“Uh . . . no,” Mindy says, giving me a desperate glance.
Roxy scowls. “Why not?”
“Because we’d like a little couple time to ourselves,” I say with a fake embarrassed chuckle. “A nice walk with our little friend here.”
Roxy can't come up with a reason to argue. “Well, give me her if you’re so intent on being with each other. I’ll take her to Mom and you two can go get your outdoor freak on.”
Mindy glances at me, at a loss for words. I think quickly and shake my head. “Actually, Rox, I told your mom I’d find her. I could use the rub on my rep.”
Roxy gives me a grin and a nod. “Okay, okay. Buttering up to Mom some, huh? I don’t think you need it, but whatever. Have at it.”
Roxy goes inside, and Mindy shakes her head when she’s gone. “Why couldn’t she have just listened to me from the get go?”
“Little sisters never listen to big sisters. And what can I say? I have that charm the ladies love.”
I expect some sort of rebuttal but she lowers her lashes. Her reply is almost too soft to be heard. “Yes, you do.”
We walk down to the beach, and as soon as we’re out of sight of the house, I squat down, setting Bertha down. She walks around, sniffing everything, but definitely not interested in pooping yet.
“Fuck me,” Mindy groans, then laughs at her words. “No matter what Roxy said, that’s not an invitation. Not yet.”
“Later,” I remind her, and we start walking. “So, Mindy Price, tell me about yourself. I mean, beyond what I know.”
“If you tell me about you,” she says, looking so sexy in her sundress that I forget for a moment the reason we’re down here. “What do you want to know?”
“Fair,” I reply, grinning. “So . . . first kiss. How old were you?”
“Eighteen,” Mindy says, and I stop, gawking.
“What, did they send you to an all-girls’ school or something?” I ask, trying to imagine how a girl as beautiful as Mindy Price got all the way to eighteen without even kissing a guy. “Was every guy in your school blind?”
Mindy laughs, shaking her head. “Nope. You can thank the orthodontist. I had some pretty badass hardware in my mouth for a few years. Hard to kiss a girl when she looks like an extra in a Mad Max movie. You?”
“Twelve,” I admit, shrugging. “Junior high dance. It was a dare. Trust me, I wish I had a better story. It was terrible.”
Bertha starts doing the dance, and I stop. “Wait . . . I think we’ve hit the jackpot. Come
on, Bertha, baby, show me the money.”
Mindy turns her head, shading her hand over her eyes. “Oh, my God, this is so fucking gross. I’m a coffee vendor, not a plumber,” Mindy says. Bertha finally squats and does her business. “Damn, did it come out?“
I squat down, grabbing a stick and poking in the mess. “There it is.”
“I should’ve brought a barf bag,” Mindy says, gagging. Bertha is herself again at least, running around and doing the little shake. “Well, I guess we got lucky. She looks fine like you said. Come on, let’s go back.”
“Hold on,” I say, reaching out and taking her wrist. “Q and A isn’t done yet, is it?”
Mindy looks down at my hand, then smirks. “Guess not. So, tell me, how many girlfriends did you have in school anyway, Mr. I Got My First Kiss At Twelve?”
I feel heat creep up my neck, then chuckle. I asked for it. “Zero.”
“You liar!” Mindy says with a laugh. “There’s no way you didn’t have a girlfriend. Or ten!”
I shake my head, sobering up. “God’s truth, not even in college. My father . . . well, he pushed me hard. Since my folks were divorced, he turned all of his focus on me. Nothing was ever good enough. All Conference in football? Should’ve been All State. Three point eight GPA? Should’ve been four. I was so stressed by him that keeping a real girlfriend was pretty much impossible.”
“I noticed you emphasized real.” Mindy comments, and I shrug. I won’t lie. “Thank you for not lying.”
“What about you?” I ask, trying to change the focus. “I mean, even with the mouth hardware, your personality had to have gotten you plenty of attention.”
Mindy laughs and hugs her body. “I’ve always been wild, but in that department, it wasn’t always so. In High School, I was the out girl. I was ‘that’ girl.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling drawn to her. I step closer, putting my arms around her waist from behind, and she snuggles against me.
“That girl, you know? The girl who’s fun to hang out with but nothing more. I was the walking, talking personification of the Friend Zone. That changed later, but yep, that was me then.”