She also seemed to be in love with the idea of setting Kai up. Jessie hated whenever Grams asked her for advice or help in finding Kai a girl. He was fine being young, single, and free. He didn’t need to be saddled with a relationship right now. Although, in a bit of a shocking revelation, Grams had hinted that she wasn’t necessarily talking about a “relationship” for Kai; she’d even used the phrases “sow his oats” and “explore his options”. Jessie still had a hard time believing the old woman was actually suggesting her grandchild should sleep around. Shouldn’t all parental types be opposed to such a thing? At least on the surface?
Jessie felt heat rising in her cheeks as she pulled her hair into a curly French twist. She couldn’t even think about Kai’s love life without thinking of their intimate moment together. It haunted her sometimes, slipped into her mind at the most inopportune times. For that reason alone, it was a small relief to her that she hadn’t seen him in a few days, regardless of how much she missed him. Kai had a way of looking at her, being close to her, or even just breathing on her that instantly shoved Jessie’s thoughts into the “do not enter” zone. Space was good. Distance was good.
And hard.
Jessie was ready to see him again. Aching for it really. Once she was home for the day, she frequently found herself imagining that she was knocking on his door. She pictured how surprised he would be as he laughingly swept her into a hug. And of course, he was almost always shirtless in her fantasies. Jessie couldn’t help it. He had a pleasing shape. Wrong as it was, she ached to see his body again, too.
Jessie did often wonder how he was getting along without her. Not that he needed her or anything, but she liked to think that he was missing her as much as she was missing him. What he was doing wasn’t as much of a mystery. Jessie and Kai usually exchanged texts throughout the day or talked on the phone. He also called Grams a lot, and the old woman seemed to relay every single in-depth conversation they had back to Jessie. If Jessie were a different sort of person, she might have been a little jealous over how close Kai and Grams were. But she wasn’t that type of girl. And really, it only reaffirmed why they had to stay away from each other. He was family—beloved family. There was just no way to get around that fact.
Gram’s conversations about him usually centered around Kai’s job, and she always seemed concerned when she brought up his work. Jessie couldn’t be sure, but she felt like Grams was waiting for something bad to happen. Jessie had no idea what that might be. From all of Gram’s stories, it was pretty clear that Kai was loving it there. He’d healed from the bee fiasco, and luckily hadn’t had any other sting incidents, and was thoroughly getting into the plant and animal life of the Rocky Mountains. He’d even adjusted to the new time zone and wasn’t suffering from as much exhaustion.
Jessie was happy to hear it. He’d seemed so tired when he’d fallen asleep in her arms, his own wrapped around her. Those warm, strong arms…
Sighing, Jessie gazed at herself in the mirror. A couple of untamed strands had fallen out of the clip securing her thick locks in place. Refusing to redo the style, Jessie tucked them behind her ear. She shouldn’t think about cuddling with Kai, about him asking in a whisper if it was all right, then telling her that she felt good. Those words should not give her stomach a jolt of electricity. But they did.
Watching her deep brown eyes start to water, Jessie shook her head and turned on the faucet so she could splash her face with cold water. She shouldn’t linger on that last kiss either; her lips pressing into his mouth, him responding ever so slightly. The softness, the heat, the light exhale along her skin… She needed to move on from the memory, and so did he. Maybe Grams was on to something. Maybe she should set him up with someone. Maybe she should set him up with April, since April still asked Jessie nightly if her mysterious cousin was making an appearance anytime soon.
Straightening, Jessie dried her face and started doing her makeup. Their tryst had only been a week ago. A week ago tonight. Was that long enough for her inebriated friends to forget his face? Jessie had no idea. Only one way to know for sure, she supposed.
Slipping on her shoes as she sat on her bed, Jessie glanced out her bedroom window. On her cement patio, under a shaded overhang, was a round table with two matching chairs. It was the wrought iron type that you might see outside a small Parisian café. Jessie stood up and walked over to the window to look at it closer. It was a tiny set that had seen better days. The girls never really used it, as evidenced by the spider webs laced throughout the bars. Jessie occasionally went out back to read a book in the sun, but she generally sat in the more comfortable lounge chair when she did.