Hers for the Weekend

“Ready to order?” the waiter asked.

Piper and Josh exchanged guilty glances. Her “need a man” statement had distracted both of them from even opening their menus. As the waiter stood by, they debated what kind of pizza to get.

“We can split it,” Josh proposed. “Get half of the pizza made one way and something different on the other half.”

“No deal, Weber. Last time we did that, you tried the Jamaican chicken pizza, didn’t like it and ate all of my half. Besides, I might just get pasta.”

“Pasta?” Josh echoed. “Come on, this is the best pizzeria in Houston. You’re going to come here and not get pizza? That makes as much sense as…you having a love life.”

The impatient waiter clearing his throat stopped her from snapping a comeback.

“Perhaps I return in a few minutes?” the man offered.

Glancing from his menu to Piper, Josh said, “I know how much you like the Sicilian specialty. Want to just get that?”

Piper nodded, and the waiter shuffled off, appeased.

Josh immediately returned to the subject of her faux love life. “I don’t get it. What made you lie to your mom? You never lie. Having witnessed you turn away persistent men at Touchdown, I would even say that you’re sometimes painfully honest.”

Lowering her gaze to the red-and-white checkered tablecloth, she mumbled, “I didn’t set out to lie, exactly. I just exaggerated.”

“Piper, when was the last time you had a date?”

“Okay, fine, I lied. I had to get off the phone! She called to remind me that I’m the unmarried shame of the family, and I cracked. I told her I had to run because I was meeting someone for dinner.”

“And based on a supposed dinner date, she’s now booking a church and auditioning caterers.”

“For a guy who’s never met my mother, you have a very clear understanding of her.”

“You paint a vivid picture.”

Piper bit her lower lip. “I have a real problem here.”

“Nah, this isn’t serious. A problem was Michelle. I can’t believe she honestly expected me to remember her cat’s birthday. And stalking me for two weeks like that after the breakup—”

“Maybe if you took the time to get to know some of these women before you went out with them, you’d pick up on little things like personality disorders.” Piper hadn’t meant to sound so snippy, but it annoyed her sometimes to watch Josh waste himself on a string of superficial relationships. Didn’t he realize he had more to offer than that?

“Piper, people go out in order to get to know each other, and I’m not sure I want dating advice from a girl who hasn’t been on one since the Nixon administration.”

“Ha-ha. As if my family encouraged me to date as an infant.” Though they probably would have if they’d known then how difficult it would be to marry her off.

“What I was saying,” he continued, “is that I don’t see why this is a serious problem. Let your mom think whatever she wants. Tell them he couldn’t make it this weekend. Or that you broke up with the guy. Problem solved.”

If only it were that easy. “I would, but Mom said it would really benefit Nana to see me with—” she groaned inwardly, “—‘a good man.”’

His gaze locked with hers. “How is your grandmother?”

“Hanging in there, but…apparently not doing so well.” She swallowed. “Last time we spoke, I argued with her. She was giving me more well-meaning advice on how to live my life, and I told her I was an adult and didn’t need or want her interference. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Josh reached his hand across the table, and it hovered over hers. At the last minute he grabbed the bread basket as though that had been his intention all along.

She wasn’t surprised that he shied away. Typical Josh. Weird that he dated and kissed and she-didn’t-want-to-know-what-else with so many women, yet simple touches made him uncomfortable. Piper had grown up in a hug-oriented family herself, but she tried to respect the personal perimeter he maintained.

Though she had no trouble telling Josh about the familial reasons for needing a stand-in date, Piper didn’t mention Charlie. Josh knew that she’d once dated Rebecca’s current mayor, but Piper had downplayed the seriousness of the relationship. She was embarrassed that she, a modern independent woman, had been slowly altering everything from her work schedule to the way she wore her hair. It wasn’t something she liked to think about, let alone discuss.

“So.” Josh cleared his throat. “You’re really going to take some guy home with you?”

“If I can find one,” she said as the waiter approached. He set their pizza on the table, and Josh distributed the first cheesy slices. They ate in silence, mulling over her situation. At least, she was mulling. For all she knew, Josh was checking out a cute waitress.

To some, asking Josh to accompany her might seem an obvious answer. He’d certainly been willing to do her favors in the past—from free labor on her car to late-night assassinations of Texas-size spiders in her apartment. But this was different. While Josh came across as a people person who could shoot the breeze with anyone, he was intensely private. Piper had watched more than one woman lose him after pressuring him to “open up.” A few days of Piper’s meddling relatives interrogating him would doubtless be his idea of hell. Besides, how insensitive would she have to be to invite a man who’d never had a real family to a large family reunion?

So, with Josh out of the question, who was she going to ask? Instead of eating with her usual gusto, she nibbled her food, thinking out loud. “Most of the men I know are from work, and I can’t ask any of them.”

Josh nodded. “They might misconstrue the invitation, and you’d be in violation of the company’s fraternization policy.”

Plus she couldn’t ask any of them for a huge favor when she wasn’t exactly Ms. Popular at the office. She couldn’t afford to chat in the break room when she was determined to prove herself, to get ahead in a field dominated by men. And she deliberately minimized any feminine assets, which some people had interpreted to mean she was aloof and hard. Though she and Josh had always gotten along professionally, they hadn’t truly become friends until they’d run into each other in their building’s laundry room.

“You know any nice guys?” she asked.

“I keep in touch with a few frat brothers from college, but I’m having trouble picturing you with anyone I once watched do a keg stand, then throw up on the front steps.”

“What about that guy you coach softball with every spring? Adam?”

Josh worked with kids from underprivileged neighborhoods from March to June, and Piper had met Josh’s co-coach during last year’s district playoffs. Good-looking man, but she and Josh had agreed never to date each other’s friends after an awkward situation when he’d broken up with one of Piper’s former college classmates—another casualty of the Joshua Weber charm. Piper really pitied those women.

An unexpected thought struck her. Sure, she pitied them now, but how would she feel toward his dates if he ever showed a real attachment to one of them? Her stomach churned, but she told herself it was just the stress of her reunion predicament, nothing more.

“Adam would actually be a great choice for you to take to your parents,” Josh agreed, “but he’s in Vancouver on an extended business trip until after Halloween. Besides, what would I say? ‘You remember my friend Piper—she needs a fake boyfriend.”’

“I have to find someone.” She sat back, staring blankly across the table.

What would happen if she just told her family the truth—that she was single and liked it that way? You know what would happen. Charlie. The man had blond, all-American good looks and had been born into Rebecca’s top social level. Granted, Rebecca wasn’t big enough to have many levels, but the point was, he was used to getting his way. He’d seemed more bemused than upset when she’d broken their engagement, and she got the impression he was waiting for her to come to her senses.

Josh swallowed nervously. “Exactly why are you looking at me like that?”

Blinking, she chuckled at his wary tone. “Relax. I’m not asking you to come with me. I just needed a sympathetic ear.”

He quickly replaced his guarded expression with a smile meant to be casual, but his relief was so palpable it was practically a third person in the booth. “Hey, here’s an idea, what about a man from the gym? You’re there every other morning. You’ve gotta know some guys.”

“No, I spend most of my time with Gina. Or working out alone. I avoid eye contact with men so I don’t end up trapped on the treadmill, fending off unoriginal lines like, ‘Come here often?”’

“I can’t help but notice you avoid men most everywhere you go.”

“The last thing I expected from you is the Piper-needs-a-man speech.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “I get it from plenty of other people.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that. You definitely don’t ‘need’ a guy. You’re the most together woman I know.” He flashed a wicked smile. “And I know lots of women.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Give me something to work with,” he prompted. “What did you tell your mom about this mystery man?”

“I told her he had dark hair—”

“Good. Thousands of guys must have dark hair.”

“—and that he was tall—”

He laughed. “Compared to you, everyone’s tall.”

“—and I said he had green eyes.” As the words left her mouth, she realized Josh had green eyes. Deep, forest-green with flecks of shimmering gold.

Not that she’d paid much attention.

Hating the sudden warmth in her cheeks, she blurted, “I think green naturally sprang to mind because my own eyes are green.”

“Yours are blue.”

“Blue-green.” She ducked her head. “Close enough.”

Okay, maybe she had subconsciously described a man who bore a slight, vague, infinitesimal resemblance to Josh. Made sense. He was the only guy she spent much time with.

It didn’t mean anything. Yet her pulse refused to resume its normal rate. She almost pressed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, willing it to slow. After two years of observation, Piper knew that any woman foolish enough to let Josh affect her heart ended up with a broken one.

JOSH WALKED ACROSS the nondescript industrial carpet of the main workroom at Callahan, Kagle & Munroe, absently acknowledging greetings from a couple of draftsmen at their respective drawing stations. But his attention this Wednesday morning wasn’t really on any of his co-workers—at least none of the male ones. He hadn’t been able to focus his attention on work, either, which was why he’d decided to get a soda from the vending machine, motivated more by the chance to stretch his legs than by thirst.

As he approached the break room in the back, he glanced out the floor-to-ceiling window that boasted an impressive view of Houston’s skyline. Of course, it would be even more impressive without the ubiquitous road crews and bright yellow machinery below and the gray blanket of smog overhead.

Not smog, just cloud cover. He hoped his cranky mood was due to this being the third consecutive day of autumn drizzle. Because the only other explanation for the irritability that had plagued him since seeing Piper home last night was her dating dilemma.

Her dilemma, he reminded himself. She’d said flat out that she wasn’t asking him to go with her, thank God. After the last twenty years of being on his own, Josh wasn’t sure he could stomach a weekend of parents and cousins, aunts and uncles all wanting to get to know the man in Piper’s life.

Piper would figure out something. She was a determined, resourceful woman. Too bad she was gorgeous, as well. Her intelligence and sense of humor made her entirely too likable, and when combined with the incredible body she tried to hide under severe work attire and baggy weekend clothes—

Incredible body? He was not going there. Not now, not ever.

Except that lately, he had been. A lot. In the beginning of their unexpected friendship, her no-men oath and his own contrastingly busy love life had been a sufficient buffer, guaranteeing that neither of them would get any ideas about messing up their perfectly safe relationship. So what had changed? She still wasn’t interested in romance in any form or fashion, and he still…Come to think of it, he hadn’t been on as many dates lately. When had he slowed down?

He’d never intentionally set out to break Houston dating records, but it had only taken him a couple of breakups to realize he wasn’t cut out for long-term relationships. The emotional distance that had helped protect him while being shuttled from one foster home to another didn’t work well in romances, but the loner attitude that had been years in the making hadn’t magically expired at age eighteen along with the state’s wardship.

Though women might be attracted to him, more than one had decided he wasn’t worth sticking around for; he was too used to keeping his own counsel, too guarded for “real intimacy.” Maybe he’d been hurt once or twice when a woman walked out on him, but he wasn’t complaining about the way his life had turned out. As long as he kept his relationships casual enough that no one heard wedding bells, he could have plenty of fun.

But that “fun” did not and would never include Piper. Their friendship had sort of crept up on him, originally built on a few chance meetings at their apartment complex, some venting about work and a shared affection for baseball and action movies. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their friendship—like hit on her.

Entering the break room, he reached for the spare change in his pants’ pocket, but froze when he realized he wasn’t alone. Clearly, the universe was testing him. Piper stood in the otherwise empty room, bent at the waist and peering into a cabinet below the sink. The short caramel-colored jacket she wore had risen above her hips, and the matching slacks hugged her curves in a taunting way that left him struggling not to look at her caramel-covered backside.

Poor choice of words. The color she was wearing didn’t really resemble a sweet, sticky dessert topping, he told himself. It was more…well, hell. Women always seemed to have twelve words to describe one color, but he couldn’t think of anything but caramel and the thick, sugary taste it left on his tongue.

He wasn’t sure if he made a sound or if she’d just experienced that I’m-not-alone-anymore feeling, but she straightened suddenly, glancing over her shoulder.

“Josh! I didn’t realize anyone was standing there. Hey, you don’t happen to know where the extra coffee filters are, do you? I could have sworn they were in here.”

“Uh…coffee filters? No. No idea.” No alternate locations sprang to his hormone-impaired mind, but he needed something to distract her from resuming her under-the-sink search. Lord help him if she bent over again. “So, any new thoughts on how you’re going to solve your problem?”

She leaned against the counter, her smile rueful. “You mean this weekend? Maybe. I think when I get home tonight, I’ll call a few of the guys I’ve dated here in the city. I might not leave a relationship with your finesse and have them come back begging for more, but I think I’m still on speaking terms with everyone.”

“Oh.” Even though he knew Piper had dated, the thought of her with a guy jolted him. “Well, that’s…great.”

“If one of them actually says yes,” she said. “I just hope it isn’t Chase. I figure I might get desperate enough to ask him, but I won’t be brokenhearted if he says no.”

“Chase?” The only ex Josh remembered was Bobby. Or maybe it had been Rob. Definitely something in the Robert family.

“Yeah, Chase is one of those people with a strangely apt name. He spent the duration of our very brief relationship trying to get in my—” Suddenly, Piper’s expression changed. If he didn’t know her and her forthright nature better, he’d say she looked almost self-conscious. “Well, you know what I mean.”

Josh’s eyes met hers, and he hoped like hell his expression held no sign of the thoughts he’d been having so recently. “Yeah. I know.”

Neither of them seemed to have anything to add then, so they stood without speaking, gazes still locked. Though probably not even a full minute passed, the silence stretched on too long to be entirely comfortable.

Piper looked away, glancing at the empty coffeepot on the counter. “I think I’m just gonna grab a soda and get back to work.”

He pulled the forgotten change out of his pocket. “Me, too.”

They both stepped toward the vending machine, then drew up short. Josh motioned with his hand, indicating that she should go first—mostly because it gave him a chance to regain his composure.

He was glad she was going away for the weekend. Maybe he’d just been spending too much time with her lately. Maybe his dry spell had boggled his thinking and was the logical explanation for the effect Piper was having on him. Sure, that was probably it. And once he found a date for this weekend, and Piper spent some time out of town, Josh would be fine.

He just wished his jaw didn’t clench involuntarily every time he thought about Piper spending those days cuddled up to some faceless guy from her past.

3

PIPER WAS DOOMED.

After several fruitless phone calls and a long shower Wednesday evening, she was ready to concede defeat. As she’d rinsed shampoo from her hair, she’d mentally cast about for a last-minute possibility, but the truth was, she’d exhausted all her options. One ex hadn’t remembered her, which had been a big ouch to the ego. Chase was busy this weekend, but seemed to think they should get together sometime soon and have sex. Robbie, her last hope and most amicable breakup, had happily informed her he was engaged. Apparently his fiancée would frown on the idea of his running away for the weekend with an old flame. Go figure.

I can’t believe he’s getting married next month. Has it really been that long since we split up?

Piper pulled on a pair of sweatpants, assuring herself that she didn’t mind that her last date had been eons ago. She wasn’t one for wasting time, and when you weren’t actually looking for a relationship, dating was pointless. Why should she suffer through those pauses in conversation, those realizations that the person seated across from her was never really going to “get” her, when she’d rather be at home with her laptop and computer-assisted drafting software, getting ahead in her chosen career?

She supposed some people dated for companionship, but she had friends she could call on for company. Others might want dating for sex, but her experiences had left her convinced the whole thing was overrated. Pleasant, sure, but worth neither the awkwardness and risks of a casual affair nor the changes to her life to accommodate a relationship.

Maybe it was the guys she’d been with. Maybe a more experienced guy who knew women better, like, for instance, J—

“I do not need sex,” she informed her empty apartment and dead ficus tree.

And she didn’t need a man, either, she thought grumpily as she towel-dried her hair, then skimmed it back into a ponytail. Maybe she should just stick to her guns this weekend. Tell her family there’d been a misunderstanding—okay, a colossal deception—but that she was single and perfectly happy to stay that way. Of course, they were more likely to believe she was alone because she was pining for Charlie.

She strode across her living room and dug through her rolltop desk for the comfort of a Chocomel candy bar, but came up empty. A knock at her front door ended the sugar search. Given her current luck, it was probably the landlord with eviction papers. She considered her damp ponytail and heather-gray sweatsuit. Wouldn’t win any fashion awards, but it covered all the necessary body parts.

When she opened the door, she found Josh, not the landlord. Josh’s face was so grim that perhaps he’d just been evicted.

“I’ve been thinking, Piper.”

Normally she would have made some joke at his expense, but his scowl discouraged it. “About?”

“You. Your situation, I mean.”

He stepped inside, and she backed away with an alacrity she hoped he didn’t notice. Earlier, when they’d been in the break room at work, she’d experienced a strange hypersensitivity to his nearness. Now, in the privacy of her apartment, it was magnified. Did he have any idea how good he smelled? A dizzying anticipation fluttered inside her, as if every part of her body was just waiting for the moment when his skin might accidentally touch hers. And she couldn’t tell if she was nervous about it or looking forward to it.

Neither. Get a grip on yourself. She gestured toward the living room. It wasn’t big, but the square footage there made it a lot safer than the small foyer. “Why don’t you come in, have a seat?”

“Sure.” He made his way to the plaid sofa. “Did you, uh, did you call any of the guys you used to date?”

Piper perched on the arm of the couch, pleased with the compromise between sitting with him and noticeably avoiding him. “Practically all of them, but then, my list wasn’t that extensive.”

“Any luck?”

“None whatsoever.”

His posture sagged. For a second, his relaxed stance almost suggested relief, but then she realized his slumped shoulders must indicate disappointment for her.

He sucked in a jagged breath. “I’ve come to voluntarily enlist.”

Josh wanted to go with her? She struggled to find her voice. “You’re kidding.”

“I might kid you about a lot of things, darlin’, but this isn’t one of them.”

The familiar endearment stood out today, his warm, husky tone causing her stomach to turn a slow somersault. Her initial surprise and gratitude over his offer gave way to a momentary uncertainty about pretending to be romantically involved with him all weekend. The pretense would involve touching and—and…well, her mind was pretty much stuck on the touching. Her gaze slid involuntarily over his body.

“Unless you’ve come up with another solution?” he asked hopefully.

“Huh?” Piper blinked. “Oh. No. But are you sure? You sound like a man about to be martyred. You don’t have to do this.”

Which is why I offered, Josh thought. If she’d asked, he would have said no reflexively. Having no family of his own was almost tolerable as long as he wasn’t around someone else’s, reminded of everything lacking in his life. But she’d respected his space, reminding him again that she was the best friend he had. The reminder had relentlessly niggled at him, finally goading him into this decision.

His offer had nothing to do with the way he felt whenever he imagined some other man holding her or kissing her, whether the kisses were pretend or not.

“I never had a grandmother to take care of me,” he heard himself say. “But you have one you love very much, and this would make her happy. Besides,” he added with a smile, “I’ve never been one to turn down free food. What’s a road trip between pals? I mean, it’s not like anyone expects us to share a bedroom or anything.”

She jumped up from where she’d been sitting, chuckling nervously. “Perish the thought. If we shared a room, Dad would pull out his Winchester and march you down to the courthouse, where your options would be marriage to me or the hanging tree.”

“Hanging tree?”

“Sure, the big oak in the town square. They haven’t used it in about a hundred years, but they’d happily make an exception for an outsider.”

Josh peered up at her. “Gee, you make it sound like such a fun place, how could I not want to go?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He knew she’d never do that again if she realized it lured a man’s gaze to her mouth, to her full bottom lip and the sweet curve of her upper lip. Piper didn’t seek out men’s attention. She wore her hair back, mostly skipped makeup and probably didn’t even own a skirt, but her red-gold hair and turquoise eyes would attract a man even if she wore sackcloth. She applied the same determination at the gym as she did in all other areas of life, and the resulting figure would make any man’s mouth water.