“Right. Three hours. Five hours—however long they take we can handle it. Waiting for them. Together.” She nodded once, as if she needed to convince herself.
“Yeah.” He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall above the sink. Just past five. Meaning he wouldn’t get out of here until late into the evening, if at all tonight.
A thought he couldn’t linger on because he would get out of here. He had to. What with Mindy’s nervous pacing and the way she was gnawing on her lower lip, clearly someone wasn’t happy to be with him.
He hadn’t realized she still didn’t like him after all these years. He would never say it out loud, but that hurt.
“Well, I do have the cookies that still need to be frosted.” She waved a hand toward the stove, where a stack of sugar cookies in various holiday shapes sat on a cookie sheet. She’d made dozens of them from what he could tell. And there were bowls sitting on the counter, plastic wrap covering the tops. He figured that was the frosting.
A memory came at him, one he hadn’t thought of in years. “We used to frost cookies all the time when we were kids,” he said.
She smiled. “Yeah, we did. You used to eat as many as you frosted though.”
“You were just as bad.”
“Maybe, but I ate two to your twenty,” she pointed out.
“I was a growing boy.” He patted his stomach, noted the way her gaze dropped to where his hand rested on his belly, her cheeks turning pink when she jerked her gaze up to meet his again.
“Do you want to help me frost them? Maybe after dinner?” She glanced over at the stove, a little huff of laughter escaping her. “I might let you take a few home.”
“Wow, really? I don’t know, Min. Will you have any to spare?” He teased her and damn, it felt good. From the way her smile brightened, he figured she enjoyed it too.
“I think I could let a few go,” she said, amusement lacing her tone.
They stared at each other for a moment, the kitchen gone silent, the moment heavy with that warm, familiar tension that always used to brew between them. He’d felt it so strongly the last year or so they hung out together, and he’d figured she’d never noticed.
But had she? Maybe she hadn’t wanted to ruin their friendship by taking their relationship further. He’d been so full of hormones, he’d not really cared…
“Are you hungry? It’s a little early for dinner, and I sound like a senior citizen who prefers the early bird special, but, you know…the power might go out. And I don’t want to take that chance, so maybe we should eat now?”
She was rambling. A definite sign she was nervous. “Sure. I can always eat. Want some help?” He approached her and she sidestepped him, going for the pantry.
“I’ve got this handled. Let me rummage around and see what I can come up with. Trust me, I’ve been making meals for a bunch of hungry males for years,” she called from within the pantry.
And for years, Josh had been a pro at avoiding her. Her big brother and his friend, Patrick, had moved out of Lone Pine Lake years ago, which made it incredibly easy for him to avoid the McKenzies. Yeah, he, Mindy, and Marty had graduated from the same small class, but Josh had left right after high school. He’d become a seasonal wildland firefighter and worked at a ranger unit in northern California. He’d transferred all over the place until he ended up back home a few years ago.
Facing his past hadn’t been easy, but he’d dealt with it. Not like he had a lot of old demons here. His childhood had been pretty awesome if he was being truthful. Just the usual screwed-up teenage angst stuff, like pining for his best friend who had no interest in him beyond friendship. Who’d ended their friendship because she’d been too far gone over a guy who ended up hurting her.
How he regretted that.
That he still let this sort of thing bother him made him feel immature. But being around Mindy made him revert to the age of seventeen, all hot and horny for the one girl who didn’t seem to realize he had a major crush on her.
If he was being honest with himself, he could admit that he still had a crush on her. She’d grown prettier with age. Curvier, too, and his hands were itching to touch her. But she wasn’t interested in him. She seemed like she wanted him out of here as fast as possible.
Well. Great. He felt the same exact way.
Really.
…
Mindy rummaged the shelves of her pantry, thankful she’d pulled out some chicken early that morning and defrosted it. She could make something decent with the chicken. Rice maybe? Potatoes? She needed something quick and easy and that would taste good so she could impress Josh with her cooking skills…
Closing her eyes, she let her head fall so her forehead pressed against the edge of the pantry shelf. She was being ridiculous. Who cared what Josh thought of her cooking? In fact, when they’d been kids, she’d cooked for him plenty of times. Rather terribly, though he hadn’t complained whatsoever. She used to take care of him a lot when they were in their teens. Until she met Marty and he swept her off her feet, made her think that they could really have something amazing.
She’d been such a fool. Falling for a smooth talker who always told her what she wanted to hear. Instead she could’ve had Josh. She’d always liked him. He’d always been there for her no matter what. He’d finally worked up the nerve and confessed to her how he felt—right after Marty told her he didn’t want her hanging around Josh anymore. She’d been so confused by Marty’s demand, so shocked that Josh would say he wanted more, that he’d actually tried to kiss her, she’d crushed his dreams and told him she only liked him as a friend.
God, she’d been so stupid. Josh had been right there for her all along and she’d taken him for granted. Thought she needed the new and shiny versus the quiet and dependable. But that’s what happens when you’re young…