Completing the Pass by Jeanette Murray

crying. But for the moment, she needed comfort.
    She must have been in a bad place if she considered him comforting.
    Draping an arm around her shoulders, he rubbed her upper arm a little and sat in silence. At one point, with the water still running, his mother poked her head in. Before she could speak, she froze, saw them together, and nodded before ducking back into the kitchen. If Carri knew Gail had seen them, she didn’t acknowledge it.
    Her scent teased his nose as she sat beside him. Something floral, but faint. It beat out the lingering scents from dinner and caused him to take note. She’d also filled out since high school, not that he spoke from experience with her body. Just, you know, a guy noticed those types of things.
    He normally wasn’t a fan of short hair on women—call him a chauvinist—but she made it look good. The nape of her neck was fully exposed, and he had the oddest desire to lean over her and brush his lips against that skin. See if she was ticklish, or would wriggle and moan and press into him. See if she tasted as good as she smelled.
    The water in the kitchen turned off, and Carri jerked up, as if coming out of a trance. Wiping at her eyes—though they didn’t appear to be wet from tears—she stood. “I should get back.”
    Josh stood as well, walking with her to the front door. She slipped her feet into sandals and peered back into the kitchen, keeping her shoes firmly on the foyer tile so as not to incur the wrath of Gail.
    Yes, they’d definitely been in and out of each other’s homes too much as children.
    â€œThank you, Gail, for dinner. Sorry my parents couldn’t stay longer.”
    â€œYou’re welcome, sweetheart.” His mother didn’t look up, just waved from where she was wrapping leftovers. “Have Joshua walk you home. It’s too dark out to go yourself.”
    Both he and Carri looked out the front door simultaneously. It was still pretty damn light out.
    â€œMom, I think—”
    â€œI’ll be fine on my—”
    â€œNo arguments,” Gail said, voice sharp. “Joshua, walk that girl home or you’ll hear about it from me.”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” he said mildly, slipping into his loafers without another word.
    ***
    â€œYour mom’s scary.”
    â€œYour mom’s no better,” Josh said, walking beside her down the driveway.
    They walked in silence for a few feet. “The moms are at it again.”
    â€œMatchmaking?” Josh shoved his hands into his khaki pockets. “Yeah, I noticed. You’re not staying long, so who cares?”
    She wanted to correct his assumption, but decided it was pointless. After another few moments of silence, she huffed. “Slow down, damn it. I’m in sandals.”
    He froze, looked back at her, then down at her feet, then the distance between them. “Sorry. Habit.”
    â€œI know. I think
slow down
was a major part of my childhood vocabulary.” She caught up with him, then wrapped an arm around his to keep him from walking away. Also something she’d done as a child, but more to annoy him than anything. Josh had hated being hobbled by a girl when running around the neighborhood with his guy pals.
    â€œI’m sorry about your dad,” he said after another few moments. Crickets sang in the bushes that lined the street while they walked, providing another trip down memory lane.
    â€œToday was a good day. Sort of,” she amended, reminded of her father’s outburst after dessert. “It’s moving so fast. I don’t know how . . . But then again, I guess Mom kept a lot of his gradual decline quiet from me. Not being here, I didn’t see it, so it feels more abrupt.”
    â€œIf she hid it, you couldn’t have known. You don’t have a crystal ball.”
    It was a supportive, kind thing to say. So very unlike Josh.
    â€œStop beating yourself up about