Page 3 of Someone to Call My Own
“Sunshine, are you touting my attributes to the pizza delivery guy again?” Detective Wyatt asked as he came down the stairs. Josh opened the door wider, and Gabe locked eyes on me. “Oh, hey, you’re the new guy who moved in next door,” Gabe said cheerfully. “Gabriel Wyatt.” At least Gabe had no problem shaking my hand.
“Emory Jackson,” Josh said in an annoyed voice as he introduced me.
“Look, Sunshine, he brought your favorite wine,” Gabe said, unknowingly betraying his boyfriend.
I looked at Josh in confusion. Why would he lie to me about his wine preferences? It wasn’t like I had a right to call him on it, and what good would it do if I did? “Sunshine, huh?”
“Yep,” Gabe said, proud of the name he’d given his boyfriend.
“I just bet he’s a ball of fire,” I commented. My eyes widened when I realized how suggestive my statement sounded. “I-I didn’t mean sexually.”
“Why the hell not?” Josh demanded. “You don’t think I can burn shit down?” I could tell Josh was working himself into a good fit. “I burn hotter than you could possibly handle.”
“Take it easy there, Stud Muffin,” Gabe said good-naturedly. “He wasn’t insulting your sexual prowess. I think our new neighbor just meant you’re a feisty guy.”
Josh pinned me with a death glare and said, “Iamfeisty. All the time and everywhere.”
“I think I made the wrong impression here,” I told them. I pushed the bottle of wine toward Gabe, who graciously accepted my offering. “I’m hoping not to make an ass of myself the next time we run into each other.”
“You’re fine,” Gabe assured me. “We’re all good.”
I looked at Josh for several awkward heartbeats. “No, but we will be in time,” I told them before I turned and walked down the steps of the back porch. “Nice shirt, by the way.” I don’t know how I was able to remain serious with that large blow dryer on the front of his T-shirt that read: Want a blow job?
I laughed the entire way home, although I wasn’t sure why. I had moved to a town where I knew no one, the residents watched me with cautious eyes, and the one guy I felt I needed to befriend didn’t like me at all. I looked up to the sky and said, “I’m trying, River, but could you send me a sign?”
The next morning, I set out for a run. It had once been a passion of mine, and I hoped to fall in love with it again. As I approached the coffee shop called The Brew, I saw that Josh was standing outside having a heated argument with a sleazy-looking little man.
“Who do you think you are, you little fa…”
“Is there a problem here?” I bitingly asked, cutting the man off before he could finish. “Josh, are you okay?”
“We’re fine,” the sleazy jerk said, stepping back. “Thanks for clearing the air, Josh.”
“Anytime you need me to straighten you out.”
“Wow, that was intense,” I said once we were alone. “I’m sorry that I interrupted you, but I feared for that man’s safety if he let loose the word he was about to use.”
“I wouldn’t have hit him no matter how badly I might’ve wanted to,” Josh told me.
“I was thinking more along the lines of what your boyfriend would do to him,” I said, adding a rueful smile.
“Yeah, there’s that,” Josh agreed.
“Not that I don’t think you can handle yourself,” I amended quickly. “You were doing fine all on your own.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” Josh asked. Before I could answer, he spoke again. “Listen, Buddy and I were on our way to your house.”
“You were?”
“Yes,” Josh answered, reaching into the bag and pulling out a bakery box. He held the box out to me and said, “A peace offering from me for being a jerk last night.”
“I’m allergic.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Josh said, pulling the box back then realized by the smile on my face that I was playing him. “You don’t even know what’s inside.”
“I know things,” I said jokingly, but the smile slid off my face when Josh stiffened. “Did you research my name, Josh?”
“Asks the psychic,” he mumbled.