Losers Weepers (Lost & Found 4)

“Not dead yet, babe.” My voice sounded wrong, too lazy-sounding and low, but that was probably the whiskey’s fault. “Just shitfaced.”

She shook her head, taking in the scene around us. Her eyes lingered on the half-empty bottle of golden liquid between my legs. “You’re dead.” She crossed her arms and leveled me with a look. “Colt Mason? That was your plan? Rekindling the flame with Colt?”

I shouldn’t have drunk so much so quickly. It had hit me hard and lowered just about every inhibition I possessed . . . which wasn’t many. But Josie was one of those inhibitions, and if I wasn’t careful, I knew I’d give in big time. I had to keep trying to remind myself why I needed to keep her at a mile of arm’s lengths.

“What? Colt’s a good guy. You used to think that once,” I said. “Is it so far-fetched to believe you could feel that way again?”

She hadn’t stopped glaring at me since she’d entered the room. I didn’t think she’d even taken a break to blink. “He is a good guy, a better one than you in some ways, especially after what you pulled tonight, but he’s not my guy.” She bit her lip for a moment. “What did you think I was going to do, huh? Give him a rebound fuck down there by our watering hole and then what? We’d just go on to live happily ever after?”

I had to take a break from her glare, so I rolled over to one of the open windows and stared into the night. I stared for so long I could feel it starting to stare back. “That doesn’t seem so far-fetched either.” My voice sounded as empty as I felt. Digging into a dark place, I found what I needed to say and braced myself for her reaction. “And with your sexual appetite, after the month-plus you haven’t gotten any, I thought you’d practically jump him if I was out of the picture.”

I hadn’t heard her approaching, but I definitely heard the snap of her palm slapping my cheek. I felt the sting of it too.

“I wish I could hate you right now, Garth Black, because I would hate you so, so much it’s not even funny. So much.” Her lower lip wobbled a few times, but her glare remained unaffected.

“You just hit a guy in a wheelchair, Josie. That’s a bit low, don’t you think?” I rubbed the place she’d slapped me, not because it hurt but because it reminded me I wasn’t as numb as I’d thought I was. The prickling sensation and tingles trickling into my jaw told a different story.

“I didn’t hit a guy in a wheelchair. I hit you.” She thrust her arms at me. “When are you going to stop being defined by that thing and move on?”

My hands lowered to each wheel as I lifted my brows. “Kind of hard to move on from it when I’m paralyzed.”

“All you see when you look at yourself or think about yourself or talk about yourself is that damn wheelchair. It’s nothing more than some metal, nylon, and rubber, but you’re acting like it’s this nemesis or higher power or something you have no control over.” Her eyes didn’t move from mine, not once. “If all you want to see when you look at yourself is that chair, that’s your issue, but don’t make the rest of us out to be so short-sighted.”

I tipped my hat down lower on my forehead. For Josie, that might have been true. She hardly seemed to notice my wheelchair unless I brought it up, but everyone else was different. Instead of looking me in the eye, their gazes shifted from my chair to my legs.

A breeze came through the window, breaking across my face. It was cool enough to dull the haze of the whiskey, though only as partially as it was temporary. “How did you find me?”

I heard her step closer and sniff the air. “All I had to do was follow the scent of coward,” she said, followed by another sniff. I didn’t argue or try to deny it, because she was right—I was a coward—but my reasons were noble, so at least I was an honorable coward. “I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner, but I guess I was a little busy panicking over where you were and driving through town, checking every last one of your old haunts and asking if anyone had seen you while calling every last friend and enemy of yours I had the number to.”

My phone was still shut off, probably close to dying, and since I didn’t have a way to charge it, it would stay that way. That was okay though. A cell phone was a modern convenience I could have done without, especially when I imagined the earfuls I’d get from Rowen and Jesse when they found out what I’d done. “I suppose that explains why I have a few dozen voicemails and texts from the Sterling-Walkers.”

A huff came from Josie, who was still out of view behind me. That was good too. It was easier to talk to her when I wasn’t looking at her. Or at least it was easier to talk and mask what I was feeling when I wasn’t looking at her.

“They were so worried they were about to jump in the truck and haul over here to help find you, but that was about the time I got your message about meeting you.” A bitter note buried itself deeper in Josie’s voice. “Not cool of you to go stress a pregnant woman—a high-risk pregnant woman—out, Garth. Like you needed anymore bad karma stacked up against you.”

Another rush of cool air blew past me. “I wasn’t the one who called them and said I’d gone missing.”

She took two solid steps closer, probably so she would be within arm’s reach of my neck. “Why can’t I hate you?”

“Because you have a thing for guys on four wheels?”

“It should be easier,” she said to herself, as if she hadn’t heard my reply. “It really should be easier to turn off these feelings I have for you, at least enough so I can hit the level of strongly dislike.”

Having her so close was messing with me. Especially since I could smell her shampoo at this range. The longer she stayed, the more she’d wear me down, and I was already so worn down I was nothing more than a nub. “What are you doing here, Josie?”

“You promised me a meeting tonight. A meeting with you. I’m just making sure you hold up your end of that promise.”

The gentle breeze still working through the window was playing with her hair, swirling it around behind her and throwing a few strands into her face. I was only watching from the very corner of my eye, but she was so beautiful, I found it hard to breathe. How could I let this woman go?

“I’m never going to walk again.” There—that was how. Because I was a gruff jerk.

She gave a single nod. “I know that.”

“Knowing that and accepting that are two different things.”

Her eyes shifted from staring out the window to me. An eyebrow crept higher up her forehead. “You’re the one so hung up on that distinction. I’m good with what is and what may be, and I’m ready to get on with our lives already, which is hard to do, by the way, when you try to set me up with other guys.” She was waiting for me to really look at her.

She’d have to wait a long time because I couldn’t look at her and keep up this act much longer. “How did you and Colt leave things?”