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Chapter 7
After a very long, very dull meeting with my accountant across town—she’s great, but let’s face it, crunching numbers doesn’t do it for me—my phone buzzes from the pocket of my leather bag. Again. I’ve been ignoring it for the last hour during my duller-than-dull meeting. I lift the phone to my ear as I step into the chokingly hot summer air.
“Yes, dear sister. What can I do for you?”
“You’re dating her now?” Julieann asks, droll.
“My…accountant? Candace is fifty-eight and married.”
“No, dummy. Allison! Like, twelve people tagged me in an online post with photos of you and her dining at Taco Bell.”
I’m standing next to my truck, fingers resting on the door’s handle while I absorb what Jules just told me.
“Jackson?”
“No. I mean, yes. We went to lunch after we picked out paint at Lowe’s, but—”
“You’re picking out paint together?”
“Picked up paint,” I correct. “Not picked out paint. She wanted to leave the house. Her mom’s house. It’s paint for her bedroom. Her mom’s bedroom.”
Flustered, I throw my bag onto the passenger seat and climb inside. How do twelve of Julieann’s friends know I was at Taco Bell with Allie?
“Hmm. Well, no harm no foul, I guess. It’s not like the post was anti-Jackson Burke or anything.”
“Okay.” I’m not sure I understand what she’s talking about, but it sounds like good news. In my truck, I put down both windows. “Thank God no one hates me.”
She laughs, knowing I don’t give a shit about what anyone says about me.
“Allie, on the other hand. What a bunch of woman-hating vultures.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, shoot. I have to go. I’m at the dentist and they called my name. Talk later!”
“Jules—” Too late. She’s gone. I wasn’t planning to go to the Murphy house today, but when I pull away from the curb downtown, that’s exactly the direction I point.
—
At the front door, I knock, then wait. My guys aren’t here. They’ve been working on a bathroom remodel since they finished painting here yesterday. I haven’t seen Allie since our (apparently) notorious lunch.
When I don’t receive an answer, I use the key. Upstairs I find a box fan still blowing on low in the master bedroom. The Soft Ocean Breeze blue paint is dry to the touch, so I shut off the fan and jog downstairs.
Indecisive for a few seconds, I debate looking for Allie or turning around to go. Unable to resist checking on her, I stroll into the kitchen. She’s sitting at the edge of the pool, wet hair trailing down her back, red bikini tied in a bow at her back and on each hip.
My heart does this weird lurch thing, and it’s that as much as my curiosity that propels me outside. At the sound of the opening door, she peers over her shoulder, big sunglasses hiding her eyes. Her full lips are unsmiling, her hands gripping the edge of the cement pool while her legs swish back and forth under the water.
“Good day for a swim.”
“The water’s perfect.”
I swipe my forehead, the swamping heat paired with the sight of her in a red bikini making me sweat.
“Get in if you want.” She tilts her head and smiles softly.
“Tempting, but…” I gesture to my jeans and tee. “No suit.”
“Well. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” She bites her lip and slides her sunglasses off her nose. Her lashes lower, taking me in before she winks.
