Like He Never Left

chapter 29

Josie's POV

God, I hope he's doing okay. I knew when I offered he wouldn't call me unless it was a last resort. 

I drum my fingers on my table, staring at my bowl of cereal. 

I prayed last night before bed for him. I don't pray nearly as much as Pastor Anderson says we should, but I had to ask God to help him not follow the road I went down. The road of self-destruction and self-pity. I asked Him to help Colt get through this quickly. 

And I also may have prayed for Brooke to accidentally flush herself down the toilet. 

I cannot believe that the meek woman I met at Liz's party did this to him. As much as I want to know what happened, I also don't. I don't want to hear about what broke him down so much.

"Baby."

I wonder what she's doing right now. Is she proud of herself for this? Did she even stick around to see what she did to him?

"Josie!"

I about fly out of my seat, nearly knocking my cereal over. 

I look up to find James peering down at me, forehead creased to make his worry lines appear. 

I clear my throat and smooth out the table cloth. "Yeah?"

"I've been trying to get your attention for the past minute now." He pulls out a chair and sits close next to me. "What's on your mind?"

I purse my lips and contemplate my next words. I'm going to be honest with him, and I know he'll understand. I mean, at least I hope he will. 

"Just thinking about yesterday."

James leans his strong forearms on the table, coming in closer. "Yeah?"

I nod. "I'm sorry for doing this to you," I tell him. "It can't be easy to be caught up in the crossfire that is me and Colt."

He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "As much as I want you all to myself, I know how much you two meant to each other. I can still see it now, and I'm not going to come between you and him if he doesn't between you and me."

I nod, understanding the message. I stare at the buttons on his shirt over his chest, and I sigh. I put my hands on his shoulders, his strong hardy shoulders from renovating houses, and I lock onto his gaze.

"You're so good to me, James." His eyes soften, and I toy with the hair at the base of his neck. "He isn't going to come between us, I promise you, I'd never be able to bring myself to do that to you after what you've done for me. Thank you for being honest with me."

"And thank you for being honest with me."

He leans forward and plants a kiss on my lips, one just meant to be a soft peck, but I hold him there by his shoulders and deepen it. His hands run down my torso and settle on my hips, and he pulls me over to sit on his lap. Our lips mold together in sync as I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing myself closer to him. Everything I can't express in words—my appreciation for him, my gratitude that he fell into my life—I make sure I pour into the kiss, and he groans in the back of his throat. 

We break apart far too soon, but the need for air overcomes us both. Dipping my head down, I skim my open mouth over his jaw, down his neck while we both catch our breath. His fingers thread through my hair delicately, allowing me to suck and nibble on his sweet spot in the junction of his neck and shoulder. 

He tugs my hair lightly, pulling me away from his neck, and I settle back, complying. "I've got a renovation and a crew waiting. Are you coming with me?"