“No. He’s basically moved in to the waiting room, and it’ll take a crane to get him out.”
He was that desperate to see her? Why?
Palms beginning to sweat, she fluffed her pillows and decided to put him out of her mind. He’d leave soon enough. Surely.
“Help me make a fun list,” she said. Despite the change in her circumstances and the looming possibility of having to nail down a third job—whimper—she wasn’t going to abandon her plan to enjoy life. Not anymore. But the list she’d made with Kenna had failed to inspire her, which was probably why she’d never made a real attempt to work through it. She needed a new one. One tailored specifically to her.
Jessie Kay pulled her chair closer to the bed. “Ohhh. A fun list. You certainly came to the right person.”
“An expert.”
“Do you want X-rated, PG-13 or PG?”
No need to think about it. “PG-13.”
“Boooo, hiss.” Jessie Kay made a face and gave her a thumbs-down. “Mild wild girls don’t have as much fun.”
“This one will.”
Jessie Kay tapped her fingers together, saying, “Well, the first thing you’ll need to do is flash a room full of men. At a bar!”
Ugh. The crowds. The music. Drunks who might grab what they shouldn’t. “No, thanks.”
“Write it down,” Jessie Kay insisted, pointing to the notebook. “Or I start counting.”
“Fine.” She wrote “Flash one man, preferably a boyfriend” and said “I’m also writing ‘hustle someone at pool and/or poker.’” While she wasn’t the biggest fan of the skills her uncle had imparted to her—all those late nights in smoky pool halls and man caves learning with the best—she decided to take something that once pained her and turn it into something that amused her. Kenna was right. The past created who a person was, but shouldn’t define who they could become. “Oh, and I’d like to attend a wine-and-cheese tasting.”
Jessie Kay’s head fell on her shoulder, her eyes closed. She let out a loud, exaggerated snore.
“Am I boring you to sleep?” Brook Lynn asked.
Her sister peeked through her lashes. “To death.”
“Too bad for you. Because I have never been so alive.” She wrote down “Drink whiskey straight from the bottle” and “Smoke a cigar.” Oh, and “Learn how to properly fight zombies.”
The notebook was snatched out of her hand. Jessie Kay read what she’d written and gagged. “When did you become a Victorian maiden living in a paranormal-romance world? Should I write down ‘learn to do the scandalous waltz while turning into a vampire,’ too?”
Brook Lynn grabbed the notebook and spoke aloud the next words she wrote. “Shave off all my sister’s hair. Have a secret identity for a day, and host a mystery dinner.”
“Touch my lustrous mane and lose a hand,” Jessie Kay said, fluffing the mane in question. “Honestly, you’re seriously depressing the crap out of me right now. You need to add ‘oil wrestling with a guy dressed like Tarzan.’ Oh, oh, and ‘holding a long, hard—’”
Looking down at her list, she lost track of her sister’s words. She wrote the dreams she’d had since she was a little girl...and a curious teenager. “Rescue a dog from a shelter” and “Dance for a hot guy, preferably the boyfriend I flash.”
Jessie Kay might have been the one to take ballet lessons, but Brook Lynn had been the one who’d yearned to spin and pirouette and dress as the swan princess. And, okay, sure, no guy on the planet would find her attempt at ballet sexy. But she could certainly perform some kind of naughty striptease.
What would Brad think of this desire of hers?
What would Jase think?
She trembled.
Nope. No. Not going there.
Maybe she needed to forget the men of Strawberry Valley and say yes to the next citidiot who asked her out. He wouldn’t be boyfriend material, but he also wouldn’t stick around town and gossip about her lack of talent. Of course, he wouldn’t settle for a few hip thrusts, either. He’d want all her clothes to come off and her backside grinding into his crotch until he reached a happy ending. Which wasn’t actually a half-bad idea, except for that last part...and it would certainly stop Jessie Kay’s snoring fit.
A tap on her arm had her glancing up. Her sister’s mouth was moving, but her gaze was not on Brook Lynn.
“—be in here,” she was saying.
Brook Lynn smelled him before she saw him. Honey-and-oat-scented soap. Tingling and heating, she turned her head and found Jase standing at her bedside. His features were taut, his arms crossed; the muscles beneath his skin flexed. His clothes were wrinkled, proof he’d slept in the waiting room, unwilling to leave her.
And I don’t have the lady balls to talk with him? I suck.
“Give us a few minutes,” she said to her sister.
“Are you sure?” Jessie Kay asked, looking nervous on her behalf.
No, but she nodded anyway.
After giving her hand a final comforting squeeze, Jessie Kay strolled out of the room and shut the door behind her.
Brook Lynn drew in a deep breath and faced Jase. He wasn’t peering at her, but at the wall over her shoulder. He plowed a hand through his hair and stalked to the chair Jessie Kay had vacated. She watched him, silent, unsure. Waiting, hoping. Dreading.
Finally, the wait proved to be too much.