Yes, they had, but he’d seriously underestimated the effect this nitpicky shit would have on his sanity. “I don’t think telling you how many pounds of mashed potatoes ten people will eat will cause her to relapse. Or call Fran. Call Paige or Gavin. Just stop asking me.”
“You’re in a pretty crappy mood for somebody who didn’t spend the morning scrubbing toilets and counting rolls of toilet paper.”
“You offered. If you don’t want to help, don’t. I’ve done my share of toilet scrubbing over the years and I don’t really give a shit.”
“Hey,” Katie said quietly.
He didn’t want to hear any more. After shoving his feet into his boots, he opened the back door. Fresh, cold air would do him some good. Especially if it kept anybody from bugging him.
“Hey!”
He turned, halfway out the door. “What?”
Katie looked him in the eye, her face calm but very serious. “You’re being an asshole.”
He shoved his hand through his hair, then stepped back into the kitchen so he could close the door. “Yeah.”
“Tell me why.”
“Because nothing’s changed.” The words he hadn’t meant to say just kind of slipped out, but he wished they hadn’t, because he didn’t want to explain what they meant, even if he could.
Back during the summer, telling his brothers how he felt about the Northern Star had been a huge relief. And their understanding—their willingness to work toward freeing him from the obligation—had given him hope. But now, as the snow fell, it was more of the same thing he’d done every winter for as long as he could remember.
“But things will change, Josh. It probably feels as if you’re doing the same old thing you’ve always done, but this year’s different. You’re not doing it alone and your whole family’s working on making things change for you. But it’s going to take some time. You know that.”
He should have known Katie would know what he meant. Nobody got him like she did. “I know. It’s just that this is always a stressful time for me, and with Rose being sick and this party and everything, I’m a little overwhelmed and I get back in that stuck forever mind-set.”
She grinned, killing the tension just like that. “Stop being so stressed. You have me this time.”
He laughed. “That would be helpful if you’d spent more time as a kid cooking with your mom and Liz and less time changing the oil in the tractors with me and my dad.”
“Shut up.” She started tapping the pen again. “What are you going to do now?”
“I need to take a quick ride out through the woods. Getting snow and then a warm spell and then a heavy, wet snow means there are branches down. I want to make sure there’s nothing that’ll screw up the groomer going through. You?”
She sighed. “Mom made me sprinkle some freshener stuff on the guest mattresses. Now I have to go vacuum it all up.”
“Have fun with that.”
“I hate you.”
On his way out, he said, “Oh, and don’t forget it’s your turn to make supper tonight.”
He jerked the door closed just in time to hear the pen bounce off the window.
In the barn, he started his four-wheeler to let it warm up. It was cold enough that the wheels wouldn’t dig up the snow too badly and he didn’t want to use his sled until the trail was groomed, because getting stuck sucked. After gassing up the chain saw, he locked it into the bracket on his ATV and swapped his around-the-house work coat for his good snowmobile coat. A few hours of trail work would put his head right.
He was right about that. It helped put his head right, but it wiped out his body so he ended up napping on the couch after dinner. He managed to sleep through whatever shows Rosie and Katie were watching and the news, which was how he found himself unable to sleep when he actually went to bed.
A little after midnight, he gave up and went down to the kitchen. Midnight snacks of the fresh-baked variety were sadly lacking, but he grabbed a couple of the brownies Katie had baked and set them on a napkin so he could grab some milk.
The first bite surprised him. Katie wasn’t in the running for Queen of the Bake Fair, but they’d come out better than he’d expected. Better than store-bought, anyway. He decided a third would fill his belly enough to help him sleep, or at the very least keep him from lying in bed wishing he’d had a third brownie.
After rinsing his glass, he crumpled his napkin and shot it into the trash basket, Kevin Garnett-style.
“Two points.”
Josh whirled, barely biting back a yelp of surprise. There, in the kitchen doorway, was Katie.
And, holy shit, Katie was…hot.
Not just hot, but smoking hot. Her hair was down, and she had on a white tank top and some flimsy shorts that looked a lot like boxers. And nothing else.
“Surprised the Celtics haven’t called you yet,” she said, and then she went to the fridge and started rummaging around.
Katie had a great ass.
Josh stood there, staring like an idiot. Had Katie always had a great ass? And her legs. Jesus, they went on forever, all long and toned and perfect for wrapping around…