“The town needs one.” Daphne set the vibrator down on a box and reached for a folding chair propped up against the wall. “Sit, drink your coffee, and tell me everything while I unpack boxes.”
Josie explained about the kittens, the ones that didn’t belong anywhere near her friend’s toy chest. She left out the part about Noah mistaking the box for a bomb—and what they’d done during their night in the barn. Daphne didn’t need to know the details. How Josie had been grateful he’d told her to place her foot in the stirrup, how she’d needed the stability when his tongue gave her the orgasm to end all orgasms. And maybe that was a tiny exaggeration. If it really was an orgasm for the record books, she’d still be so lost in pleasure that she wouldn’t care about how he’d run away with her heart this morning, would she?
Daphne dropped a bottle of body paint on the floor. “Wait, he left you naked in a barn because the new dishwasher needed him?”
“She’s an old friend,” Josie said. Telling this story was like weaving her way through a maze. She kept running into roadblocks, things she didn’t feel comfortable revealing to Daphne—like the fact that Caroline would be arrested if anyone found out she’d run away from her duty to serve with men who’d threatened her.
“Noah’s right, you know.” Daphne bent over to pick up the paint. “He’s a jerk.”
“I know.” Josie stared into her coffee cup. “And now I need to tell that jerk, who happens to be my boss, that I can’t go back to his barn.”
“You’re falling for him,” Daphne said.
She nodded. Last night, she’d slipped a few inches closer to love.
“Shit, Josie.” Her friend’s brow furrowed with concern. “I’m sorry.”
“I landed myself here. Just like every other mess. But this time there’s nothing pulling him away. He doesn’t have to leave for basic training in a few hours. He’s not heading to war.”
“That might not be such a bad thing,” Daphne said. “If you’re falling in love—”
“I’m not ready to get my heart broken again,” she said flatly. “So this time, I’ll have to push him away.”
Please let me be strong enough.
“You can do it.” Daphne reached for another box. “After everything you’ve conquered? Telling that jerk to fuck off won’t be a problem.”
“As long as I don’t mix up the words. One look at him, Daph, and I might say ‘fuck me.’ ” She stood and scanned the unpacked boxes. “I’d stay and help, but I really need a shower and maybe a nap before my next shift. Next time?”
Daphne nodded. “I’ll save the edible underwear section for you.” She picked the vibrator up off a closed box. “But you should take this. To help you keep your hands off a man who thinks it is appropriate to leave you alone in a barn wearing your birthday suit.”
“Caroline knocked on the door—”
“Stop defending him.”
“He had to leave.” Plus, they were lucky the dishwasher had stayed outside. And that her gun was in the safe. Not that the AWOL marine had a reason to shoot. But if something had pushed Caroline to seek Noah out, she was probably feeling closer to her GI Jane–meets-wood-nymph persona than her recently adapted position as Big Buck’s freckle-faced dishwasher.
“When you told me that you planned to ask him for a job at Big Buck’s I thought he might be good for you.” Daphne plucked a plain brown paper bag off her desk and slipped the sex toy inside. “That he would help you move on from all that pain.”
“I am moving on,” Josie said, hoping her voice hadn’t wavered. She could tell herself she was strong enough to move forward, to put the past behind, just a few more bills to pay and she could shed the guilt, bury the pain—but that didn’t mean it was true.
“I visited you in the hospital, remember?” Daphne had softened her tone. “And afterward? When you refused to leave your apartment?”
She nodded. No one else, aside from the food-delivery men, had witnessed her hopelessness. She’d avoided her father’s calls. Dropped out of school and cut ties with her college friends. She’d isolated herself from the rest of the world.
“I know you’re fixated on paying your bills—”
“I have to do something,” Josie said.
Daphne held out the bag with the vibrator. “Call me tomorrow.”
“You want a status report?” she said, eyeing the bag.