Forever This Time (11 page)

Dammit.

“You'll never get this thing on by yourself. Remember?” He reached behind him to grab the dress, then stepped toward her, finding the bottom hem and holding it up so she could duck her head into the opening.

He was right. She'd forgotten the damn dress needed to come with its own personal assistant.

“Can't believe we still have this ridiculous dress,” she muttered as she shoved her arms through the armholes and he guided the top of it over her head. When it was in place, he slid his hands around the back of her neck to lift out her hair, just like he'd always done when he'd helped her get dressed.

Had he done it on purpose? Or was it just an old habit?

Against her will, she sighed and leaned back into his familiar hands as he smoothed her hair.

“Ethan? Ethan? You still down here?” Josie sprang backward as Nick reappeared at the edge of the bridge. “We have a little situation up here.”

Ethan growled low in his throat as he stepped away from Josie, but his eyes didn't leave hers. “I'll be right there.”

“It's actually an emergency. We need you, like, now.”

Ethan glanced at him, then back at Josie, shaking his head slowly, like he was trying to figure out what had just happened to make his hands actually touch her. As he turned toward Nick, he shook his head quickly as if to clear it, then followed him up the bank.

As soon as he was out of sight, Josie's knees finally gave way and she sank to the pebbled ground. Oh hell. Five days back, and her ten hard years of running away had evaporated the instant his fingers had touched her skin.

This was not the plan.

*   *   *

“Hey, Ben.” An hour later, crisis averted, Ethan strolled into Ben's cavernous maintenance garage at the edge of the park, right where the river meandered by. As usual, it smelled like metal and oil and fresh lumber, and country music was playing from the ancient radio he had dangling over his workbench.

“Ethan.” Ben looked up from some piece of metal he was tinkering with. “What brings you all the way out here? Everything okay?”

“Just walking back to the office. Thought I'd take the scenic route.” Ethan looked around for something to sit on.

Why
was
he here? After seeing Josie in … basically nothing except Santa pants, he'd barely been able to concentrate. God, for days he'd been trying
not
to think about her like that, because doing so only left him more mystified and frustrated than ever.

She'd been gone for ten years. He'd moved on. He'd learned to live without her, learned to stop hoping that someday she'd change her mind. He'd almost stopped dreaming about her.

Almost.

He wanted to hate her, damn it.

He didn't want to … want her.

“How's the little girl?” Ben's voice broke into his thoughts.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “She's fine. Very glad to see her mother. I don't think she'll be chasing ducks again anytime soon.”

Ben cocked his eyebrow. “Looks like you got something besides that on your mind.” He went back to tinkering, but Ethan knew he was listening. “Wouldn't be Josie, would it?”

Ethan just shook his head as he sat on one of Ben's spinning stools.

“How's it going between you two?” Ben peered over his shoulder. “You putting her to work? Diana said she didn't want her to have to hang out at Mercy.”

“I know.” Ethan found himself torn between feeling bitterness at everyone being so concerned about Josie's comfort—and understanding exactly why she couldn't bear being anywhere near that hospital.

Right now he was leaning toward the bitterness, but that probably had more to do with the fact that he'd just survived being only inches from her luscious body, viewing all those sweet curves embraced by nothing but wet lingerie. If Josie knew exactly how
much
he'd just seen, she'd probably be appalled that he'd kept looking.

“You gonna keep sending her out in costume all day long? Or give her something worthwhile to do? Looks like she's gonna be here for a bit longer, unfortunately. Poor Andy.” Ben shook his head. “Thought he'd have snapped right out of it by now, but I guess that's not how things work.”

“She hasn't been here in ten years, Ben. What am I supposed to have her do? We're all staffed up, except for Andy … obviously.”

“You and me both know it takes more than one person to run that office. Why don't you let her help you up there?”

Because she'd be way too damn close, old man. Way too damn close.

Ethan shrugged. “I don't know what I'd have her do. Everything's changed since she left. And she's not staying. By the time I got her trained up—which would take time away from what
I'm
supposed to already be doing—she'll be gone again. It'd be a waste of time.”

Ben picked up a hammer and tapped quietly on the metal, silence stretching between them. “You never know. Ever think maybe a little piece of her might want to come back someday? Might be your chance to help her decide.”

“No. There's no way she'd come back here. Even before … everything, she couldn't wait to leave. Hell, she and Molly made up a new getaway plan every single summer, starting when they were thirteen.” Ethan shook his head slowly. “They both wanted out of this town from the time they were old enough to figure out there
was
more than this town in the world.”

Ben laughed his low, rumbly laugh. “Remember Broadway summer?”

Ethan felt a smile threaten to erupt. “I remember them taking serious liberties with the Christmas songs they rewrote.”

“I thought Andy was going to flip his lid when he found that notebook of lyrics, but instead he just came back here and sat down and laughed till his stomach hurt.”

Ethan sobered. “I bet Josie never knew he thought it was funny.”

“No. I imagine she didn't.” Ben's laugh rumbled into silence. “He just wanted her to love this place like he did, Ethan. He never wanted to push her away.”

“I know that. I'm sure somewhere down deep she knows it, too. But it's at least ten years buried at this point. She finally followed through with her getaway strategy, and she has a new life. Molly decided to stay, but not Josie. No way she'll ever be back for good.”

“Maybe she needs a good enough reason to come back. Ever thought of that?” Ben kept his eyes on his workbench, but Ethan could tell his eyebrows were raised in that way he had.

“Well, I apparently wasn't reason enough to stay the first time. And now she's moved to Boston, started a practice, and probably has a posse of cats. Hell, she could be engaged, for all I know.”

Ben shook his head. “Doubt it. No ring, and she'd have told me that. But you're right. Cats would definitely be a deal breaker.”

“Shut up, old man.”

“Not
that
much has changed here, Ethan. She knows the business. She knows the people in town. Having her help doesn't mean you have to give over stuff you think needs your hands on it. But there've gotta be things up in that office that are starting to pile up, with Andy in the hospital. Just give her some of that stuff.”

“I don't know.”

“Afraid to have her so close to you?” Ben turned his head toward Ethan, waggling his eyebrows. “Afraid old sparks will fly?”

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to shake the image of hot-pink lingerie out of his brain. “No. We're long past sparks.”

“So give the girl a purpose here. You do that, and you never know what might happen. Maybe she'd even fall in love with this place again.” He turned back to the bench and started tap-tap-tapping again. “Or maybe other things.”

*   *   *

“Mommy! It's Snow Princess!” Josie grimaced as yet another sticky three-year-old launched toward her. She'd finally emerged from under the bridge, but was already regretting it. She was decked in twenty-five pounds of tulle and sparkles that made her three people wide. Big people.

“Hi, Snow Princess!” The little girl halted just at the edge of Josie's dress, which was only about thirty feet from her body. Cripes. She could sneak ten little kids out of the park under the thing if she wanted to.

She took a deep breath. She knew the rules, and as much as she wanted to flee Snowflake Village and its CFO right now, she was on park grounds, and she was in costume. Therefore, she had to play the role.

But she could still put on that fake accent Dad and Ethan had always hated, since Dad wasn't here to shake a finger at her and remind her that Vermonters don't
have
an accent. She turned to the little girl and pasted on her best Southern-belle smile. “Well, hello, you sweet thang!”

She sighed. Somehow the little rebellion wasn't quite as rewarding at twenty-eight years old.
Never mind.

She looked over layers of tulle to the girl's bright red hair, trying to call up her inner snow princess. “You have the prettiest hair I've ever seen. Do you think I could borrow it?”

The little girl tipped up her chin and laughed. “You have your own hair!”

“But yours is so much prettier! Look!” Josie swirled her fingers over the girl's head. “It's magical hair!”

“It is?” The girl's eyes threatened to pop their sockets.

Josie tried to lean down, but too much tulle got in the way. “Absolutely. I can just tell you're going to do magical things. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“A vedinarian!”

“Perfect. I think that sounds just right. You should go visit the reindeer now.” Josie patted her head. “Maybe I'll see you later, sweetie.”

“Bye, Princess!” The little girl blew her a sticky kiss as she grabbed her mother's hand.

“Have a happy ho-ho day!” Josie called, then closed her eyes tight. Oh
God
. Had she just
said
that? Without thinking, even? She shook her head as she turned down the pathway. She needed to lose this costume before she started whistling Christmas carols.

Two hours later, she crept up the stairway in the admin house, praying Ethan had left for the night. She'd spent a full hour trying to make her way through the park in the princess costume, but after being accosted by a five-year-old's birthday-party crew, she'd snuck out behind the Snowball Chute and down to the riverbank to wait until the park closed. An hour after
that,
she'd finally dared to head to Elf Central to change out of the costume.

As she got to the top step, she couldn't hear footsteps or voices, so she breathed a sigh of relief. Finally she was alone. She'd grab her clothes, get changed, and get out of the park for the night. Ethan's desk was empty, so she scooped her bag from Dad's office chair and headed to the tiny hallway bathroom to change.

Which turned out to be a plan with only one minor flaw. The bathroom was built with one person in mind, and in the princess dress, she was three times that wide. Try as she could, she couldn't
get
the dress into the bathroom and close the door. If she knew for certain she was going to
stay
alone up here, she'd strip right here in the hallway and put on her own clothes. However, it'd be just her luck to get naked just as a security guard started his rounds, and she'd already flashed her assets at one man too many today.

Fine. She'd use the storeroom at the end of the hall. It was about five by ten feet, if she remembered right. Should be plenty big enough to lose this stupid costume and get her own clothes back on. She headed down the hallway and found the door propped open with its little kicker thingie, so she flipped it upward with her foot, then stepped into the storeroom.

Then screamed.

 

Chapter 12

“Ethan!” Apparently he
hadn't
left for the night yet. She closed her eyes in frustration. How had she not noticed the storeroom light was on?

Startled, he turned from the shelf, a pile of notepads in his hand. “Don't let the door clo—” He tried to leap for the door, but crashed into her wall of tulle as it clicked shut behind her. “Damn.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know you were in here. I'll go—somewhere else.”
Preferably somewhere that doesn't smell like your after-shave. Somewhere less private, so I won't give in to this insane urge to run my fingers over your five o'clock shadow.

“No you won't.” He shook his head as he pointed at the door. “The lock's broken.”

Josie looked back in horror. “No way.” She rattled the handle, but nothing happened. It was locked fast.

She had seriously pissed off the gods today. First the pond, then the dress, and now she was locked in a storeroom with the only man she—shouldn't be locked in a storeroom with.

“You can't be serious.” She jiggled the handle again.

“Dead serious.”

“How long's it been broken?”

“Does it matter?”

She sighed. “Let me guess. It's been on Dad's to-do list for about five years.”

“Six.”

“And no one else has ever gotten trapped in here?”

“No one else has ever gotten trapped in here. Everybody
else
knows you don't close the door.”

Josie looked around the small space in vain. With shelves of office supplies on three sides and one buzzing fluorescent fixture for light, it was dim and smelled like ink and copy paper. And Ethan, dammit.

He leaned back against the metal shelves, crossing his arms, as cool and calm as could be. Meanwhile, Josie could already feel her face flaming. “This place needs a window.”

He smiled. “Why? So you could MacGyver your way out of it on a rope of Post-it notes?”

“Is there a letter opener or something in here? Can we jigger the lock?”