Joshua Healy (Mitchell Healy Book 10) by Jennifer Foor Page B

released on Tuesday. I know, because I’ve had one ordered and got a notification that it was delayed.
    “How did you get this?”
    “I preordered it. My buddy works at the game shop. He called to tell me it was there earlier in the week and I’ve been too busy to pick it up.”
    “Tell me you have more than one paddle at your house.”
    “I’ve got a lot more than that. So are you up for an all night duel?”
    I bite on my bottom lip and smile from cheek to cheek. I know it’s nerdy and most people won’t understand, but this makes me giddy. “You bet your ass I am.”
    Even though I've been to the ranch before, I still feel a bit overwhelmed when we enter the property. It's dark, so I'm unsure exactly which road we've taken to arrive in front of his parents large country home. From the outside lights, I can see it has a wrap around porch, and that the color of the house is either yellow or tan. Josh waits for me to grab my bag before he leads me up the stairs and then inside.
    Immediately I smell cinnamon. A small lamp has been left on in the front living room, and one of those wax warmers sits beside it, probably where the scent emanates. A set of stairs face me, and up them are tons of pictures strategically hung on either side of the walls. In the distance I can see the entryway to the kitchen, but Josh doesn't give me the tour. Instead he takes my hand and pulls me up the stairs. We get to a foyer at the top and he turns to face me. "Promise you won't judge me?"
    "How bad is it?" I'm picturing naked posters and bottles of Vaseline on his nightstand with porn magazines all over the floor. Instead he opens the door and I realize it's nothing less of a disaster.
    "Wow. Is anything dead in here?" It doesn't smell. I'm just praying that there's nothing under the heaps of dirty laundry that's going to jump out and attack me.
    He's laughing, like my disgust amuses him. "Another thing you don't like about me. You wanted honest, well it doesn’t get much more real than this."
    Being a neat freak has its benefits. I don't lose things. "You bring women up here like this?"
    "On occasion." He sits down on his bed. "Deal breaker?"
    "That depends," I say as I pick up a few empty cans of soda.
    "On what?"
    "On if you're willing to help me clean it, because there is no way I’m sleeping in here with it like this. I feel like I’ve entered my fifteen year old boyfriend’s room. Your mother must want to hog tie you up and bleach you."
    "I like it this way," he argues. “When it gets too bad, my mom comes in and straightens up.”
    "And you think that’s okay? Wow. I knew you were spoiled, but this…” I shake my head some more. “I really hope you don’t expect me to stay here with you."
    Josh shrugs. "I was going to suggest you sleep down the hall, since you want to take things slow. Your words, not mine."
    I pick up a pillow and throw it at him. "If you want to ever have permission to get in my pants again, you’re going to have to tidy this place, or else I'll be forced to take this body somewhere else."
    "You wouldn't dare," he tests.
    I probably won't, but he doesn't know that.
    "Try me."
    He mumbles something under his breath and shakes his head. "I've got a better idea. Go on down the stairs and look around. I saw you eying up the photographs. When you're done you won't recognize the room. You'll see."
    “I’d rather help.”
    “No faith that I can get the job done?”
    “I’m a bit scared I may never see you again. Someone could get lost in the heaps of laundry.”
    He points at me and chuckles. “I want you to know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.”
    “I feel unequivocally special. Beyond words,” I say sarcastically.
    Josh takes my hand and pulls me on top of him. We’re wrestling around in the sheets, him tickling me until I scream for him to stop. Then he’s hovering over me, those lime green eyes peering into my soul. My hands reach up and rest on each of his cheeks, his stubble tickling