room was small, the furniture cheap, but overall the place looked clean, despite the faint stale scent hanging in the air. Gretchen set the tote bag holding her belongings on top of the bed.
Josh stood outside the room, his arms crossed in a defensive way that defied her to even try to talk to him. She’d seen him assume that same stance at college a hundred times. The hard-edged look that said he didn’t give a rip about anything or anyone, so you had better keep your distance.
“This OK?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” she assured him.
“Good. I’ll be going, then.”
“You won’t leave me, will you?” she blurted without pausing to think he might take her question differently than she intended. “In the morning,” she clarified. “You’ll still be here, won’t you?” The thought of not seeing him again hit her with a pain she hadn’t anticipated.
His features softened fractionally before he spoke. “I’d never do that. I said I’d deliver you to your family, and I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Out of gratitude, or perhaps relief, she walked across the room and hugged him. He returned the gesture with what felt like reluctance. Once she was in his embrace, she closed her eyes, savoring the closeness.
“Good night,” he whispered, and kissed the top of her head.
“Good night,” she returned, stopping herself from asking a series of unnecessary questions, which she knew would only have been an excuse to delay him. She didn’t want to think of him out there alone on the beach, but she couldn’t stop him from going, either.
After what seemed like an inordinate amount of time, they dropped their arms and stepped away from each other. “I’ll shower here in the morning, if you don’t mind,” he said.
She nodded and clenched her hands, already missing him—and he hadn’t even left.
He hesitated for a moment, then was gone.
Alone in her room, Gretchen was certain he’d wanted to tell her something. She’d recognized the look in his eyes. But whatever it was he’d decided to keep it to himself.
She showered, enjoying the glorious sensation of standing under the spray and letting it splash over her face. She slipped into her pajamas and used a sweater for extra warmth. Then, sitting on the bed, she watched TV and brushed her hair, or what there was of it. She wondered how long it would take her to get used to its being this short. Josh had worked miracles with the hack job she’d done. She sighed. For two days they’d spent nearly every minute together, and without him there to share these quiet moments, it felt as if a part of her was missing.
The program ended, and she was about to turn off the television and go to sleep when a loud knock sounded against her door.
She scrambled off the bed, wondering who on earth could be coming to her room this late. “Who is it?” she called, making her voice sound strong and confident.
No response.
“I’m not opening this door until I know who’s there.”
Another moment passed before the answer came.
“Josh.”
Chapter 4
“Josh!” Gretchen undid the locks and threw open the door. Why was he here, especially after acting as if he couldn’t be rid of her fast enough?
“Hi.” He stood on the other side of the door, looking decidedly uncomfortable, as though he wasn’t entirely sure himself why he was there, either.
“Come in.” She stepped aside to let him pass, yet he made no move to venture farther than the doorway.
“I can’t,” he muttered. He rubbed his hand down his face and shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts.
“You wanted something?” she asked. She drew the sweater more tightly about her and was glad she’d thought to wear socks. Frowning, she thought she smelled beer on him.
He seemed to read her thoughts. “I figured it’d take a little fortification to say what needs to be said.”
“It’s that bad?”
“It’s about what happened,” he said.
“What happened?” She wasn’t playing dumb. She honestly didn’t know what he meant.
“Us, you know?”
“About us…kissing, you mean?”
“Yeah.” He buried his hands in his jeans pockets, and his gaze stubbornly refused to meet hers.
Gretchen had never seen Josh look so self-conscious or tense. She waited, deciding to let him speak without further coaxing from her. The seconds ticked by, and still he remained silent.
At last he met her gaze and said, “Don’t put any stock in those kisses, all right?” His words were stark and half-angry.
At first she didn’t respond, but then she couldn’t keep from asking, “Why not?”
“Because,” he said forcefully, “girls like you don’t get involved with guys like me, understand?”
“Josh—”
He raised a hand, stopping her. “Let me speak. You’ve had a miserable couple of days, and—”
“But I haven’t, not really, I—” His gaze narrowed at her interruption and she shut up.
“You’re no longer engaged to Junior Warbucks. You’re separated from your family at a time when you need their love and support most. It’s only natural for you to turn to me for comfort—natural, but not advisable.”
“You’re making me sound like a child.”
“Whatever,” he announced crisply. “Listen, Gretchen, don’t set your sights on me. I’m not your type.”
She opened her mouth to argue that he was quite possibly exactly the type of man she could love, but he stopped her once again, yanking the rug out from under her feet.
“And you’re not my type, either,” he growled. “I can’t say it any plainer than that, can I?”
His words smarted, and she instinctively jerked back, as if she’d taken a punch in the solar plexus. Every breath brought her pain.
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said. “You’re a sweet kid, but it’s best to get this out in the open before you end up getting hurt.”
He thought of her as a kid! Worse, a sweet kid! He made it sound like she was in pigtails, skipping down the beach licking a rainbow lollipop.
“I
