“Delicious choices,” the waitress responded. “Anything else?”
“Sage butter,” Jo said, selecting my favorite from their extensive butter list. “And we’ll also start with the bacon.”
My mouth watered—the bacon was one of the items this restaurant was known for.
“I’ll put the order right in,” the waitress said and disappeared from our table.
Jo turned in her chair, folding her arms over her chest, her legs crossed in the aisle between our table and the one next to us. “I did good, didn’t I?”
I shook my head, acting disappointed. “I was thinking of ordering the salmon.”
Without pause, she snapped, “Bullshit.”
I laughed. “I couldn’t have done better, honestly.”
I reached across the open space, my fingers landing on her thigh.
The move didn’t startle her—she had seen me coming.
But it startled me in the way she felt.
The warmth of her skin, the way it welcomed me.
The placement that felt so right.
So fucking perfect.
“How else can I surprise you tonight, Jenner?”
You just did.
But something told me she already knew that.
Twelve
Joanna
“Do you go to the beach in California?” I asked Jenner as we sat in lounge chairs on the sand, the warm Florida sun shining down on us, the waves lapping not far from our feet.
South Beach wasn’t the dreamiest beach in Florida, but it was still so beautiful, calm, and relaxing.
But the view had nothing on Jenner, not with his abs on full display, his pecs etched across the top of his chest.
My God.
That man was perfect.
No matter how hard I tried to look away, my eyes constantly went back to him. I was already staring when he rolled his neck toward me, blocking the sun even though he wore shades.
“No, never,” he replied. “My parents have a place in Malibu. You’d think we’d go there and spend more time outside.” He chuckled. “When we visit, we eat and then head right back to the city.”
“What a shame.”
He was quiet for a moment and said, “We should change that; you’re right.”
“Is it the lack of time or something else?”
He reached for his vodka soda, facing the water when he responded, “When you work with family, constantly making important decisions, your off time turns to shoptalk as well. Conversations about the weather turn to clients; talks about politics turn to employees.” He shook his head. “I just want mindless chatter with my family, and we can’t seem to make that happen. Before we even pour a drink, I’m already questioning how quickly I can get my ass back to LA. Jo … my brain just needs a break.”
“Wow.” I sat up, rubbing some more suntan lotion over my legs. “That has to be heavy, so mentally daunting.” I held my breath for a second. “I didn’t grow up in a house like that.”
“No?”
I squirted more lotion onto my hand and set the bottle on the table behind us. “Dad worked outside the home. Mom was an artist and had a studio off the garage. Their jobs were different animals, so their talks never seemed to go there.”
“I wonder what that would be like—if my parents had different careers and the three of us boys had taken other paths.” He put his arms behind his head. “What the hell would we talk about?”
I laughed. “The weather and politics.”
“Man,” he groaned, “that sounds even more boring than law.” He smiled as he gazed at me. “Do you have any siblings?”
I reached into my bag, pulling out one of my floppy hats, and secured it over my head. “Nope, just me.”
He rolled to his side, bending his arm, holding his face with his palm. “An only child, huh? What does that feel like?”
“In some ways, a lot like you and law—there’s pressure.”
“All the attention is on you.”
I nodded. “Exactly.” I held my fruity drink against my chest and watched the waves. “You know, my parents don’t have other children to speak about who can soften the blow, like Margie is in residency, Ralphie is working on Wall Street, but poor Jo is still trying to figure her life out.” I frowned. “I don’t have the luxury of figuring my life out. I need to give them talking points and reasons to be proud.” I took a long sip.
“No matter what you do, Jo, you’ll make your parents proud.”
“Maybe …” I gulped down another mouthful. “But what I can say is, being an only child has made me fiercely independent. I don’t need anyone to entertain me. I’m not afraid of silence or being lost in my own head. I’m also not afraid of being alone.”
Another major advantage was maturity, something that developed naturally, more so than my friends, because my parents never treated me like a kid.
I hoped Jenner felt that when he was around me—that despite being young, I was an old soul for my age.
He reached across the small space between us, his fingers landing on my bare stomach. “I don’t know how you’re not taken right now.”
I didn’t know how to take that comment.
I definitely didn’t know how to respond.
And I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear his reply if I asked him to elaborate.
What I did know was that setting expectations for Jenner and me would make me vulnerable for disappointment.
In what could be.
In myself.
I just had to accept whatever this was.
Even if I had fueled it.
I took in his eyes as his fingers lowered to my hip, circling the small area.
“Do you wish you had siblings?”
I appreciated the change of subject, my brain needing a rest.
“When I was younger, no. But now, I do. And I have one—her name is Monica.” I grinned. “When you’re an only child, it’s fully acceptable to adopt a sister or brother, and she couldn’t be more perfect. She picks up after herself. She shares. She even cooks.”
He laughed.
I loved that sound.
It only encouraged me to keep going.
“No, really.” I clarified, “We live together so well, and she’s the most amazing best friend. I’m positive that no matter where we end up, it’ll be together.”
“Is leaving Miami on the table?”
I glanced toward the water again, a view I’d been admiring for the last four years. “I graduate in two months, and I have no job. The world is on the table, Jenner.”
“I assumed you’d stay here.”
I took the last sip and set the empty cup on the table. “If I take the job with the art dealer or the private gym, I’ll be staying, but I’m keeping all my options open. Our lease doesn’t end for another four months, so that gives me time to figure things out past graduation.” I paused as the waitress approached and ordered another round for us. “Be honest,” I said as she left, “is it strange to be hearing about this post-college-life stage? You’ve been established for so long. I imagine it’s been a while since you’ve thought about any of this.”