“I thought you were going to take me to your house again,” she says, taking a bite of her carne asada taco.
“Yeah, well there is more to me than just sex.”
“Really?” she asks, sounding surprised. “I didn’t realize that.”
I sigh. “Wow, JoJo. You don’t see me as anything but a piece of meat?”
“Relax,” she says, shoving me playfully with her elbow. “I’m giving you a hard time. I know Ryan McQueen is actually a deep, highly-evolved, complicated man.”
“Well, let’s not get nuts.” I take a swig of Coke before answering. “Evolved, sure, but complicated? Not really. I put it all out there, no hidden agenda or secret ambition.”
“So you just want to be a stripper for the rest of your life?”
“Ouch.”
“No,” she says, laughing and waving her hands in defense. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I actually think it’s pretty cool. Like, so many people are obsessed with ruling the world, controlling everything. Not satisfied with just being who they are. But you are. You found something you like and are good at. Not everyone can say that.”
“Personal experience?” I ask, appreciating the chance to talk with someone who doesn’t dismiss my career as a short-term job opportunity.
I love dancing—making people smile and laugh and get out of their heads for a few hours. I don’t want to be some asshole in a suit, running a company or dealing with bullshit employees.
I want to be a stripper, and I love that JoJo understands that.
“I guess.” She shrugs, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “I mean, fighting is awesome, and I’m good at it. But it’s not the end all, be all, for me.”
“What is then?”
“I went to college, got a degree in psychology. Which is about as bullshit as any degree is … but it’s not like I’m ever gonna go to grad school and be a psychologist.”
“Well, what do you want to be then? If not a psychologist, and not a fighter? What are your plans? I mean, you’re twenty-three. At some point do you want a job or something?”
“I can’t think long-term right now. You know how I said my family needs my help? Well, my sister kicked her husband out and is refusing to be a grownup. They have three kids, and I’ve been at her place every day this week helping—getting them fed, and to school, and basically everything. I don’t know when she’ll snap out of her funk, but until then I’m on Auntie duty.”
I take her hand, kiss the top of it. “You’re a good person, JoJo.”
“No, I’m just doing my part. Anyone in my shoes would do the same.”
“Don’t do that … sell yourself short.”
She sighs. “I know Kit doesn’t understand, but I’m only here right now because Lucy has the baby. I actually need to go pick her up soon.”
“Lucy’s your best friend?”
She nods.
“And the baby is your sister’s?”
“Yeah, Justice is seven months old.” JoJo smiles. “And she’s so cute, but damn, she has a temper like her mother.”
“Is your mom not around to help?” I ask her, knowing my own mom has been wanting grandkids ever since my brother and I moved out.
“My mom died five years ago,” JoJo tells me. “In my family, I was most like her. We were cut from the same cloth, you know? And without her, the whole family became less soft. Me included. I mean, I spent the last year at Kit’s gym. I’ve become harder than I want to be.”
“Awww, hard-ass JoJo is actually a softy.” I lean close to her and our foreheads touch.
“Shut up, Ryan.” Our eyes meet, though, and it’s like neither of us wants to pull away.
So we don’t.
I let my lips find hers, brushing against them softly, and she plants her mouth on mine. It’s a kiss filled with longing, and I know she and I are not over.
We’ve only just begun.
“Come to my show tomorrow,” I tell her, then I kiss her again.
Chapter Thirteen
JoJo
“This is amazing,” Lucy says, standing in my sister’s walk-in closet.
The closet holds so many designer clothes it could be its own storefront. The only problem is, it’s a complete disaster zone. Sure, Mary has over a hundred pairs of stilettos, but they aren’t organized in any way. The clothes are in piles on the floor or falling off hangers.
In short: a total wreck.
“I swear I had a black maxi dress in here somewhere,” Mary says, rooting through a pile.
“You can’t wear a maxi dress to this club,” I say, eyebrows raised as I reposition Justice on my hip. “You need something sexier.”
“Connor would kill me if I wore something that flaunted anything.”
“Which is the exact reason why you should,” Lucy says, laughing. “You’re falling apart because you’ve been chilling in the Mom-zone too long. You need to remember how hot you are.”
“Let’s have this conversation when you’ve been married a decade, okay?” Mary rolls her eyes.
“Try this,” I say, holding up a green dress that has a high neckline, but a revealing slit on the side. “It will look great with your hair.”
Lucy agrees. “And can I borrow these?” she asks my sister, holding up red satin Jimmy Choos.
“Sure. I mean, you’re going to look like a movie star, but one of us ought to look drop-dead tonight.”
Lucy is five feet nine inches, a size four, with natural blonde hair to her waist and naturally big boobs. She’s basically Las Vegas on crack. She’s already in a teeny-tiny strapless black dress, and with those heels even I feel a little hot for her.
“Shut up, you’ll look great in the green dress. We just need to find Jo something to wear.”
“Maybe I’ll just stay here with the kids. We can cancel with your roommate.”
“No way,” Lucy says. “I got Trish to babysit. We are all going out. How often do we get VIP passes to a club on opening night?”
“Never.” I sigh, thumbing through a few more outfits.
“Nervous about seeing McQueen?” Lucy whispers, eyebrows wiggling seductively.
“Seeing who?” Mary asks, stepping into the dress.
“No one,” I tell her, shaking my head at Lucy. She’s such a freak sometimes. I told her my family is not to know about McQueen under any circumstances.
It’s all a cluster because Lucy still doesn’t know about the Grotto situation. Because how do I tell my best friend that in a few weeks I’m marrying a known criminal? It’s too much.
Of course when McQueen invited me to the club I told him yes, even though a resounding no would have been much more appropriate.
The truth is, I want to go. After our kiss yesterday afternoon, all I can think about is his mouth on mine … and how badly I want his mouth everywhere.
But I’m not stupid. I need to cover my bases and play it safe. If I show up with my sister, even if my family finds out, they won’t connect the night to me being out with my secret lover.
Not that McQueen is my lover … he just was once. Or twice. Okay, it was actually three times.
And I’d like him to be again.
Gah. Okay. Focus on this moment.
“How about this one?” Lucy asks. It’s a white bodycon dress with a zipper down the front.
“Why do you even own that?” I ask my sister. The tags are still on it, and it’s the trashiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. But the skanky dress gives me an idea. A good one.
“I thought I’d spice things up with Connor.”
“And what happened?” I ask, holding the dress up to myself in the mirror. “You chicken out?”
“No.” Mary scowls at me. “Then he probably didn’t come home for three days, Josephine. God, what you think? That I want my marriage to fall apart? This is his mess as much as mine.”
“Okay,” I say, kissing Justice’s chubby cheeks to avoid my sister’s nasty gaze. You’d think with all the help from Lucy and me this week she be a little nicer, but I swear she is just one step away from a bitch slap 24/7.
“I’m gonna buy you a lap dance tonight, Mary,” Lucy says, laughing. “You need to chill out.”
“Seriously,” Mary agrees. “Maybe a hot male stripper in a VIP room is exactly what I need. I heard the headliner is a serious hunk.”
“Hunk? Mary, people don’t use that word,” I tell my sister, my whole heart fluttering. The concept dawns on me for the first time, what seeing McQueen on the stage means.
Everyone else will be seeing him up there, too.
Not wanting to dwell on that realization I take charge. “Let’s just get dressed and go. Trish will be here any sec, and this baby needs to get to bed. I’ll go get Bailey and Hardy on a movie, okay?”
As I go to the rec room to find my niece and nephew, I take deep breaths. Seeing the guy I’m falling for naked on stage is no big thing. I’m getting married next month, so this shouldn’t bother me at all.
But it does.
McQUEEN
The club is full. Women from all over the country have arrived in sleek limos and chauffeured town cars, getting out of their rides and stepping onto the red carpet that’s rolled out for them.