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“And believe me,” Avery added, “I saw how Reynolds looked at you. Don’t sell yourself short—or him, for that matter. Reynolds is a good man, and he can see everything in you that we can, probably even more.”
Avery had a point. Reynolds was too good of a man to base his interactions with someone on their looks.
But that didn’t mean he could control who he was or wasn’t attracted to.
It was one thing for Waverley to embark on this new life, one that wasn’t going to care about what people thought about her or trying to please them. But just because she was no longer going to agonize that she wasn’t a size two didn’t mean she didn’t recognize there were limits to being a plus-sized woman.
“You know,” Meg said a little more tentatively, “as a woman who probably suffers some of the same self-doubts as you, I can understand why you might think like you do. But what if you’re wrong? What if there’s a chance that Reynolds does want more? Like Poppy, I have it on some authority myself that he was looking at you with a little more interest than just a friend.”
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Avery said, holding her hands up.
“So maybe you can try and forget why you think he can’t like you and see what could happen if he does. I mean, you’re going to be going away with him for the whole weekend in the freaking Florida Keys. What could be more romantic? If I were you and I was going away with someone I had the hots for, I’d be playing up the whole fake boyfriend thing every chance I got. Sneaking in some handholding, maybe a few butt grabs and kisses.” She sighed wistfully. “Lots and lots of kisses.”
There was a moment of silence as they processed that.
“That’s it. We really need to find you a date, Meg,” Avery said and they all laughed.
With that, the attention thankfully turned away from Waverley and Reynolds as they listed potential guys who Meg could ask out.
But she saw from the glint in Avery’s eyes when she cast a glance her way, there would definitely be a long list of questions waiting for her from these women when she got back.
She just hoped she would be capable of distinguishing fact from fiction by then.
Chapter 16
It was four thirty by the time they reached their destination on Friday. And it looked just like Waverley remembered.
A large Spanish-style two-story monstrosity that sprawled across more than two acres of land, from the road to the waterfront, with large white pillars adding architectural interest in the front and a grand set of stairs leading up to the entrance to give a taste of the opulence waiting inside. Around the back and currently out of view, she knew there was also a pool, a small, sandy beach with an incredible view of the sun rising or setting on the ocean, and that there was a dock with a boat launcher for the two boats of various sizes the Jacksons owned along the northwest end of the property.
At least the overall immensity of the place should give them some semblance of privacy she was going to need over the next couple of days.
Reynolds whistled as he parked the car and looked up. “The insurance on a place like this must be mind-boggling.”
Men. Always thinking such practicalities.
But at least he was making eye contact and conversing normally with her again.
When he’d picked her up this morning, she’d been a ball of nerves, wondering if he was going to continue to be the moody grump that he’d been at the office. And although he wasn’t waxing poetic about how she looked when she sunk into the car seat or asking her any more personal questions about her childhood, he was almost amiable. He’d talked about the case he was on, which opened up the discussion to some of the best and worst cases he’d ever taken on, which had her laughing more times than she could count.
By the time they reached Denver and got on their flight to Charlotte, things were as they’d been before that almost kiss. Or what she thought was an almost kiss. For all she knew, he’d been staring at the blackhead on her nose that she found later that night.
When she didn’t say anything about the size of the insurance deductible, Reynolds turned to her, a hint of concern in his tone. “You doing okay?”
She turned to meet his gaze, noticing not for the first time today how casually sexy he looked in a white linen shirt, aviator sunglasses, and the hint of scruff along that strong jawline.
She shrugged and tried to smile. “As good as I would expect. Let’s just get this over with.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said and gave her a wry grin before getting out of their rental car and heading to the trunk for their luggage.
Waverley got out, looking up at the house with trepidation, made worse when she saw the leggy brunette coming down the stairs to greet them. Tracie Jackson. Fellow sorority sister who’d taken pleasure in tormenting Waverley during rush.
Show time.
“Waverley?” Tracie asked as she drew closer. The woman was wearing a crocheted swimsuit cover-up that did little to cover up the tiny white bikini underneath and carrying an icy drink that looked like a margarita in one hand. She paused as she looked Waverley over, almost uncertain, before settling her gaze on Waverley’s face. “It is you.”
“In the flesh.”
The woman could spot a knockoff pair of Louboutins from twenty yards away, so it was unlikely that she’d failed to notice Waverley’s newest dress size, no matter how flattering today’s outfit might be. But to the woman’s credit, she barely blinked as she smiled her pearly whites.
