She stretched up and pressed a kiss just under his ear, and that little movement meant more to him than an encyclopedia’s worth of words. “Are you still in touch with her?”
“I didn’t see her again until last year.”
“For your grandfather’s funeral,” Josie guessed, and he nodded. He’d been too wrung out from grief to feel anything at all when he’d encountered his mother at the graveside.
“I’ve made my peace with it mostly. I wish things were different, but when I lost Pops, I lost my true parent. After all this time, I don’t want or expect anything from her.”
Josie’s mouth hardened. “Well, fuck her very much. She doesn’t know what she’s missing with you.”
Her ferocity tugged a bark of laughter from him.
“What’s so funny?” she asked indignantly.
“You are. My warrior.” He reached out to cradle her head in his hands and kissed her softly, wondering the whole time why she’d sought him out this afternoon. Was it just to pick a fight she knew he’d give her? Or was she after something else from him, some comfort that only he could offer her? That thought wasn’t as ludicrous as it would have been a few months ago, but then again, in his experience, fashionable, vivacious women didn’t choose him. And Josie was the most vivacious woman he’d ever known, which meant he’d never be a permanent part of her life.
But God, he wanted to try.
She shifted. “Can we go inside now? Van sex is incredibly undignified.”
He wasn’t quite ready to let go, but in the end he pulled his hands away from her sweet face. “It was hot though.”
“With us, it’s always hot.” Then she ran a thumb along his damp hairline. “It’s also literally hot in here. Let’s get inside. Avoid heat stroke. Have some dignified indoor sex.”
He couldn’t argue with that, so he popped open the door, stepped out, and extended his hand to help her down.
Twenty-Six
Josie snuggled deeper into Erik’s new couch and silently listed the things that made her feel calmer: Erik’s smile. Erik’s baking. Erik’s confidence in her. The glass of wine Erik had just handed her.
Just… Erik. Seriously, did he even drink wine? It was possible that he only had it on hand for her. The thought warmed her almost as much as the Malbec did.
He joined her on the couch, and she shifted to lean against the arm and stretched her legs across his lap. Sure enough, he was holding a beer.
He took a sip and rested his free hand on her shin. “You ready to tell me specifics?” When she hesitated, he offered her that rare, beautiful Erik smile and said, “You know you want to.”
She sighed. Sipped her wine. Considered deflecting with sarcasm. Decided to rip off the Band-Aid. “I’m middling.”
Erik said nothing, just stroked a hand down her leg, and now that she’d started talking, the words came pouring out.
“She started trying to turn me into a photographer from the time I was little, but it was super obvious from early on that I might understand the technical side of things, but I’d never be able to find the soul in my photographs.” She idly swirled the wine in her glass as she relived the dawning realization that had disappointed her and her mother both. “So that meant good ol’ Pam couldn’t show off the work of her talented daughter in her gallery shows. And then I disappointed her by having too much energy to sit still and be a quiet little shadow she could trot out for her fancy artist friends.”
“Of course not. You? Quiet?”
“Exactly!” They shared a smile, but hers immediately slipped off her face. “Anyway, today she spelled out for me again how much I embarrass her. My disappointing job, my lack of a college degree, my ‘middling’ talent. Just… all of it.”
He tilted his head to look at her. “You know she’s wrong about you.”
“Is she though?” Josie rubbed a hand over her tired eyes, which were probably still pink and puffy from all the tears she’d cried. She pushed the worst part out. “Thing is, I’m still desperate for her to tell me she’s proud of me. My whole life, she’s made it clear how inadequate I am, but every time she snaps her fingers, I come running, begging for scraps of affection. I fight about everything in my life, but when it comes to my mom, I roll over and show her my belly. It’s pathetic.”
“It’s natural.”
Although he didn’t say more, Josie knew he was thinking about the story he’d shared in the van. “I suppose it is.” She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, huddling into herself. If only she’d reached the healthy place with her disappointing mother that he seemed to have found with his.
He drained his beer and set it aside. “As a smart woman once told me, fuck your mom. She doesn’t know what she’s missing with you.”
His voice was as vehement as she’d ever heard it, and she let a little truth spill out.
“What’s she missing, exactly? Jokes and temper and too many expensive shoes? Basically nobody in my life has the patience to put up with me. Did you know I almost broke up Finn and Tom right after they got together? I’m a life-ruiner.” She tried to laugh at the weak attempt at self-deprecation, but the sound died in her throat. Sharing this much with Erik was terrifying, yet the weight on her chest felt lighter with every confession. “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve been able to spend so much time with… all this.”
