“I hear you two are a thing now.”
“A thing?” Josh shrugged. It was as good a word as any. “I guess we’re a thing, yeah.”
“It’s about time. I thought I was going to have to talk her into kissing me in front of the television or something just to get you riled up.”
Maybe he didn’t want to have lunch with Max Crawford after all, even to win a bet. The idea of Katie kissing some other guy made Josh’s stomach churn and it was all he could do to keep his hands from curling into fists.
The surge of jealousy took him off guard. He’d seen Katie kiss a guy before. They’d even gone out as a group when he and Katie were both seeing other people. But now the thought of Katie kissing Max, even if they were just trying to make him jealous, raised his blood pressure.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to resort to that,” Max continued. “Katie’s a sweet girl, but she’s all yours. Has been as long as I’ve known her.”
Josh nodded and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, but he kept replaying those words in his mind as he walked back to the couch. He’d thought maybe living under the same roof had sparked the fire between him and Katie, but even well before Rosie got sick, he’d been an idiot not to catch the hints here and there that Katie’s feelings for him weren’t platonic.
The day he’d had lunch with Mitch, Josh had been worried about falling in love with Katie. He’d never stopped to realize she might already be in love with him.
But he was certain he would have known if that were true. They’d spent so much time together, and there was no way she was that good an actress. If Katie had been thinking steamy thoughts about him before Christmas Eve, she couldn’t have hidden it from him. It looked like Whitford suffered from the same overactive imagination, with a dash of wishful thinking, that Rose did.
Josh had just gotten comfortable when he looked up and saw Katie. She had a bottle of water in one hand and she grabbed a handful of chips before she settled herself in the corner.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I came to watch the game, like I always do.” He scowled and she rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, what? Now that we sleep together, I’m supposed to stay home and make you a sandwich?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You told me you were doing something with Hailey today, so I was surprised to see you. No big deal.”
“Change of plans.”
It was their first time at Max’s since Christmas Eve, and he wasn’t really sure how he should act. Or how she expected him to act. She didn’t want to feel like a dirty secret, but that didn’t mean she necessarily wanted a public display of affection here at Max’s house, either.
To test the waters, he twisted around to face her and rested his hand on her knee. “What happened with Hailey?”
“She wanted me to help her do some winterizing, which she obviously put off too long, but she stayed up half the night watching some dumb movie marathon and she canceled on me. So now I get to be here with you, instead.”
When she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his mouth, he squeezed her knee. That answered that question.
Butch stirred in the recliner and muttered, “It’s about goddamn time.”
*
Katie saw the opportunity to make her move during the third quarter. Max went into the kitchen for more drinks and, since Josh had nodded off, she eased herself off the couch and followed. Whether or not Josh was her boyfriend—and she wasn’t holding her breath for that kind of definitive label from him—a bet was a bet and she intended to win.
“How was your holiday, Max?” she asked when they were alone in the kitchen. “Did you go somewhere for Christmas?”
“I went home to Connecticut to see my parents.”
“Connecticut, huh? How’d you end up in Maine? Was it for work?” When he gave her a look that clearly said really? she knew she’d overplayed her hand. Again. She wasn’t very good at subtle interrogation.
“What’s with you two today? You’re both acting more openly nosy than usual.”
Katie laughed, knowing they were busted. “Josh and I have a bet going about who can find out what you do for work first. Loser washes the other’s vehicle once a month for a year.”
Max chuckled. “I thought it was a well-established fact in Whitford that I’m a serial killer.”
“You know about that?”
“Of course I do.”
“So why don’t you say something?” It was weird to let a town think you were killing people in your basement rather than name your job.
“Because it amuses me. And I’m waiting to see how long it takes for somebody to point out that serial murder isn’t really a sustainable career choice. How would that make me money?”