Free When Pigs and Parrots Fly by Gail Sattler Page B

opened. Grinning, Josh entered the work area of her clinic, carrying a bag from Bert’s Barbecue, Rufus at his side.
    â€œI brought lunch. I hope you’re hungry. They had a two-for-one deal on Bert’s house special.”
    She raised one hand without entering the small staff room. “Last night when you said you could come here for lunch, I really wasn’t thinking. We can’t eat in here. My staff room is very small, too tight for two adults and two dogs.”
    One eyebrow quirked. “Maybe, but I’m starved, and I’ve got to get back to my store soon because I’m a person short again. I don’t mind squeezing together. I don’t have time to go someplace else to eat. Besides, I don’t want this to get cold.”
    Squeezing together .
    With her reawakened feelings for Josh so raw and pressed to the front of her mind, the thought nearly terrified her.
    She cleared her throat, hoping he couldn’t hear her heart pounding. “I guess so,” she squeaked out, wanting to kick herself for not being able to keep her voice in control like a reasonable and allegedly mature adult.
    But then her life around Josh had never been reasonable. Years ago, the pending possibilities of sitting too close to Josh would have inspired him making a number of bad jokes or sarcastic comments.
    She gritted her teeth, waiting for the onslaught.
    He walked toward the staff room door. “Let’s eat before my stomach does something embarrassing.”
    Not that having a noisy stomach in front of her had ever bothered him before. However, if her stomach grumbled in front of him now, suddenly she felt like she might just die of embarrassment.
    She led him into the small room, which wasn’t much bigger than her walk-in closet at home. Actually, between the one-person sized card table and small bar-sized sink in the corner, and what her staff called the world’s smallest loveseat, everything so squished together made her closet seem like a mansion. When Scruffy followed them in, there was less room than ever.
    â€œI’ve never been back here before. It’s cozy.”
    â€œIf that’s a polite way of saying cramped, then you’re right.” Because of the size of the room, if anyone needed the table to eat, she’d purchased a folding chair. It wouldn’t work for them, however. Not with two adults and two dogs.
    Without waiting for her direction, Josh plunked himself down on the loveseat and patted the space next to him.
    Sarah remained standing. When she’d decided that it was time to see if having an adult relationship with Josh was a possibility, she hadn’t projected squishing up beside him.
    Her heart raced, and her knees felt wobbly. She probably needed some time to calm her nerves, and she definitely needed more space.
    Sara looked past the door through the window to the parking lot. “I think we’d have more room if we sat in my car with the dogs in the back seat. Or maybe we should take a short drive and go sit in the park.”
    â€œNo way. These sandwiches are going to get cold. Besides, I already told you, I don’t have that kind of time today.”
    Sarah stiffened her back, sucked in a deep breath, and squeezed down into the small seat beside him, pressing against him from hip to knees. She didn’t like it. Her feelings were still too raw to deal with this.
    She cleared her throat. “This is embarrassingly close. I don’t know how any manufacturer can ever claim this comfortably seats two people.”
    Instead of squishing himself against the arm of the cramped loveseat, he raised one arm and rested it on the back of the seat, behind her. “I don’t know. I guess that’s why they call it a loveseat. It implies that two people would want to sit close.”
    She couldn’t help her awareness of Josh’s arm behind her, sitting in a way guys typically sat, completely unaware of the awkwardness