Breathe In (Just Breathe, #1)(75)

“Just fine, Mr. Joseph,” Anna replies.

I giggle at hearing her call him Mr. Joseph.

“What’s so funny?” he inquires.

“Nothing, Mr. Joseph,” I echo Anna’s words.

This gets a laugh from Anna before she says, “I like her, Mr. Joseph.”

I can’t help but laugh again before pondering her chosen words.

“Me too,” Joe asserts, looking right at me.

To redirect the conversation I indicate, “I need to take Sadie out.”

Joe studies me for a second like he’s contemplating on whether to say something or not. He silently accepts my announcement and has a look like he’s deciding on whether or not to join us. A few seconds later, Joe hesitantly returns to our friends, looking over his shoulder just after he pass through the doorway.

Being outside with Sadie alone is refreshing and gives me time to think and calm down. I’m not really agitated anymore, but being alone helps me digest everything, especially the fact that Joe now lives in Pasadena. Why Pasadena? Seriously!

Once Anna lets us back inside, Sadie darts down the hallway to Joe who is hovering in a doorway.

“Where is everyone?” I ask when I get closer to him.

“Getting the tour,” Joe says, pointing down the hall and then resumes petting Sadie.

Instead of joining the rest of our friends, I turn towards the living room to snoop. My attention is captured by a variety of framed pictures that sit on some built-in bookcases near the piano. I pick up one picture to examine it further. It consists of a large group of people all of different ages.


“That’s my family,” Joe comments, scaring me. He takes a step closer, causing his shoulder to brush slightly on my back before resting his hand on my hip.

I’m temporarily distracted by his close proximity, but I’m able to focus enough to catch the majority of the names and faces of the people in the photo. I’ve never been this aroused during that time of the month.

Everyone in the photo looks genuinely happy. I put the picture back and continue looking at the others as Joe stays close. My attention immediately goes to a photo of Joe sleeping while holding a resting baby girl.

“That’s my niece, Lily,” he indicates.

“Which one?” I tease.

He moves closer. Close enough that I feel something rub against my ass before I notice his right hand on my waist.

“What are you doing?”

He chuckles, “Nothing.” His smooth cheek brushes mine.

“Joe.”

“Shhh,” he mumbles, squeezing me tighter.

I feel and hear him breathe me in and I can’t move. I let him stay right where he is holding me. Why? My brain stops talking when the memories of being in bed with him at Nathan’s and the kiss after our recent date come back in full force. My figure soaks up the convergence of our bodies and my mind is conflicted between my physical desire for him and my need to distance myself. I can’t let him too close. I can’t let him in.

“Joe.”

“Mmm . . . .” His left hand is now on my waist and his mouth sweeps my skin just under my ear.

The clamor of our friends’ voices in the hallway snap me back to reality. As I pull away from Joe, he does the same for me, giving us enough distance to compose ourselves. I would almost think that he doesn’t want to get caught either. Joe sits on a nearby chair and pets Sadie while I continue to scan the bookcase until our friends are in view.

Before everyone gets comfortable, Anna announces that dinner is ready. We follow her to the dinning room where a table that seats eight easily and is dressed with a feast large enough for Thanksgiving dinner. Joe takes the head of the table, followed by Jimmy, Allen, Maggie and Henry to his left which leaves me to sit on Joe’s right followed by Jared and Nathan. Why do I have to sit right next to Joe?

Everyone exchanges more stories and topics of discussion as we eat the mountainous meal. At some point, we all agree to stay in for the night to continue chatting and to have a mini pajama party in the living room. As everyone continues to sit and talk around the dinner table, I habitually stand up to clean.

“What are you doing?” Anna asks with surprise when I enter the kitchen.

“Cleaning up,” I declare, now questioning my own actions. I place the dishes on the counter waiting for her to move.

“Go enjoy yourself, Ms. Emma. I’ll clean up when everyone is finished,” she instructs me.

“We are finished. And, that hardly seems fair.”

“Why is that?”

She’s clearly puzzled by my response.

“Because you cooked it. We should at least help clean.”

Giddy from my statement, Anna reminds me, “It’s my job.”

“So. That doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

“You are a guest. You are not expected to cook or clean the dishes, Ms. Emma.”

“I know,” I agree with her. “But, as a guest I have the right to choose to help, and, that’s what I choose.”

A confused and concerned expression rolls upon her face. She clearly doesn’t know what to say or do. The sound of the sliding door behind me grabs our attention. Jimmy and Joe are now behind me.

“Everything okay?” Jimmy inquires.

“No,” Anna declares with some trepidation.