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“Don’t make me all horny again,” she whispers. “We have company!”
I suck on her bottom lip before letting her go. “No shit. You’re killing me, Legs.”
I offer to take the pitcher and cups, and Lu hands them over. “I heard you offer them wine. I’ll get that, you get this.”
How do we already make such a great fucking team?
And how do I not fall head over heels in love with this girl after three days together like a fucking chump?
Back up on the deck, Mom introduces Lu to Marsha. Lu immediately wraps her in a hug.
“So how did y’all meet?” she asks when we’re all seated. The table is set with cups of Lu’s delicious gazpacho and glasses of ice-cold white wine, Mom’s favorite. I stick to Topo-Chico.
Tugging at one of Tom’s ears, Marsha grins at Mom. “In France of all places.”
“I’d always wanted to go to the brocantes over there, and Riley was kind enough to take me. You know, the—”
“Flea markets. They’re famous.” Lu looks at me, bewildered. “Another thing you did, taking your mom abroad.”
I told Lu often how much I wanted to see the world with Mom. Mom had always dreamed of traveling but couldn’t afford it.
Mom glances between us, brow furrowed. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’ll explain later, Mom. Keep going with your story.”
Her eyes linger on me for half a heartbeat before she turns back to Lu. “The brocantes are famous for good reason. We found so many lovely things there. Anyway, I’d wanted to go to Paris for as long as I could remember. Six years ago, Riley bought us plane tickets for my birthday. And who do I sit next to at breakfast in our hotel when we land?”
Marsha grabs Mom’s hand. “Me!”
“Love at first sight,” Mom says.
Marsha lifts her gazpacho with her other hand. “It was for me. By the way, Lu, this is delicious.”
“How romantic. And thank you. I thought it’d hit the spot with this heat, so I just threw together a batch with what Riley had in his kitchen. Luckily he likes vegetables.”
“He does.” Mom’s brow is still furrowed.
Marsha runs her thumb over the back of Mom’s hand as she finishes what’s left of her gazpacho. “You just threw this together? Pretty excellent for something you made on the fly.”
“It’s the sherry vinegar. And the delicious tomatoes,” Lu replies.
I turn my head to look at her. Bump my bare foot against hers underneath the table. “It’s you.”
And I mean it. The gazpacho is delicious. Just the right balance of refreshing and flavorful.
“You have a talent, my dear,” Mom says.
Lu bites her lip as she slides her foot over mine. “Thank you.”
“Y’all are cute,” Marsha says.
She and Mom are smiling at us. I’m not one to blush. But damn if heat don’t flood my face at their attention.
I look at Lu. She looks back. Judging by the playful glint in her eye, she knows they’re watching us too.
I fight the urge to lean in and kiss her. I don’t think she’d mind, but we still haven’t talked about where we stand. She’s comfortable getting cozy with me, sure. But kissing in front of other people? I can’t say. She may think PDA equals a relationship, and since she just got out of one of those—since we’re so new—she may not be comfortable with that.
There’s our history to consider too. Mom doesn’t know we dated, and I’m pretty sure Lu’s picked up on that fact. Makes me think Lu might feel weird throwing it all out there, all at once, in front of my mother.
Whatever the case, we have footsy. And the rest of the night, thank God, to get handsy.
“So y’all live on the island?” Lu asks.
She listens intently as Mom and Marsha talk. They live in a cute townhouse right here in Harbour Village. It’s close to Marsha Marsha Marsha, which of course Lu asks about.
She shakes her head. “What a dream come true.”
“It really is.” Mom looks at Marsha. “Took a long time to get here, but the detours were worth it.”
Lu leans an elbow on the table, running a hand through her hair. It’s dry now, dark waves everywhere. Looks sexy as hell as it brushes over the bikini straps on her shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder if the detours are it. Where we learn what we need to know.”
“Where we learn who we are.” I refill Lu’s wine glass. Marsha’s too.
Lu picks up the glass and sips. “And who we aren’t.”
“Knowing that is just as important,” Mom says.
Marsha holds up her glass. “To the detours. For helping us get where we needed to go.”
My stomach grumbles audibly. Lu looks at me and frowns. “Still hungry? Here, let me see what else I can—”
“Stop.” I put a hand on her arm. “I’m okay, really.”
“You’re hungry. How can you be okay? You had some sweet corn down there that looked good. Y’all just give me a minute.”
