Jayne Addison - About That Kiss

He didn’t answer, just continued to look at her.

Joy no longer felt the threat of tears. What she felt was frustration and anger. “What made you decide to buy this paper, anyway?”

“I decided it was time for me to settle down in one place and build roots.”

Joy thought about his answer for a long moment.

“I get it,” she said, pushing back her chair and standing. Of course, she got it. He was showing Diana that he’d settled down. It was his traveling that had broken them up.

“What do you get?” Nick asked, reaching her as she got to the door.

Joy turned around to give him a withering glance. “We both know why you picked now to settle down.”

Nick couldn’t hold back a grin. She looked so cute with her eyes blazing at him. “I really don’t think you have a clue.”

“Oh, I have a clue. I have more than a clue,” Joy retorted.

“Forget what you think you know.” Nick put his palms to the door on either side of her, pinning her in place. “How about we talk about a compromise?”

“What kind of compromise?” Joy asked, partly steaming, partly intoxicated by his proximity. More intoxicated than steaming. And thrilled. Being praised by someone of his professional stature was exhilarating.

“You work out the rest of your contract without being angry at me, and if you still want to leave then I’ll see that you get an assignment from someone who will appreciate you. It’s obvious you haven’t met with the right people.”

Joy narrowed her eyes at him. “Is this a snow job?” Even if it was, Joy realized, what choice did she have? She couldn’t imagine any editor hiring a journalist who had been sued for breach of contract.

“No.”

“Can I go to my desk now?” How in heaven’s name was she going to get through three months of being around him?

“Are you still mad at me?” Nick angled his head.

“Yes.” She didn’t get all that much conviction in her tone. It was impossible for her to disassociate herself from his sexiness.

“How about if I buy you pizza with anchovies for lunch?” Nick asked lazily.

“Are you planning to eat at the same table?” Remembering how he had balked the night before about her topping choice Joy did her utmost to keep a straight face. His playfulness was irresistible.

“Is that a smile you’re trying to hide?”

“No!” Joy pushed firmly at his shoulders.

Nick easily maintained his position. “Are you going to have lunch with me?”

“Anchovies?” Joy asked.

“Anchovies,” Nick responded with a laugh.

“And you have to taste a slice.”

“Okay.” Nick put his hands up in the air as if she was holding a gun on him. “You’ve got me at your mercy.”

Joy let him see her smile as she made a backward reach for the doorknob. There wasn’t any way that she could stay mad at him;

“God, you really are hard on a guy,” Nick said with a grin and stepped back to let her go.

“What have you been up to all day?” Diana asked, addressing Nick as soon as he and Joy stepped into the parlor that evening.

“I’ve been running a newspaper.” Nick winked at Joy. “Trying to, anyway. I might have done better if your sister hadn’t forced me to eat anchovies at lunch.”

Joy’s smile was forced. She’d been happily keyed up since they’d had lunch together, but now that he was about to tell Diana that he’d finally settled down, Joy’s spirits flattened right out.

“A newspaper?” Diana questioned, confused.

“The East End Journal, “ Nick responded, giving a glance to the fourth party in the room. There was a young man standing on a stepladder closing a paint can. Nick didn’t think Joy was picking up on it, but the painter was giving her a thorough once-over. Every fiber of Nick’s body went on alert.

“Formerly the Greenport News,” Joy said.

“I don’t get it,” Diana said, as the painter got down from the ladder.

“Hey, Joy,” he said, flashing her a look—a look that Nick was clearly reading as predatory. He wasn’t liking this one bit!

“Hey, yourself, Eddie,” Joy said while Nick watched her smile at the painter. To Nick that smile seemed to have come to her easier than the smile she’d given him moments ago.

“I still don’t get it,” Diana said again.

“I haven’t seen you dress this way for a day at the slave den before,” Eddie said, giving Joy a provokingly sexy grin, then a low whistle.

Nick ground his teeth almost to the point of needing emergency dental treatment.

“Yeah…well,” was Joy’s lackadaisical response while she tried not comparing herself to Diana. Even in humdrum textured slacks and a plain white shirt rolled to her elbows, Diana was a knockout. Joy wouldn’t have traded Diana for any other sister in the entire world. But the three inches of height Diana had over her was aggravating Joy right now. Couldn’t Diana have at least one shortcoming?

Forcing her thoughts away from her sister, Joy asked Eddie. “How’s the rock and roll business?”

“Happening, babe. Happening.”

Nick watched “Mr. Happening” drop his eyes to briefly explore, for a second time, the fit of Joy’s turtleneck top across her pert breasts.

Joy finally turned to Nick. “Oh, Nick…this is Eddie DeMarco. Painter by day. Rock and roll singer by night. Eddie, this is Nick Tremain. My new boss and Kevin’s brother.”

“Your new boss?” Diana asked, still bewildered.

Eddie raised a paint-covered palm toward Nick’s face. “I’d shake hands with you, but—”

“No problem.” Nick ground out a casual smile, taking adversarial note of Eddie DeMarco’s cocky physical characteristics. What did Joy know of Eddie DeMarco’s nights? Did she go for guys with ponytails?

“Will someone please answer me?” Diana looked from Nick to Joy, then back to Nick.

Just then Emily Mackey pushed open the door from the kitchen. “Dinner is ready. Hurry up. All of you. There’s nothing worse than a lukewarm roast. Eddie, haven’t you changed and washed up yet?”

“I’m going right now, ‘Mom,’” Eddie bantered.

“I’m just going to change my clothes,” Joy said.

“Need any help?” Eddie teased Joy as Mrs. Mackey stepped back into the kitchen.

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