Page 101 of Back for Seconds

Her fingers flew over the keys in a beige blur. It was impossible to hold back a smile.

Vin nodded; he was just as ambitious as his little sister. “Ok, I’m getting a call from the office at the resort and triple-checking everything’s all good to go. Shit—Dante texted. Gotta go. Talk soon, keep me posted.”

“You got it, Captain. See you soon.” After a few more goodbyes and rounds of affirmations (me affirming Vin, obviously), we hung up.

In the new year, June had vowed she would repair her relationship with her older brother. It wasn’t about family, she’d told me, it was about forgiveness. And Vin deserved an apology. It’d gone well, I guess—because next thing I knew, June was talking nonstop about his new job as a resort manager in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Then they were working together to organize this trip.

And organizing these people made catching snakes look like a children’s game. Suddenly, I understood June better than ever. Her precision; her loving, protective relationship with her mom; her quick wit and fearlessness.

I picked up my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and rolled June’s carry-on over to the bar. “AnneMarie,” I said softly, slipping onto the stool next to her. “You ready?”

“Oh, Joey.” She let out a silent laugh behind a manicured hand. “I don’t think I’ll ever really be ready.”

AnneMarie’s boyfriend—a hulking, handsome sexagenarian named Dante—was meeting us in San Juan, flying in from Dallas where he still lived part-time. June and I had pieced together, based on some really ham-fisted questions, that Dante was planning to propose. June, knowing how nervous her mom could get, had given her a head’s up.

“He’s too good for me, I think.” Her blue eyes took on a faraway quality as she pushed the last bits of her salad around her dish. “He’s perfect, down to his belly button.”

I hid a grimace. I really did not want to think about Dante’s belly button. “He’s not too good for you.” I gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “You’re perfect for each other.”

“Howdy ho.” Sal plopped down next to me, looking gray and exhausted. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing.” I pressed my lips together, holding back a cheeky smile. “Not a thing, buddy.”

June

By the time Joey and I made it into our hotel room—beautiful, enormous, ocean-view—we wanted to do nothing but flop down, face forward, onto our king bed and sleep for twelve hours. Of course, when the crisp hotel sheets slipped around us, our minds and hands wandered. It was just so easy. Loving him.

Eventually, we rolled out of bed, our hair ruffled and frizzy, pulled on our bathing suits, and went down to the ocean. The hot air was a welcome balm on our skin. We swam in the warm surf and then fell asleep, again, on beach chairs, fingers tangled in the sand.

Tonight felt like a big night, even though I trusted it wouldn’t be. I was really done with big deals. I liked subtle shifts, like Joey spending some nights at the house on Venus Avenue even though I’d very quietly been moving into his cabin since fall.

I didn’t spend too much time worrying about the future. If it was just this—just me and Joey putting one foot in front of the other for the rest of time, I’d be ok.

We roused from our nap when the sun began to set, but we didn’t move from our chairs. Joey’s nose had turned brown in the sun, which meant I was definitely burned on my shoulders and forehead.

Joey, with the sunset reflected in his eyes, felt too far away, all the way across the evil little gulley made by our chairs. As if he could read my mind, he reached for my chin, brushing the rough pad of his finger back and forth. “My beautiful June.” Then he grinned at me. That lopsided smile. That handsome face that had come across my screen and changed everything one year ago. “I really, really want to ask you to marry me.”

Something wonderful and warm constricted in my chest. Yes. Every atom in my body said yes. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. “Not tonight. I don’t want to take anything away from them.”

“I know.” He leaned over, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Then he straightened in his chair and unzipped a little hidden pocket in his swim trunks, producing—almost out of thin air—a gold band. “I know you hate diamonds, and rubies, and probably sapphires. So, it’s simple. And I have it, for whenever you’re ready.”

I gulped back a sob—or maybe a gasp. The band was beautiful. Thick, shining gold with small pavé diamonds pressed in. One after another. Simple. Subtle.

When I wore it, it would look like we were already married. “Oh, Joey.” I looked up at him. “Can I just try it on?”

“Of course.” He moved to sit next to me on my chaise lounge wrapping his arms loosely around my waist as I slid the ring into place.

“It fits perfect.” I turned into his body and kissed his jaw, relishing the gentle scrub of his stubble against my lips. “You’re perfect. I have something for you too.”

He furrowed his brow at me. “Seriously?”

I reached into my purse and pulled out the single silver key I’d been carrying around for the last year. “This is a key to Genie’s. The original location my dad owned on the boardwalk. My dad…” I shook my head. “Remember that fight I told you about, last year? He gave me Genie’s—and I do not want it. But I thought you might.” I handed him the key. “You were the first person I thought of when he gave me this key.”

“June, this is…” Joey blinked, shaking his head. “I can’t accept this.”

“Of course, you can. Joey, we’re going to marry each other. What’s mine is yours.”

“Holy shit, Junebug.” He laughed as tears gathered in his eyes. “This is the best thing that anyone has ever done for me. You really think people would want to eat my food?”

“Are you kidding me?” I reached for him, taking his face in my hands. “They want to eat your food and drink your piss.”

He let out a big bark of a laugh and wrapped his arms around my waist, yanking me over onto his chair. He dragged my body up his, and I shivered at the feeling of his soft, warm skin against mine. I buried my face in his neck, drinking in the smell of his shampoo. I covered the muscular column of his neck in kisses. He felt like home.

“Do you still love Christmas?” Joey asked, his lips pressed to the shell of my ear.

I smiled, happy tears pooling along my lash line. “I think maybe New Year’s is more my thing.”