She squints one eye. “Nah. I like Jungle Jim better.”
With a roll of my eyes, I push up off the couch. “I’ll think about it.”
“Yes!” She pulls a fistful of air to her side. “And I expect a full report.”
“Should I fill out a satisfaction questionnaire?”
Her eyes light up. “Oh, we should so create one of those. It could have questions like Rate your lover’s thrust depth, on a scale of one to ten. One equals Is it in yet? Ten being Beyond my belly button.”
A giggle bubbles up from my chest. I can never stay mad at Leigh. She’s too full of spunk and life, and that keeps me going, especially when all I really want is to roll into a ball on the floor of my closet and die.
“Rate your lover’s bedside manner—is he neat and tidy or wild and ravenous?” Leigh’s fun is interrupted by ringing.
“Oh, that’s Pat.” I pull my phone from my pocket. “Hey, how are you? Everything okay?”
My ex-mother-in-law clears her throat. “Hey, Kelsey. Everything’s fine. She’s been having a ball. I wanted to check with you to make sure you don’t mind if I take Clarissa to the water park. We’ll have James with us, and he said he’ll take her around to the slides.”
A shaft of fear stabs through the pit of my stomach—Clarissa at a water park, with hundreds of people milling around? Every opportunity for her to get lost or someone taking her or worse. I shudder.
I shake it off and suck in a deep breath.
Her cousin has always been sweet with her. “James doesn’t mind? I mean, he’s not going to get tired of having a three-year-old tag along?
“He’s looking forward to it.”
“Is Matt going too?”
“I did ask, but Matt said he’s busy—with that girl.”
That girl. My heart shudders at the thought of exactly who that girl is, and what she used to mean to me. Pat insists she’ll never accept her, even if Matt marries her, because she can’t be trusted.
My mind trips through hard memories, and I struggle to swallow.
Pat breaks into my thoughts. “James isn’t taking a friend. It’s only going to be the three of us. We’ll keep an eye on her.”
“You remember that Clarissa can’t swim, right?”
A tisk-tisk comes through the phone. “Of course I know that. She’s my granddaughter, silly. Don’t worry. We’ll watch out for her.”
I bite my lip, glancing at Leigh.
Her eyebrows rise in question.
I mouth water park to her.
She immediately gives me a thumbs-up with a giant smile and a nod.
I push my mothering fears aside. “I guess it’s all right. Please, watch her. She’ll wander off if you aren’t careful.”
Pat chuckles. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she comes home in one piece.”
I swipe my thumb across the screen.
“You worry too much. Clarissa’s going to be fine—with or without Matt. And you need to trust the people in your life to help you with her.”
An overwhelming mixture of loss, fear, and anxiety surge to the back of my throat, tightening it. “It’s hard.”
She leans in, her arm circling my shoulder and pulling me close. “I know. But hey, look at the bright side—you have a hunky new neighbor who’s willing to be your go-to get-laid guy.”
I close my eyes, shaking my head at my friend’s one-track mind. The image of Adam, shirtless and glistening with sweat, looms in my memory, warming parts of me that, for far too long, have been left cold.
THREE
The end of Chloe’s tail twitches, and she makes that weird crackling sound as she sits on the windowsill watching the birds.
An unexpected cool-front came in last night, and I opened all the windows this morning to let the house air. It’s not often that it’s nice enough in June to have nothing more than a screen between the inside and the outside.
Chloe discovered the birds a few minutes ago, settling in, face pressed into the mesh as she poises to pounce.
From my spot at the end of the sofa, I smooth my toes across her spine. “Sorry, stinker. The screen protects you from getting your ass kicked by a mockingbird.”
I adjust my laptop and pull my focus to the almost blank page. Still very few words. My publishing date is approaching fast, and I can’t seem to find three words to string together. It’s like sludge is stuck in my creative well.
The waves swell beneath the ship as it carries me across the seas. Arranged marriages should be illegal.
The last person I want to wed is that insufferable Lord my father thinks will make a good match. He’s a cad.
A whine from the other side of the window draws my attention.