Page 55 of Theirs to Treasure

Chance gave her a knowing grin.

“Girlfriend, you and I are going to have to go out with Lola for margaritas sometime. I want to hear what’s going on with you and your men, if Chance can make you blush like that.”

“She’s not going out and getting advice from the two of you. We like her just the way she is,” Chance stated firmly.

“Oh, sweetie, she needs some tips on how to deal with you, and Lola Hart and I are just the girls to give them to her.” Chance groaned, while Kara laughed.

“Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.” Josie decided she definitely needed some advice, and more nights off. “Also, do you know of anyone who might be interested in a job?”

By the time they got back to the house that night, Josie had arranged for Kara’s plates to be displayed and sold at Sweet Dreams and had leads on four new potential employees. Chance carried all her treasures into his house. She hadn’t intended to spend the night again. Instead, she’d planned to come over tomorrow, when Sam returned, but somehow Chance had convinced her to stay.

“Josie, do you cook? I know you bake, but do you like to cook?” Chance asked as he dumped all her bags onto the kitchen island and started rifling through the fridge.

“I can cook. But no, it’s not something I really like to do,” she admitted. “What about you?”

“I love it. Betty taught me, and hardly any of the other kids liked to do it, so it was our special time together.” He smiled over at her as he pulled ingredients out of the refrigerator and cupboards. “How about meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and those green beans we bought?”

“Sounds great. What can I do?”

“How about you go through the cupboards and see if we have what you need to make some dessert? We have a double oven, so we can have two things going at the same time. I like chocolate,” he reminded her. She laughed. As if she didn’t recall what he liked. It was almost twenty-six years later, and he hadn’t changed. He could just give her a puppy-dog look, and she would melt and do whatever he wanted.

They worked in companionable silence, occasionally sipping the wine that Chance had poured. Josie realized she could get used to this.

“You’re thinking too hard, Zee.” She shook her head, letting her curls hide her face. He popped the meatloaf in the oven, then came over and brushed back her hair. “What? Is something wrong?” She shook her head. “Is something right?” She chewed her lip and nodded her head, but she kept her lashes down. She was having trouble meeting his eyes.

“That’s what I think, too. This is right, it’s close to being perfect, and we’ll get there.” He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “God, I love your eyes, Josie. I always know what you’re thinking, and they’re such a pretty shade of brown and gold. Like something oozing with caramel from your shop.” He seemed so sincere. And yet, Josie couldn’t shake the feeling it wasn’t true.

“Damn it, right there, I can see it! You doubt what I’m saying. What was the name of the douche bag that did such a number on your self-esteem?”

“His name was Russell. But I allowed it, Chance. It’s not his fault. It’s mine.”

Chance’s thumb stroked over her cheekbone, back and forth. “Can you please tell me why you think you are responsible for everything and everyone? Do you think it is your fault that Sam left?”

“Of course, it is,” Josie said. “If I had gotten out of his way, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and he wouldn’t have had to leave.” It had been so obvious. As soon as he started getting violent, she should have moved faster. She had plenty of experience with violence and she knew the signs. There was no excuse, even if she had been half-asleep.

“That’s what I thought.” Chance slid a soft kiss against her lips. “I know Sam didn’t mean to hurt you. I know it was an accident, but he’s out of line for not taking care of himself, and now he’s causing harm to others. He hurt you. That’s unacceptable. Even if you don’t realize it, he and I do.” He traced her lips and kissed her again. “You aren’t at fault in the least little bit.” He tapped her nose and smiled. “So, when do the chocolate lava cakes go into the oven?”

“We’ll pop ’em in about fifteen minutes before we want to serve them. How long before the meatloaf is going to be ready?”

“Forty-five minutes,” Chance answered. He paused, and Josie giggled. She was positive what he was going to suggest.

“Let’s put the cakes in now.” She laughed harder. “Is there enough for cakes after dinner, too?”

“God, Chance, are you sure you’re an adult?”

“I’ll show you my driver’s license.”

After dinner, Chance insisted on icing Josie’s arm again. “What do you mean I have to take my sweatshirt off?”

“Rolling up the sleeve cuts off your circulation above the bruise, so it isn’t helping with the icing. We need to get the sweatshirt off you.”

Josie looked at him intently. “How did you manage to say that with a straight face?” she finally asked.

“Lots of practice bullshitting in corporate America,” he proudly proclaimed.

“So, do you want to try the truth?” she asked.

“Please take off your shirt so I can see your breasts almost fall out of your corset, Zee. I’ve been a good boy all day.”