Goody Two Shoes (Invertary 2)

Josh was sprawled out in an armchair. His lips twitched as he lazily folded his arms. “It’s a TV, Caroline.”

She dumped the bedding on the couch and put her hands on her hips. “I know it’s a TV. It’s not my TV. What’s it doing here? Where is my TV?”

“Sweetheart.” Josh rose lazily and took a step towards her. “I know you liked your TV but it was older than my parents. It didn’t even have ESPN. This one has HD, CNN and ESPN. Plus, it hangs on the wall, so it frees up that little table for you to pile more books on.”

Caroline felt her blood pressure rise. “Why are you spouting acronyms at me? How am I supposed to know what HDPSN is and why should I be excited about it? I didn’t ask for this TV. I don’t need it. I don’t want it. I barely watch TV. Take it back.”

Josh stepped into her space. He put a hand on either side of her neck. His thumbs caressed her jaw. He gently angled her face up to him. “I guessed from the state of your TV that you didn’t watch it much. But I’m staying here right now. And a man needs access to football.”

“Josh McInnes,” Caroline said, “if you think—”

His lips covered hers. The kiss was sweet, tender and very, very sensual. Caroline felt the tension drain from her body with each touch of his lips.

“I’m sitting right here and I’m fighting the urge to vomit,” his father said.

Josh moved away from her as he swept his thumb over her bottom lip. “Are we okay about the TV?”

Her brain was foggy. “Okay,” Caroline whispered.

He smiled at her, kissed her on the nose and gently pushed her towards the door.

“Go get ready for bed. You’re up early tomorrow.”

Feeling slightly drugged, she nodded to the men and sped up the stairs. She was halfway through pulling on her favourite pink satin pyjamas when she realised that she’d followed Josh’s orders without so much as blinking.

Her eyes narrowed. He was manipulating her. And using his magic lips to do it.

“So that’s where I’ve been going wrong all these years,” his father said as soon as Caroline disappeared. “I should have just kissed your mother to get her to do what I wanted.”

Josh fixed him with a look. “It might have helped. Hell, anything might have helped.”

He sat back down into one of the faded brown armchairs. A spring poked into his back. His father flicked channels, looking for a game to watch.

“What happened tonight?” Josh brought the beer bottle to his lips.

His father’s eyes stayed on the screen. Josh had about given up on an answer when he spoke. “I made dinner for her and lit a couple of candles, thought it might help.”

“And it didn’t?”

His father cast him a sideways glance that made Josh steel himself for the stupidity to come. “It was going fine until the topic turned to you and your wedding.”

“Ah.” Josh nodded knowingly.

His father frowned. “I don’t approve.”

“No kidding,” Josh mumbled.

“Nobody seems to care that I don’t approve.”

“That’s because nobody does.”

His father growled. “Don’t I have a right to stop you from ruining your life?”

“No. You have the right to tell me you think I’m ruining my life. You exercised your right. Now you have the right to shut the hell up and let me get on with it.”

“You’re being a fool.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”