Pastor McDaniel stands tall, his chest puffing out like a caricature. “There was no hope for her either.”
Well, that was uncalled for. I swallow down my offense. “Still making it to your AA meetings?” I ask, watching with interest as Pastor McDaniel’s face seems to swell. Maybe his collar is too tight. Having been friends with his son, Jasper, all through school, we’d all had a front row seat to the town pastor’s fall off the wagon.
“Jazz,” Joey hisses at me and takes my arm. I shrug him off, smiling through my inner discomfort. “No, it’s fine. I need to go pick up some steaks anyway.” I bite my lip. “Good to see you, Pastor. Tell Jasper we said hi.” I walk off, stuffing my temper under a tight wrap. I expect Joey to follow but he doesn’t.
I dart into the next aisle to gather myself.
Hearing Joey’s voice, I strain my ears to eavesdrop.
He’s talking quietly but firmly. “Don’t you dare insult Jessica Fraser.”
“Look, son, you’re a bright young man, but you have to know how it reflects—”
“She’s one of the bravest and most soul deep beautiful girls I’ve ever known.”
I put my fist to my mouth, biting on my knuckles.
“And keep your filthy hands off my family home,” Joey adds.
I wish I could see McDaniel’s face right now. Actually, I’d like to see what Joey looks like when he’s mad at someone other than me.
Realizing Joey is about to walk around the corner, I tiptoe quickly down the aisle and around the other end cap, beelining for the meat section. My mind is reeling. I blink rapidly as my eyes sting. It’s one of the most beautiful things Joey has ever said about me, and I wasn’t supposed to hear it.
And it sounds like Joey and Keri Ann are still having problems with the town council about their house. The Butlers of Butler Cove are supposed to be a legacy, and their house is supposed to be a monument to the town’s founding, not an eyesore. But leave a dwindled family fortune and two orphaned kids trying to get an education and there isn’t a lot left to fix up houses with. Hence why Joey is so focused on getting through school and into a solid career as fast as possible before they lose the house. The responsibility he feels must be overwhelming. My chest tightens.
STANDING IN THE entrance hall of the Butler house, a home I’ve practically grown up in, suddenly feels foreign. The dark wood floors, the grey walls, the high ceilings with dentil molding, it’s all familiar. But this is different.
In this reality, I’ve willingly come here to spend the night with the one man who is uniquely equipped to snap my heart clean in half. Actually, what am I saying? There’ll be nothing clean about it. It will probably be a jagged ripping and shredding, leaving two unusable parts. So painful, I may never recover.
Yet, here I stand.
I’ve gone ahead into the house without him. Joey is still grabbing the groceries as if we are some domesticated couple who buys groceries together. I want to hang up my beach towel and change out of my bikini. But I’m paralyzed, having not gone farther than a few steps into the house. What are we going to do? Make dinner? Watch a movie? When we go up to bed, will he just assume I’m coming to bed with him? Will I just assume I am? I’m starting to panic.
His footsteps are coming up the porch steps. He opens the door behind me. “Hey—”
I turn to face him, and something flickers across his face. He uses his foot to close the door behind him and carefully sets each grocery bag down on the floor not breaking eye contact.
I think he’s trying to figure out what’s going through my head. If I’ve changed my mind.
Have I changed my mind?
He looks as if he’s about to approach a spooked horse. His dark blond hair is tousled, windblown from the boat.
I must look the same. My skin feels tight from sun and salt.
“Jazz,” he says softly.
Words are stuck in my throat. I want to tell him I’ve changed my mind. Spend the night with him? I must have taken leave of my senses. I have been thinking after all, I’d say. That this is a very, very bad idea.
He walks toward me.
I take a step back, careful to put my hands behind me to check how close the wall is. Close.
He doesn’t say anything. Just waits. I want to be thinking this through, but his nearness makes my mind blank.
And, like taking my jump off the top of the boat today, I act before I can talk myself out of it. I reach my hands up and tug his face toward me.
He lets out a breath that sounds like relief and steps into me. Our mouths meet. It’s been too long.
His lips open within seconds, and I groan at the feel of his tongue.