Love and Joy Read online

  “You did it,” he said, feeling more simple happiness than he had in months, maybe years.

  “I did.” She came to him and threw her arms around him.

  Joy hadn’t meant to kiss him. She really hadn’t. But she was so excited about her delicate, sprouting plants, and he looked so good with the sunlight on his hair, those pale eyes smiling at her.

  She couldn’t seem to help herself.

  And anyway, this wasn’t something unprecedented between them, was it?

  She linked her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, and as they sank into the kiss, her entire body sighed with relief, as though it had been holding the tension of years of unrealized hopes and suppressed fears, and it had finally put down that baggage and felt the freedom of release.

  They broke the kiss, and she rested her forehead lightly against his.

  “I guess I got a little excited,” she said. “About the plants, I mean.”

  “I guess you did.” His breath was warm on her, and his fragrance smelled like home.

  “Oh boy,” she said. Nothing else, just that.

  He sighed. “Yeah.”

  He knew what the oh boy meant, because he felt it himself. It meant they both were getting deep into this thing, and if it didn’t work out, somebody was going to get hurt.

  Likely, both of them.

  But why shouldn’t it work? Sure, all of Nix’s romantic relationships had eventually failed. But it only took one. Why shouldn’t it be this one?

  If Joy had been just any woman he was dating, he’d have tried to transition the kiss into something more. He’d have invited himself into the house, and from there, he’d have tried to persuade her to take him into her bed.

  But Joy wasn’t just any woman. He couldn’t have said why, exactly. Why this time was different, why this woman was more. But he knew it was true, and that would just have to do.

  So instead, he cleared his throat and gathered his faculties.

  “Have I told you anything about fertilizing the soil yet? I … ah … we should do that.”

  Chapter 21

  “So you’ve kissed a few times. Now what?”

  Joy was on the phone with Amber that evening, after she’d cooked dinner in her little kitchen and tidied up the tiny house. She gave Amber’s question full consideration before answering.

  “I don’t know. We keep dating, I guess. And we keep hitting things on my list. It’s been really fun so far.”

  “I saw the pictures of your little sprouts on Instagram,” Amber said. “You said you were going to do the organic gardening thing, but I didn’t really believe it. But there it was, happening!”

  “I got so excited I accidentally kissed Nix.” Joy was up in the loft sitting on her bed, and she could admit she was starting to see the coziness of the space that Amber had recognized when she’d visited.

  “You accidentally kissed him.”

  “Well … yes.”

  “Like, you were just celebrating and your lips smacked into his.”

  “Something like that.” Joy grinned like an idiot remembering it.

  “You want my two cents?” Amber asked.

  “Always.”

  “This guy is good for you. I really think he is. I mean, the whole tone of our phone conversations and your blog posts has changed. You’ve changed. For the better, Joy.”

  Her first impulse was to deny it, but why? It was true.

  “You think so?” she said.

  “I do.”

  “You know what else?” Joy shifted her position on the bed, settling in and getting comfortable with the early evening glow from the skylight shining down on her. “My blog views are up. Everything kind of plummeted when I started this thing, but now? It’s starting to gain traction, Amber. Just like we hoped it would.”

  “That’s wonderful, Joy.” From the warmth in Amber’s voice, Joy knew she meant it. “But remember, you’re doing this for you, not just for views.”

  “I know.” For the first time, she actually did know.

  They chatted about other things for a while— Amber’s job and her family, mostly—then Joy said, “You really think Nix is good for me?”

  “Yes.” Amber put heavy emphasis on the word. “He’s different than anyone else you’ve dated, and that’s a good thing, Joy. That’s a very good thing.”

  Nix, Louise, and Leon were playing darts at Ted’s, a dive bar off Main Street, a couple of nights after Nix had seen Joy in the bathtub. Nix had just beaten Louise, and now he and Leon were competing in a best two out of three match.

  The bar was dark and smelled like old sweat and spilled Budweiser. The floor was sticky under Nix’s feet, and the sound system was running through a playlist of 1980s greatest hits.

  “You walked in on her in the tub and you didn’t make a move?” Leon asked, shaking his head. “Man, that’s a wasted opportunity.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” Nix lined up and took his three shots for a total of thirty-two points. “It was respectful, asswipe.”

  “It was,” Louise agreed from where she sat on a barstool far enough back that she was unlikely to get pegged by an errant dart. “Whether that’s a good thing or not depends on whether she’s looking for a nice guy or for someone who’s going to use her hard and then throw her away like yesterday’s newspaper.”

  Nix and Leon both stopped what they were doing and looked at her.

  “Hey, I’m not gonna lie. Those are some of my fondest memories,” she said.

  “Well, that’s not what I’ve got in mind,” Nix said.

  “That’s sweet, dude. Really. I’m kind of choking up a little,” Leon deadpanned.

  “Asshole,” Nix observed mildly.

  Leon took his shots and got a paltry eighteen points. Apparently deciding to ignore the crappiness of his score, he did a little victory dance, waving his arms in the air and swinging his hips.

  “So, what’s your next move?” Louise asked Nix. She wasn’t talking about darts.

  He shrugged as though he hadn’t thought about it much, but in fact, he had. “The list is my best bet.”

  “The things-she-wants-to-do list?” Louise asked.

  “That’s the one.” He took a swig from the bottle of beer he’d been nursing. “Gives me an excuse for asking her out. Tuesday is skydiving day, that kind of thing.”

  “Holy shit. She wants to skydive?” Leon said.

  “That’s just an example,” Nix said. “No, she doesn’t actually want to skydive.”

  “That’s a relief,” Louise said. “No woman’s worth risking your life for.”

  Privately, Nix thought she might be wrong about that. And the fact that he was thinking that way was at least as scary as actual skydiving would have been.

  “Shove over,” Nix told Leon. “It’s my turn.”

  They dated steadily over the next month. Sometimes they did things on Joy’s list—she’d never been kayaking, so they did that—and other times, they just ate a meal together or took a walk or saw some local attraction.

  Occasionally, they hung out at his place or hers, but that made it too hard not to sleep together, and Joy wasn’t ready for that. So they usually spent time in public places that didn’t pose much of a danger.

  The dates often ended with kissing, and the kissing made Joy want to do more. Which made her ask herself why she kept saying no.

  “You’re scared, obviously,” Amber told her on the phone one night.

  Joy’s first impulse was to deny it, but she kept her mouth closed because she didn’t want to lie.

  “Nix isn’t scary,” she said instead. “He’s sweet and kind and generous. He’s—”

  “He’s scary as shit, and you know it,” Amber said, interrupting her. “Not because you think he’ll hurt you. But because you think you’ll screw things up and hurt yourself.”

  Joy was lying on her bed looking up through the skylight at the stars. “You know what’s annoying?”

  “What?”

  “Y
ou always being right.”

  “Also, you don’t trust him,” Amber put in.

  “Well … we’re still getting to know each other, but I’m pretty sure he’s not a closet serial killer.”

  “Very funny. But you know what I mean. You don’t trust him to stick. Because no one ever has.”

  Joy was quiet as Amber’s words sank in. Joy’s father hadn’t stuck—he’d left when she was five years old. And none of her boyfriends had stuck. Some left after they got what they wanted—usually sex—and others left as soon as Joy revealed some crack in her pretty Instagram girl persona.

  When she found out that her father had died, Joy had taken it hard, even though she hadn’t seen him in decades. Because there had always been the hope that maybe, someday, she would. All it had taken was two weeks of Joy being off—two weeks of her bad mood, her dark thoughts, her grief—and Trevor had fled like he was being chased by gunmen.

  Nobody stuck.

  “Joy?” Amber spoke up after Joy had been silent for a while. “Are you still there? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. All I meant was—”

  “It’s okay.” Joy dismissed Amber’s apology. “No, you’re right.”

  And there was another factor, as well. Joy had already been in Cambria for two and a half months, and her original intention had been to stay for six. What good would it do for her to fall in love with Nix if she was leaving in a few months? And what if Nix was dating her knowing he had a built-in out once her lease was up?

  “It’s possible I have a trust problem,” she said after a while.

  “You think?” Amber’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  “So, what am I supposed to do about it?”

  “You know,” Amber said, “you could just … embrace the risk.”

  “Embrace the risk,” Joy repeated.

  “Yeah. You know what they say. No risk, no reward.”

  Chapter 22

  They went out to dinner one night in mid-June, sharing a basket of fried clams in Morro Bay as the sun set over the water.

  He and Joy had been dating long enough that Nix had finished renovating the second bathroom, and he still hadn’t progressed to second base.

  He suspected he might have been friend-zoned—if being friend-zoned included kissing.

  Nothing to do but ask her.

  “So, I was wondering …” He picked up a fried clam, popped it into his mouth, and chewed. They were sitting on a patio facing the water, a light ocean breeze ruffling their hair.

  “You were wondering what?” Joy asked.

  “I was wondering if … maybe you’ve decided that you just want to be friends with me. Which is okay, but I’d like to know if that’s the case. Because I have feelings that are decidedly beyond friendly, and if I need to scale back my expectations—”

  “What?” Joy blinked at him in surprise, a clam frozen between her fingers in the space between the basket and her mouth. “No. That’s not … no. I don’t want to be friends.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Well … no. I’d have thought all of the kissing would have made that clear.”

  He gave her a shy half grin that melted something deep inside her chest. “That’s good to know.”

  “Why did you think that? If you think I’m not interested in you, then—”

  “It’s just…” He shrugged and avoided her gaze. “We’ve been seeing each other awhile now, and … I mean, first base is great …”

  “But you’re swinging for the home run,” she finished for him.

  His eyes widened as he rushed to correct any misunderstandings. “When you’re ready. Of course. I’m not looking to rush things, it’s just … I’d like to know if things are going that way eventually.”

  “Right. Of course.” Joy put down her clam and turned in her seat to face him more fully. “That’s fair.”

  “So, what are your thoughts?”

  Joy’s thoughts were swinging wildly from oh God, yes to panic to how soon can we get to your place to stark fear that once he had what he wanted, he wouldn’t want her.

  He’d been patient, and she’d been holding him off, and at some point things either had to move forward or they had to end.

  She could see that.

  “Okay.” She picked up her napkin and wiped her fingers carefully. “Let’s go back to your place.”

  He stared at her as though he wasn’t quite certain she’d said what he thought she’d said. “Really?”

  “Sure. I’d say the tiny house, but Otter Bluff has that nice ocean view.”

  “It … it does.”

  “We can sit out on the deck afterward and enjoy the ocean.”

  “Afterward.”

  “Yep.” She grinned at him, and her excitement began to outweigh her doubts.

  His eyebrows shot up, and he hunted in his wallet for some cash for the tip. “Let’s go.”

  On the drive from Morro Bay to Cambria, Joy kept thinking about the pound.

  Except it wasn’t just a pound anymore, was it? It had, just as she’d predicted, invited its friends. Now it was five pounds—enough that she was contemplating moving up to the next pants size.

  What if she took her clothes off and Nix was disappointed by her body?

  He’d seen her bikini shots on Instagram—he’d told her that. But that was before the five pounds. The last time she’d gained five pounds, she’d been targeted by hate and ridicule on social media, and that had been bad enough. Facing judgment and scorn in Nix’s bedroom would be so much worse.

  Of course he was too nice to say anything. He would never judge her—at least not out loud. But what if he privately thought she was so much less attractive than he’d expected her to be? What if everything about her was a letdown?

  “Is everything okay?” he asked as he drove. He shot a concerned look at her. “You’ve gotten really quiet.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind—”

  “I haven’t.” That much was true. She really did want him, really did want to feel his body against hers, touch his skin, breathe in every inch of him.

  She just hoped he wouldn’t change his mind about her when the time came.

  They held hands as they went up the front walk, and then, on the front porch, he turned to her and they wrapped themselves up in each other’s arms, falling into a deep and satisfying kiss.

  He still had one arm wrapped tightly around her as he fished around in his pocket for his keys and opened the front door.

  He pulled her inside, and then she was grabbing at his T-shirt, pulling it off over his head.

  He had a beautiful body—lean and strong—and she had a flash of worry about her own as he pulled off her shirt just as she had his. She was thankful she’d worn a pretty bra.

  “Come on. Let’s go in the bedroom.” She took him by the hand and led him down the hallway.

  When they got in there, she was thankful that the room was dark. He reached out to turn on a light, but she caught his hand before he could. She kissed the hand, then led him away from the light switch, hoping the move was more subtle than it felt.

  “I want to see you,” he said, but he left the light off as they made their way to the bed with only the light from a full moon casting a silvery glow on the room.

  She lay down on the bed and he reached for her belt buckle. “I think about this all the time,” he said, his voice rough.

  She did, too. She let him undress her, then took him into her arms.

  Afterward, Joy had expected them to enjoy closeness and warmth and happy relaxation.

  Instead, they got awkwardness, insecurity, and regret.

  “If there was something I should have done, or something I did that I shouldn’t have done …” Nix lay on his back, looking at the ceiling with Joy beside him. They weren’t touching.

  “No. It wasn’t your fault.” Joy, like Nix, stared at the ceiling as though the answers to the universe might be up there in the paint. �
�You did everything you could.”

  It had gone well at first. There had been more kissing, and a lot of touching, and some truly amazing things he’d done with his tongue. And then … nothing. Joy had thought she might get to the finish line, but she’d stalled when she was just inches away.

  “Do you normally …” He left the rest of the sentence unfinished, but it was clear what he was asking.

  She quickly did the math: truth vs. lie, fact vs. face-saving fiction.

  “Ah … well, no. Not when I’m … you know. With someone.” She opted for truth because he was special, and he deserved it.

  “What about alone?”

  She felt her face redden. “Yes. It usually goes okay when I’m alone.”

  “Oh.”

  Joy heard a universe of meaning in the oh.

  Oh, so it’s just me, then. Oh, I’m inept as a lover. Oh, then it’s entirely my fault.

  And, Oh, if no one else has achieved it, either, then maybe it’s you.

  Joy had really thought it might happen this time. She was so attracted to Nix, and everything he’d done to her had felt so good. Her hopes had been so high.

  Maybe that was the problem. Maybe the weight of her expectation had crushed her potential orgasm like a paper cup under someone’s shoe.

  “Maybe if we try again.” He raked his hand through his hair. “If you could give me a little more … you know. Instruction.”

  “Maybe.”

  But the moment was gone—she knew that. Now that they’d tried and failed to ring her bell, he felt awkward, and she felt awkward, and another go at it—at least, right now—wasn’t going to help anything.

  Joy had long since learned that faking it smoothed things over considerably. But she hadn’t wanted to fake it with Nix. She’d wanted whatever happened between them to be real.

  She rolled onto her side to look at him. “I still had a really great time.”