Claimed By The Cowboy. Sarah M. Anderson

friends with.

      And oh, hell. This was a date.

      Those two things were quickly followed by a third, even more terrifying thought—it was too late to back out now.

      “Lucy!” Josh came around the table and made a move as though he was going to hug her, but then he pulled up short and instead just put his hands on her shoulders. “You look great,” he said.

      It was the kind of thing that he could’ve just tossed off as a social nicety. But his gaze traveled over her body—which made her want to curl up self-consciously into a small ball and hide. This was painful. Excruciatingly so. She knew she was a failure when it came to sensuality. Heck, wasn’t that why she’d put on the cardigan? Because it hid her shapeless body—and it was as close to her lab coat as she could get away with outside the hospital?

      Then he added, “Wow. You’ve really grown up,” in a tone that was uncomfortably close to reverential.

      Was that a compliment? It had to be. There was no mocking eye roll, no barely contained snicker behind his words. And, truthfully, she was pretty sure she’d be able to tell. She’d always been able to read Josh better than his own mother.

      No, he was being sincere. And that somehow made everything worse. Lucinda forced herself to smile. “So have you. I’m surprised to see that hat isn’t chemically bonded to your head.”

      “Hey!” Josh yelped in mock embarrassment. “At least I stopped sleeping with it on.”

      Against her will, Lucinda laughed. “Maturity in action, huh?”

      Josh tried to look sheepish and didn’t quite manage it. “Here,” he said, stepping to the side and pulling out her chair for her. “Let me get this for you.”

      Yeah, this was a date. Back when they’d been friends in high school, Josh had treated her exactly the way he’d treated Gary—no special favors, no coddling. And certainly no holding chairs for either of them.

      Her heart began to pound wildly as she sat. What was she doing? She didn’t date. She didn’t go out. She worked and she slept, and that was it. If this really was a date—and all signs seemed to be pointing to it—she had no idea what she was supposed to do or when she was supposed to do it without making a total fool of herself.

      All she knew was that she was not going to make a fool out of herself. Not again.

      Josh crossed to the other side of the table and sat down. “I don’t know about you,” he said in a light tone, “but I spent all day dealing with the Newport boys. I need a beer.”

      Okay, she could do this. As long as she didn’t throw herself at him again, this would be fine. “And I was handling the Winchester girls,” she admitted. That information didn’t violate the HIPAA privacy laws, especially not when Josh already knew what was going on.