Chapter Fifteen
Nothing had happened last night, not even a kiss or a sneaky touch or even a handhold.
There had been no more mention of Peyton’s ex-fiancé—the story was bound to be spicy—and Josie hadn’t forced the situation either.
Instead, they had watched Michael kill a handful more people and then said their goodbyes.
Josie hadn’t been disappointed by the absence of more information, or a kiss, or the possibility of sex with Peyton, which she couldn’t seem to get out of her mind.
Not when Peyton had walked out of the front door close to midnight, stretching her hand out as she asked for Josie’s cellphone with the words, “I’m going to add my number to your phone, okay? But use it only for emergencies. No random texting.”
Still, Josie’s thumb hovered over Peyton’s name on her cellphone screen, the bold letters staring back at her, daring her to push down and make the call.
The only question on Josie’s mind all morning had been: What constituted an emergency?
Asking Peyton out on a date could be twisted into a romance emergency, a deep desire so painful it gave her a headache.
The only way to douse the pain was to either down a shot of tequila or to make a quick phone call.
Deciding that the pressure building up in her head most certainly signified an emergency, she tapped the contact and pressed the phone to her ear.
The phone rang three times, and then Peyton’s silky voice sounded through the speaker. “I thought I said to call only in an emergency.”
“I fell,” said Josie, embracing the first thing that popped into her head. “Like really hard. I knocked myself out and everything. I might even be concussed.” Biting down her smile, she pressed her palm to her stomach, which churned and twisted with nerves.
“You fell?” replied Peyton. Josie could hear the reluctance in her voice as if she wasn’t fully convinced—though Josie expected nothing less from her. In this case, Peyton had every right to be doubtful.
“Head over heels for you,” Josie joked. Now she was feeling a deep primal need to laugh out loud, considering she had just said the corniest thing ever.
There was a pause and then a sigh and then Peyton said, “That’s not an emergency. I’m hanging up.”
“Wait,” said Josie quickly. “Don’t hang up. I’m just joking. I actually wanted to see if you would like to grab a coffee with me today. In about an hour.”
“Coffee?” asked Peyton, no doubt frowning. “Are you being serious?”
“Couldn’t be more serious if I tried.”
“I’m at work.”
“So am I,” replied Josie. She had woken up that morning with a feeling that there wouldn’t be a single fire anywhere. A good hunch, perhaps, or possibly just a lot of trust in the universe. “But we can always play hooky. Just a quick cup of coffee. I can be in Los Osos in forty-five minutes.”
“I don’t know,” started Peyton, but Josie cut her off.
“Come on. We need to discuss Michael’s choice of murder victims and possibly commemorate their lives. They deserve as much.”
Footsteps suddenly sounded outside the locker room. Josie snapped her head in its direction, yet no one came through the doors. While Peyton cleared her throat, taking her sweet time to answer, Josie, who was extremely optimistic, was already changing back into her jeans and blouse.
“Fine,” replied Peyton finally. “Just coffee. Text me the location.”
The call ended at the same time James burst through the door of the locker room, looking flustered. His forehead was shiny with sweat, his blue shirt stained with dark patches, and his muscles were quite literally rippling. Once again, he had overdone it in the gym.
“Who’s your secret Santa for the Christmas in July party this Friday?” asked James, heading toward his locker.
Josie didn’t even get a chance to reply when he flicked his gaze to her and frowned so deeply a penny could have lost itself in there. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“What do you mean?” asked Josie, opening her locker and checking her reflection in the small square mirror mounted inside the door. She was grinning widely, a little ostentatiously. She would have to physically drag down her lips with her hands to get rid of it.
“Well, stop,” said James. “You look scary.”
That did it. Josie lost her smile and pulled a face instead.
James shrugged off the sweaty shirt and pulled on another. He then frowned even deeper—if that was even possible. “Why are you in your civvies, Jo?”
Her throat suddenly clogged up, and she swallowed hard, wondering how to approach the situation. She had all intention of letting James know that she was about to play hooky, but had planned to do it via text, begging forgiveness. Certainly not face to face. “I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” he asked, using his sweaty top as a towel, and wiping it across his forehead. After an hour of exercise, James usually did a few laps around the block and only then headed for a shower.
“Do you remember when I told you about Peyton? Well, she finally gave me her number and I kind of just made plans to see her. Just a quick hour break. Nothing longer. I promise.”
His face turned deadpan, and then he shut his locker door loudly and stepped toward Josie. He folded his arms over his big muscly chest and said nothing at all.
“Oh please,” Josie begged, bringing her palms together and lowering herself down to the bench. Going down on her knees seemed wildly inappropriate. “Pretty please, James. I’ll do anything.”
“What if there’s an emergency? What then?”
“Well, then I’ll turn right around. Promise.”
James looked to be considering it, running his fingers through his hair and nodding as if the request wasn’t completely unfair. “Fine. But only because I haven’t seen you smile like that before, and you might be a risk to everyone at the station. So, what are you going to do?”
“Just meeting for a quick coffee.”
He shook his head, his thick brows low over his eyes. “Terrible idea. What kind of impression can you make with just a coffee? How about a picnic? A quick one, for that matter. She’ll love it.”
The way he said it sounded so serious they could have been speaking about defusing a bomb. Josie had to laugh. “Are you being for real?”
“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “Women love picnics. It’s the ideal date. You should go to Lulu’s on fifth avenue and ask for the charcuterie board to go. But be back by lunchtime, alright? A minute later and I’ll write you up.”
~~
“A picnic, really?” Peyton questioned, standing with her hands on her hips. She looked stunning as always. Her sun-kissed waves glowed like a fiery halo in the sun.
“It was James’s idea,” Josie said, unfurling the picnic blanket, letting it catch the breeze before it settled on the grass greens of Los Osos Community Park. There were designated tables and benches but a picnic on the grass felt way more amorous. “He’s a hopeless romantic.”
“James?” frowned Peyton. “Why does that name ring a bell?”
“My captain. You’ve met him, remember?”
Peyton laughed. “Are you talking about Mr. Serious with those thick eyebrows and raspy voice?”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, I guess you can’t ever judge a book by its cover. Just look at you.”
“What about me?” gasped Josie, pulling out two paper plates she had picked up from home on the way to Lulu’s. She had also grabbed two plastic cups for the grape juice, a few forks, and a spoon, just in case.
Peyton’s lips curled into a smile, then she shook her head and flopped down onto the blanket, stretching her legs long. “Nothing. So, what’s in the basket?”
‘Nothing’ wasn’t a good enough answer, but just like the whole ex-fiancé thing, Josie was going to leave it alone… for now, at least.
“All the good stuff. Some prosciutto, salami, gouda chunks, pretzels, and basically every berry under the sun,” Josie said, unpacking the board. She kept sight of Peyton and the way her eyes widened with every delicious treat Josie placed on the blanket.
“Do you do this often?” asked Peyton, reaching for a dried fig. “Play hooky with women you meet in exotic countries.”
“Yes,” said Josie poker-faced. “Every Thursday I wine and dine with this really hot blonde I met in Spain last year. She’s all for the fate thing and laps it up like chocolate sauce on a lover’s stomach.
Actually, I think she might propose next week, so this is probably the last time I can see you. ”
Peyton laughed loudly and freely and so damn gorgeously. Josie experienced a lovely, heady sensation every time she made Peyton laugh. She couldn’t get enough of it and was prepared to stand on her head, juggling pins with her feet if she needed to.
“Seems like a much better catch than me.”
“I don’t know,” mused Josie, bringing her shoulders up and letting them fall down as she grabbed a strawberry and bit one sour end. “I kind of like the challenge.”
Peyton pulled a face. Then, she assembled—quite masterfully—a cracker with cheese and meat and slivers of dried fig, all without saying a single word.
“So, why don’t you tell me about yourself?” asked Josie, crossing her legs and topping off their plastic cups with grape juice.
A dip appeared between Peyton’s brows. “Seriously? Are we on some sort of matchmaking show?”
“It’s a simple question,” said Josie, defending her choice of words. If she could, she would do a deep dive into Peyton’s personal life and learn everything. “Tell me your entire life story in exactly three minutes.”
Peyton laughed and then shook her head. “How about you start, then? Tell me something I don’t already know.”
Josie ran her teeth over her bottom lip. There were thirty-four books—one for every year of her life—filled with things Peyton didn’t know yet and somehow, she had to find the most interesting thing.
“I’m completely immune to mosquitoes,” said Josie after a short while of sifting through the things that made her interesting—not that many, actually. “They literally fly right past me. Honestly, it sometimes feels like an insult.”
Laughing, Peyton pointed at a pink welt on the side of her thigh. “Well, I’m clearly not immune. If Mosquitos had a fan club, I’d be their president.”
The next forty minutes flew by, literally, as if the world’s clock was on a Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird jet and time had somehow sped up. Not a minute was spent in silence. Even when their mouths were full, even when they were sipping on the grape juice, they spoke and shared and laughed.
Josie felt like she was in some alternate universe where she had known Peyton forever. A dream she never wanted to wake up from.
“I should do this more often,” said Peyton, leaning back on her outstretched palms, legs long and chin tilted up, absorbing the morning sun. “Run away from work.”
All Josie really wanted to do was bury her face in the woman’s neck, breathe in her ocean smell, and move so close that their bodies became one.
Instead, she took a massive risk and shifted closer until she was sitting perpendicular to Peyton, her left palm flat on the blanket beside Peyton’s thighs, facing her directly.
“You know what we’re missing?” asked Josie, her gaze stuck on the soft contour of Peyton’s jaw, the faint pulse beneath it, and the way her waves fell perfectly over her bare shoulders. Not even Aphrodite was that beautiful.
“What?” asked Peyton, moving her head down and opening her eyes. Surprise suddenly flittered across her face as she took in Josie’s closeness, and she looked just about ready to leap up and run away, yet she remained motionless.
“A kiss,” said Josie softly, her body basically trembling. “If I kiss you now, are you going to run away and move to another country?”
Peyton swallowed hard, her eyes flicking down to Josie’s lips, and when she shook her head, so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a twitch, Josie felt an inexplicable sense of relief.
“Good,” Josie muttered, reaching forward. She then curled the fingers of her free hand behind Peyton’s neck, slipping through the mass of her wavy hair, and closed the gap between their lips.
Peyton’s mouth was soft and warm, her tongue sweet as it slid over Josie’s and then Peyton leaned in, deepening the kiss at the same time Josie’s hand moved down to her shoulder, smoothing all the way along her arm.
A park wasn’t exactly the place for a passionate kiss, but who cared. Certainly not Josie, who could easily kiss the woman until darkness spread like ink through the sky.
Peyton was the first to pull back.
But the look on her face differed from all those times before. There was no guilt, no apprehension. All Josie could see now was the face of a woman who didn’t want the kiss to end but needed it to for worldly reasons—like losing track of time and risk being written up.
“I should probably go,” said Peyton, sitting forward and checking her watch. “Shit.” Her eyes doubled in size. “It’s almost twelve.”
“Crap,” Josie stammered, her heart beating fast and in her head. She jumped up and threw all the leftovers back into the picnic basket. “James is going to kill me.”