“Jerk,” the woman mumbled as he walked away.
He lost track of Jenna as he rounded the dance floor, where half-naked twentysomethings clad in short shorts and bikini tops, or tank tops and board shorts, twerked and grinded against one another. He looked down at his black T-shirt, speckled with sawdust, and his dirty jeans, streaked with varnish and caulk. It was dark out, and the tiki lights weren’t that bright. He hoped no one would notice. He moved in closer just as Jenna pushed through the crowd, her hand trailing behind her, attached to Doophus.
Pete’s hands fisted and his eyes narrowed. Jenna turned and placed one hand on Doophus’s chest, the other still holding on to his hand. It took all of Pete’s focus to refrain from storming onto the dance floor, swooping her fine little body into his arms, and whisking her away. Forget this. I’m only here to make sure she’s okay, and she’s fine. She’s all-too fine.
Jenna turned, and their eyes caught. Her smile faded, and that befuddled look he knew too well fell into place like a mask—eyes wide, mouth agape. Her hand dropped from Doophus’s chest and she fidgeted with the edge of her skirt—and Pete found her reaction adorable.
Too stinkin’ adorable.
Chapter Three
THE NEXT MORNING Jenna crouched beside the basket of flip-flops on the front deck of her cottage. Crows cawed from their perches atop pitch pine trees surrounding the small community. The stupid things had been cawing since dawn, grating on Jenna’s nerves, which were already fried. She’d been up all night organizing and reorganizing in an effort to figure out what Pete was doing at the Beachcomber last night. She turned at the sound of tires on her crushed-shell driveway.
Leanna jumped out of her 1968 Volkswagen Bus, or as she called it, her happy mobile, because of the hand-painted beach scene that ran from front to back and the gigantic blue dragonfly covering the driver’s door. Her father had restored the van as a college graduation gift. Never one for subtlety, Leanna adored the bikini-clad women that covered the center of the van and the half-moon with a face painted on the rear panel.
“Did I miss coffee?” Leanna set a plate of scones on the table.
Jenna shaded her eyes from the morning sun and smiled up at her friend. Leanna’s tank top was already streaked with jam. Her cutoffs had red finger marks along the hip.
“No. In fact, we need to get Bella and Amy because I’m going to burst if I don’t get out of my own head.” Jenna set the flip-flops that she was stacking in neat color-coordinated piles into the basket by the door. “Come on.” She pulled Leanna by the hand, and as they rounded Jenna’s cottage, they ran into Bella and Amy, coffee mugs in hand.
“We were just coming over.” Bella was still in her nightie, while Amy had on flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt that read, Purrdy, above a picture of an animated kitten wearing lingerie and lying in a provocative pose.
“Sorry we took so long. I wanted to bring you these, but it took me forever to find them.” Amy reached into her pocket and handed Jenna a pair of thick, black sunglasses.
“What are these for?” Jenna put on the glasses on the way back to her deck, where her tepid coffee cup awaited. They settled in around the table.
“It’s Tuesday.” Amy nodded toward the pool. “I figured if you’re really trying not to focus on you know who, better to make it hard for you to see him.”
“Shoot. It’s Tuesday?” Pete cleaned the pool Tuesday mornings. Jenna ran to the edge of the deck and looked down by the pool, where Vera was already sitting beneath an umbrella reading. Luckily, Pete’s truck was nowhere in sight. She looked down at her clothes before joining the others. At least she’d already showered and changed into her bikini and cutoffs. Wait. Why do I still care what he thinks?
“Don’t worry. You look hot.” Bella held up a scone like she was toasting champagne.
“I don’t care if I look hot.” Bull. “I’m pissed at him anyway.” Jenna snagged a scone and shoved it in her mouth. Raspberries melted in her mouth alongside a buttery shortbread flavor that caressed her taste buds into a frenzy of delight.
“Wow, Leanna. How do you make these so good?”
“I use the right amount of ingredients, and I don’t mix up the salt and the sugar,” Leanna answered. Jenna couldn’t cook if her life depended on it. For a woman who needed everything in order, when it came to ingredients and directions, she had yet not to ruin whatever she was making. Needless to say, Jenna ate a lot of toast, salad, and frozen dinners.
“Ha-ha. I did that once,” Jenna said with a smile.
“Twice,” Amy said.
“Thirteen times,” Bella added.
“Whatever. I think if you queried men, they’d choose a woman being good in the bedroom over the kitchen.” Jenna popped another piece of scone into her mouth. “I happen to be amazing in the bedroom.”
“Hey! I happen to be good in both, thank you very much. More importantly, why are you pissed at Pete?” Leanna cocked her head in question.
Jenna leaned forward and lowered her voice. “He showed up at the Beachcomber last night and totally messed up my perfect date!”
“Whoa. Hold on.” Bella set down her coffee and held her hands up, palms out to silence everyone’s gasps. “Pete showed up? Coincidentally, or showed up like”—she deepened her voice—“I’m gonna check out my competition?”
“I don’t know. I was up all night trying to figure it out, but whatever it was, he was there. And, of course, when I saw him, I froze.” Jenna threw her head back with an exasperated groan.
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry.” Amy patted her forearm. “But can we rewind just a tad? Perfect date? So body boy had more going on than pecs and privates?”
Jenna laughed. “Pecs and privates. Love that, and especially love that it came out of our prim-and-proper sister’s mouth. Yes. He was interested and interesting. It turns out he’s a big-time reader, and you know me and books. We talked about all sorts of things.”
“And?” Bella ran her hand through her thick blond hair.
“And nothing. The minute my eyes connected with Mr. I’m Not Interested, I lost it. I was like a mute bimbo. I couldn’t even dance. And the jerk took off right after he saw me.” She pointed at Bella and narrowed her eyes. “I think Pete was spying on me.”
Bella, Leanna, and Amy exchanged knowing looks and coy smiles.
“Mm-hm.” Amy smirked. “So, our friend Pete might be more jealous than we thought. I told you he had that look in his eyes when you and body boy were talking.”
“Charlie. Okay? His name is Charlie.”
The sound of tires on gravel sent their eyes to the road. Pete pulled up in his old blue truck, one arm casually hanging out the window, tanned biceps on display.
“Shoot,” Jenna whispered.
“Hey, ladies.” He waved and flashed a killer smile that made Jenna’s entire body tingle.
She turned away, embarrassed that while she was supposed to be pissed at him, her body betrayed her.
“Hey, Pete.” Amy waved. “Want a scone?”