your germs all over my asparagus rolls?”
Josie smirked at him.
After the asparagus was gone, Molly showed them how to assemble the chicken appetizers. It was a slightly more complex process as it contained more ingredients. Josie thought it may be considered some kind of torture to ask them to work with delicious-smelling food without feeding them first.
“This chicken is really good,” Tag leaned toward Josie and whispered in her ear as soon as Molly stepped into the bathroom.
She ignored the goosebumps caused by his breath on her neck and whispered back, “Don’t tell her that.”
He frowned, “Why?”
She glanced at the closed door, “Cause then she’d know you were eating it.”
He smiled and popped another piece in his mouth. Josie rolled her eyes at his blatant disregard for Molly’s warning.
“So,” he stopped working to look at her, “what did happen to the harness?”
She hesitated a moment before answering, “It got caught in some gears.”
He jerked back a little, “Gears?”
“See I was up on top of the roof and the gears were down here,” she held her hands up to demonstrate, “and then I jumped through the skylight.”
“Wait,” he waved his hand, “you actually went through the skylight? It wasn’t just a set?”
She shook her head, “There wasn’t a good way to make it look realistic otherwise. Anyway, I got half way down, and I was going really slowly, of course, and my foot hit a piece of the machinery.”
Tag glanced to the door to see if Molly was coming out yet.
She wasn’t, but Josie lowered her voice anyway.
“The sound was really loud, and it echoed up above. The guys thought that was the cue for letting go of someone else’s line, but I wasn’t out of the way. Andy came down on top of me.”
“You were both still in harnesses?” he clarified, popping another piece of chicken in his mouth.
She nodded, “And there wasn’t really any place for me to go, but if you see a guy come barreling down on you, you try to move. I wiggled around and reached for a beam to get out of the way. I got myself out of the way fine, but my lines were right under him, and he got tangled up in them.”
Tag cringed.
She nodded, “I went flying after him, and my lines got tangled with his as well as in the gears.”
He groaned in empathy.
“I was about five feet from the ground when I hit the gear itself and tore my harness.”
“How’d you land?”
She grinned, “On Andy.”
Tag laughed at that, “Lucky guy.”
Josie blushed.
He pretended not to notice as he went back to working.
She decided to change the subject, “You know, Tag, my dad could probably look at your file.”
“What for?” he continued to slice pickles.
“To determine if there is anything that indicates you are a woman-hater.”
“Tag’s a woman-hater?” Molly came from the bathroom.
Josie glanced over her shoulder, “Not that I know of.”
Tag set down his knife and looked at Molly, brows gathered, “You’ve known me for a year, Molly. Have I ever given you a reason to believe I was a woman-hater?”
Josie did not know Tag well enough to determine if he was offended, but he did look serious all of a sudden. She guessed he might be a little insulted.
“Actually,” Molly answered him as she wrapped the chicken with the pickles and dill, “promiscuity and frequent but non-committed relationships are often signs of distrust of women. It would stand to reason that the distrust would be linked to a hatred for women.”
Tag’s eyes widened, “Who said I was promiscuous?”
Molly lifted the pan from the stove and set it in the sink to soak, “Not that I am going to admit to paying attention, Tag, but you have occasionally had a different girl up here every day of the week.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m promiscuous. It means I date a lot.”
“I apologize,” she looked him in the eye. “I should not assume I know what you are doing with those ladies. However, my point
Josie smirked at him.
After the asparagus was gone, Molly showed them how to assemble the chicken appetizers. It was a slightly more complex process as it contained more ingredients. Josie thought it may be considered some kind of torture to ask them to work with delicious-smelling food without feeding them first.
“This chicken is really good,” Tag leaned toward Josie and whispered in her ear as soon as Molly stepped into the bathroom.
She ignored the goosebumps caused by his breath on her neck and whispered back, “Don’t tell her that.”
He frowned, “Why?”
She glanced at the closed door, “Cause then she’d know you were eating it.”
He smiled and popped another piece in his mouth. Josie rolled her eyes at his blatant disregard for Molly’s warning.
“So,” he stopped working to look at her, “what did happen to the harness?”
She hesitated a moment before answering, “It got caught in some gears.”
He jerked back a little, “Gears?”
“See I was up on top of the roof and the gears were down here,” she held her hands up to demonstrate, “and then I jumped through the skylight.”
“Wait,” he waved his hand, “you actually went through the skylight? It wasn’t just a set?”
She shook her head, “There wasn’t a good way to make it look realistic otherwise. Anyway, I got half way down, and I was going really slowly, of course, and my foot hit a piece of the machinery.”
Tag glanced to the door to see if Molly was coming out yet.
She wasn’t, but Josie lowered her voice anyway.
“The sound was really loud, and it echoed up above. The guys thought that was the cue for letting go of someone else’s line, but I wasn’t out of the way. Andy came down on top of me.”
“You were both still in harnesses?” he clarified, popping another piece of chicken in his mouth.
She nodded, “And there wasn’t really any place for me to go, but if you see a guy come barreling down on you, you try to move. I wiggled around and reached for a beam to get out of the way. I got myself out of the way fine, but my lines were right under him, and he got tangled up in them.”
Tag cringed.
She nodded, “I went flying after him, and my lines got tangled with his as well as in the gears.”
He groaned in empathy.
“I was about five feet from the ground when I hit the gear itself and tore my harness.”
“How’d you land?”
She grinned, “On Andy.”
Tag laughed at that, “Lucky guy.”
Josie blushed.
He pretended not to notice as he went back to working.
She decided to change the subject, “You know, Tag, my dad could probably look at your file.”
“What for?” he continued to slice pickles.
“To determine if there is anything that indicates you are a woman-hater.”
“Tag’s a woman-hater?” Molly came from the bathroom.
Josie glanced over her shoulder, “Not that I know of.”
Tag set down his knife and looked at Molly, brows gathered, “You’ve known me for a year, Molly. Have I ever given you a reason to believe I was a woman-hater?”
Josie did not know Tag well enough to determine if he was offended, but he did look serious all of a sudden. She guessed he might be a little insulted.
“Actually,” Molly answered him as she wrapped the chicken with the pickles and dill, “promiscuity and frequent but non-committed relationships are often signs of distrust of women. It would stand to reason that the distrust would be linked to a hatred for women.”
Tag’s eyes widened, “Who said I was promiscuous?”
Molly lifted the pan from the stove and set it in the sink to soak, “Not that I am going to admit to paying attention, Tag, but you have occasionally had a different girl up here every day of the week.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m promiscuous. It means I date a lot.”
“I apologize,” she looked him in the eye. “I should not assume I know what you are doing with those ladies. However, my point
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