Junk Mail(33)

Josh is a natural with the kids, but I didn’t expect to take to them so quickly myself. When we say our good-byes before heading to catch our flight, Connor grabs my leg, begging his new aunt Peyton to stay. My heart is filled with something I can’t quite name.

“I’ve never seen the kids like that with someone new,” Josh says on the drive to the airport. “They really liked you.”

“I liked them too. If we’re in the area for business again, do you think we could go back?”

“Of course. Whatever you want.”

Whatever I want? I stare off into the rolling green hills of the wineries. What do I want? I want this deal to go off without a hitch. That would mean a guaranteed paycheck. A big one. It would mean a better life for Gram and me.

But I’ve never been the kind of woman to only want one thing. And this other thing I want, the most beautiful human being I’ve ever laid eyes on, is just ten inches away from me, the heel of his hand draped over the steering wheel, giving me the perfect view of his angular profile while he keeps his gaze glued to the road ahead.

And now I know he wants me too. Which just makes all these feelings harder to ignore.





Chapter Eighteen


Peyton



I wake up to the rattling of the plane as its wheels touch down on the runway.

I can’t believe I feel asleep. I never sleep on planes. But after Josh taught me his favorite card game, we shared a strong cocktail. I guess the combination of the alcohol and the swift relief I felt about the presentations being over were enough to send my body into total shutdown mode.

When the plane rolls to a gentle stop at the gate, I smile at how good I feel. Home sweet New York.

Well, technically, we never left New York, but the hour-and-a-half flight from upstate might as well be a return journey from Mars with how different upstate is from Manhattan. And that’s coming from someone whose home just barely falls within the NYC zip code.

That reminds me, I need to text Gram and let her know we landed.

I grab my phone and switch it out of airplane mode, then fire off a quick text. I want her to know I’m safe on the ground, but more importantly, I want to make sure no disasters took place while I was gone.

She responds right away that she’s fine, a message that she accompanies with an eye-rolling emoji and a prompt request for a ride to the senior center. I shoot back a slew of red hearts. Even though she insisted I go on this trip, I still feel like the world’s worst granddaughter for skipping town just days after her fall.

“That’s a lot of heart emojis,” Josh says. “Talking to someone special?”

I press my phone against my chest in defense. “Are you reading over my shoulder?”

“It’s hard not to,” he says coyly. “You’re lying on my lap.”

I jolt upright, my eyes nearly bulging out of my head. What the hell? How did I not notice I was practically snuggling with Josh?

“How long was I like that?” I sputter, making no effort to hide how flustered I am.

My head was inches away from his crotch, albeit through his dress pants, but still. What if he thinks I did that on purpose as an excuse to get more one-on-one time with the appendage that got me hooked on him in the first place? Embarrassment floods my cheeks, but Josh doesn’t seem to be bothered.

“Not that long,” he says with a quick shrug. “Those kids must have really done a number on you.” He unbuckles his seat belt and stands to pull both our bags from the overhead compartment. “No big deal. It was a short flight. And I didn’t want to wake you. You looked too comfortable.”

I breathe a shaky sigh of relief. Comfortable. That’s exactly the right word to describe how I feel about Josh.

When we first met and he quickly realized I was his dirty-pic recipient, things were awkward for only a minute or two before we found a rhythm between us, a rhythm we’ve maintained ever since. Even when I didn’t know where we stood, I felt unsure, sometimes confused, but never uncomfortable or on edge. I don’t know what it is about him, but when we’re together, it seems natural, like everything is the way it’s supposed to be.

Josh is a seasoned pro at navigating LaGuardia with all the flying he does for work, so I let him navigate our way off the plane and toward the nearest coffee stand. Coming out of a thirty-minute nap, I could certainly use the caffeine boost to get me through the rest of the evening. Josh puts in my usual order for a hazelnut latte; for himself, black coffee. He puts it on the corporate card, reminding me we’re technically still traveling for work until we get home.

“Speaking of home, do you need a ride back?” Josh asks between sips of his coffee.

I have to physically bite my tongue to keep myself from piping up with a comment about the kind of ride I’m interested in.

Josh catches me fighting for a response and interrupts. “Before you tell me I don’t have to, let me say it’s not an entirely selfless offer. I’d love to swing by and say hi to Gram, especially since I’m the one who dragged her roommate away for the weekend.”

I can hardly believe how thoughtful he is. Coming to the rescue the night Gram fell was already above and beyond what I could ever ask, but checking in on her afterward is downright sweet. I keep a tight-lipped smile as I take a long sip of my latte, letting the milky hazelnut taste chase away my sleepiness.