Will that ever be close to enough after Jason?
The kitchen’s back door opens and Birdie walks in, forcing my troubling thoughts away. Hesitating in the doorway, she sends me an arch look. “Hi.”
“Hello! How did you keep busy today?”
She closes the door slowly, chin tucked into her chest. “I might have…met some friends for gelato.” When I stare back at her with an open mouth, she gives me a grudging half-smile. “So…you’re cooking for us.”
“Yes, well…” I gather my hair and throw it over a shoulder. “I didn’t get a chance to run to the store today and Jason…when I saw him in the driveway a while ago…he mentioned he had ingredients just lying here unused. And frankly, I was flat-out sad thinking of you having to eat his cooking day in and day out—”
“It finally happened, didn’t it?”
My cheeks smart, spatula frozen in my hand. “Beg pardon?”
Birdie leans on bent elbows over the island, eyebrows ticking up and down like a hungry cartoon cat. “You and Jason finally did the damn thing.”
“Birdie Bristow.”
Her laughter rings through the kitchen. “Must have been good if you’re cooking him dinner.”
If I harass this asparagus any more, we’ll have to eat it in shreds. “This is simply not a conversation we should be having.” I set down the cooking utensil and turn, trying to look casual. “Just out of curiosity, what gave you the impression that the damn thing was done?”
Birdie’s lips jump. “You have beard burns all over your neck.”
I smack my hands over the offending skin, knowing my face is red as cherry pie filling. “It could have been sunburn.”
“But it’s not. It’s Jason burn.”
I groan up at the ceiling and try not to giggle. “Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable to talk about your brother in such a manner?”
She shrugs, ducks her head. “A little. But I’m happy enough to get over it.”
“Happy?”
“Yeah.” Vulnerability flits across her features. “I guess I’m pulling for you guys.”
My stomach hollows out. “Birdie…I have to leave after the pageant. Nothing is going to change that.” I swallow. “If there was a world where I could stay, you would be enough on your own to tempt me into it.”
Her smile warms in degrees and stays there. I return it across the island, marveling over how close I’ve become to this girl who was a stranger to me until recently. This amazing girl I never would have known unless I’d taken a leap. This is proof that following your gut is never wrong. I’m going to keep on taking leaps, I vow to myself. No matter what happens in this life. No matter where I go or what commitments I make, I’m going to keep this one to myself. I’m never going to settle for being unhappy. I’m never going to be someone who is settled for. I’m more than that. The girl looking back at me believes I am…and I hope I’ve helped convince her of the same.
Down the hallway, the door to the bathroom opens and the bottom drops out of my stomach. Jason’s heavy footsteps eat up the distance to the kitchen and he comes into view shirtless, board shorts riding low on his hips. His gaze swings from me to Birdie. Back to me with a slow wink. “Need some help?”
Birdie props her chin on a fist. “You could get her some cream for her Jason burn.”
Pausing in his reach for a beer inside the fridge, his low chuckle reaches my ears a second later. “Maybe I like it right where it is.”
Jason’s sister lets out a crack of laughter.
I whirl back toward the stove. “You two are…” With a creeping smile, I change tactics before I know what I’m about. “Exactly right. It compliments my eyes. I think I’ll leave it.”
An arm wraps around my waist and I’m lifted up on my toes, a laughing male mouth finding the curve of my shoulder, a bearded kiss warming me there. Tingles ripple down to my toes, leaving me weightless and covered in goosebumps.
“Hey, hey, whoa. Being aware of the goings-on and seeing them are two different things,” Birdie whines from behind us, although I can hear the amusement in her tone. “I’m launching a formal protest.”
I wiggle out of Jason’s grip and try to subdue my smile. It doesn’t work whatsoever, so I face the stove and continue to mutilate the asparagus. “Not so cocky now that I’ve called your bluff, are you?”
A glass of wine is set down on the counter beside the stove and I look up to find Jason’s absently returning the corked bottle to the fridge. “Oh,” I breathe in a simpering voice I used to have reason to feign. Not anymore. I’m in full simper mode. “Is that…”
“Don’t ask me if it’s the right wine, beauty queen,” he drawls, without looking at me. Like a cool cowboy. “Just assume.”