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“Wow. I mean, usually I work on commission,” he said dryly, “but… I think Fabienne would be down with that if she could watch.”
I laughed fully this time. “How soon can I see the space?”
“Hmm… Little Marie and I could meet you outside Sweet Buns in, say, an hour?”
“Perfect! I just need to go home and change,” I said without thinking.
“Gohome? You’re out already?” His voice lowered. “Do tell.”
“Nothing to tell,” I lied as I jogged up the stairs and opened the front door. “I’ve been out jogging. See you in an hour.” I disconnected before he could ask me any follow-up questions.
I wasn’t going to say a word about anything Flynn-and-Frog related. I imagined one of the Honeycutts—or, worse, one of the Wellbridges—teasing Flynn about it andshuddered. Flynn would retreat behind a wall so high I’d never see him again. And I very much wanted to see him again… as soon as possible.
The way he’d given himself to me, responded to me with such perfect vulnerability, and begged me, “Please don’t leave,” was everything I’d wanted from him three years ago. Hell, everything I’d wanted from him even back in high school. In fact, it was all I could do not to run back down the hill to the Tavern and wrap him back in my arms.
One night had not been enough.
“Jonathan!” my mother called from the doorway to the dining room when I stepped into the front hall. She was already neatly dressed in a pair of crisp white cropped pants and a sporty sleevelessblouse. “Darling, why aren’t you dressed for golf?”
“Uh.” I frowned down at my running shoes. “WhywouldI be dressed for golf? I hate golf.”
She blinked, bewildered. “Of course you don’t. You’ve golfed since you were tiny.”
“And I’ve hated it since I was tiny,” I agreed. “Probably had to do with the plaid knickers you used to make us wear.”
“But… the Wellbridge family always golfs the day after the regatta.” She patted my chest lovingly. “Go and get changed.”
“Not this Wellbridge,” I said firmly. “Oh, hey. Do you know what to bring to a potluck?”
Mother’s eyes widened. “Apotluck.”
“Yeah. Jace Honeycutt is having one, and everyone is supposed to bring—”
She shook her head so fiercely her blonde bob swayed. “Iknowwhat a potluck is. Since when are you going to potlucks at Jace Honeycutt’s house?”
I shrugged. “Since he invited me, and it seems fun.”
“Darling,” she said with strained patience. “We don’t—”
“ButIdo,” I said, my temper building. Or at least I wanted to start.
For the first time in a long time, my mother looked at me—reallylooked—like maybe she heard what I was saying and understood the boundary I was drawing. She nodded slowly.
Then she completely ruined it by saying, “Do you supposeBrantleighwould enjoy the potluck? If that’s what you young people are—”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “No. No, I do not think Brantleigh would enjoy a potluck. Brantleigh doesn’t enjoyanythingbecause he’s an entitled ass.”
“Jonathan!” She glanced around the front hall as though Brantleigh—or his father—could appear at any moment… which I supposed they could.
“And while we’re on the subject…” I drew her into the dining room for a modicum of privacy and lowered my voice. “I have several things I’ve been meaning to say to you. Number one: I willnotbe sent on any more dates. No.” I held up a hand when she opened her mouth to interrupt. “If you and Dad want Thatcher Pennington’s support, one of you can date Brantleigh.”
She pursed her lips. “That wasn’t my only reason for hoping you two would hit it off. Brantleigh is…young,” she said diplomatically. “But he comes from a good family. He’s socially adept and can be quite charming when he tries to be, which could help you with your career. He could be a support for you. A real partner, like your father is to me.”
Had she never had a conversation with Brantleigh?
Not delusional, just Patricia Wellbridge,I reminded myself.
“Mother, I don’t want to date someone because they’re socially adept and charming. I want…” Prickles.Thunder. I cleared my throat. “I don’t know what I want or if I even want anything. I never really imagined myself with a life partner. But I do know that I’ll find him for myself. And,” I added, “he willnotbe a person you’ve trained to be rude to the Honeycutts.”
