “So you’re calling yourself an old, ratty sweatshirt.” She was teasing. Josh was the farthest thing from a gross, old sweatshirt.
“Yeah, I guess I am. But one that always feels good, you know? One you can count on.” His eyes lit with humor, and he raised his brows, his lips quirking into a smile. “Right?”
“I’ve never seen a guy so pleased with being compared to an old piece of clothing.” Shaking her head, she laughed, loving how light she felt. How easy it was between them.
Comfortable. Warm. Like her favorite sweatshirt.
Mindy frowned. Josh Powers was quickly becoming her new favorite old thing—and that might be a very bad thing.
Something shifted between him and Mindy when they were washing dishes. The conversation had turned serious, full of regret for their p
ast mistakes. Also full of ridiculous analogies on his part that had made the both of them smile.
He’d liked it. He enjoyed spending time with Mindy; he always had. Once upon a time, he’d believed her the perfect girl for him. He’d gone so far as to put everything on the line and tell her exactly how he felt. And that had totally backfired. When she ended up with someone else, he’d figured she wasn’t the one. He’d eventually find the woman meant for him.
But he hadn’t. All these years later and he was still single. Still okay with it too…mostly. He’d dated plenty, had even been in a couple of serious relationships. He wasn’t one of those guys afraid to say I love you and had done so but never too lightheartedly. He’d had a steady upbringing and wasn’t scared to open his heart to a woman either.
There’d just been no woman who’d interested him enough to make that ultimate commitment to and marry. He’d preferred the single life. Or so he’d thought.
A couple of hours with Mindy, spending time with her in her house, watching her cook, eating with her, helping her clean up, brought back a flood of good memories. Reminded him just how much he missed her, enjoyed being with her.
Not to mention the sexual chemistry between them. When they stood at the sink washing dishes together, when their fingers brushed under the water, it had felt like a jolt of electricity buzzing through his veins. Her scent, the way she looked at him, the sound of her voice…
He could easily find himself falling for her again. Maybe he was right now…
Did she feel the same? Probably not but hell, he was most likely speculating anyway. Getting caught up in old feelings and memories, thinking they had a chance when it was so very clear they didn’t.
Once they’d finally finished cleaning the dinner dishes, they set up the cookies and frosting at the table, the two of them quietly going to work on decorating the cookies, Christmas music from Mindy’s iPhone playing in the background. Just as he remembered, the cookies were melt-in-his-mouth delicious, buttery and sweet, and the frosting was good, too. He ate one for every three he frosted, laughing when Mindy glared at him, pointing her green-frosting-covered knife straight at him in an accusatory way.
“I saw you eat that cookie, Joshua Powers. I believe it’s the third one you’ve devoured in fifteen minutes.”
“And I’ve frosted at least ten.” He waved a hand at the cookies he’d already finished, which sat on the cookie sheet. “You’ve frosted what, three?”
His gaze dropped to the paper plate Mindy was using to set her frosted cookies on. They were like little works of art, frosted carefully, sprinkles scattered across the top, whereas he’d just frosted and moved on like he was some sort of machine.
“Well, they are a little prettier than mine,” he conceded when she hadn’t said anything.
She set a pretty green tree with red and white stars sprinkled on top on the plate, watching him with both brows raised. “A little prettier? Josh, your cookies are sort of…clumpy-looking.”
“Fine, a lot prettier.” He sighed, then snagged one of the clumpy-looking cookies off the pan and shoved it in his mouth. “And clumpy is definitely edible, I might add,” he said once he swallowed.
Shaking her head, she started in on another one, her knife moving precisely over the cookie. “You haven’t changed a bit. All about getting it done and not paying attention to the details.”
“What are you talking about? I’m all about the details.” Now he was offended. He was an arson investigator for God’s sake. Looking for the details was what he did for a living.
“Not when it comes to frosting cookies.”
“I don’t need to make them look pretty. They taste so damn good, no one’s going to notice. They’ll be too busy shoving them down their throat like I am.”