Perfectly Charming (A Morning Glory Novel Book 2) (10 page)

It wasn’t.

They said good-bye in the driveway of her condo with a quick hug. He might or might not have huffed her hair like teenage glue addict. And then he’d gone home alone. Alooooone.

He wanted to kiss her, tell her to let go, to not worry, to be in the moment. With him. But chapter fifteen held him back.
Give her space. Be her friend.

“Hey,” Jess said from the open doorway.

Inside he did a happy dance though outside he remained cool. Sliding the jalapeño he’d diced onto a saucer, he quickly wiped the counter. The small cuts burning on his fingertips were hazards of being a fisherman. “Everyone ready to eat?”

“I think so,” she said, taking in the food. “Uh, that guy Logan just asked me out.”

Ryan froze. “He did?”

“Yeah, out of the blue. We were talking about dolphins, and he asked me if I wanted to go on a dolphin cruise tomorrow afternoon. It was odd.”

Not so odd. Jess was naturally gorgeous and didn’t try as hard as Morgan and Becky. Logan was the kind of guy who liked cool chicks. Logan also liked big breasts, which was why he’d hoped Morgan’s pendulous attributes might hypnotize him . . . or Marcus. Either way, as long as one of them took her focus off Ryan. Obviously, he’d underestimated how much Jess would appeal to his friend. “So are you going to go? I thought you weren’t ready for . . . dating.”

“I kind of have to. I already admitted to having no plans for tomorrow. Besides, turning him down would have made tonight awkward.” Jess frowned.

But she could turn Ryan down? Okay, so she hadn’t actually turned him down. Merely implied she wasn’t ready to move beyond where they were. But now she was going on a date with Logan the accountant? Perfect.

“You’ll have fun. He’s nice guy,” Ryan said. ’Cause what was he going to say?
I invite assholes to my party. Don’t get near him. And damn sure don’t go dolphin watching with him
? Or maybe he should tell her he wanted to peel her clothes from her body, lick her stomach, move lower . . .

No. That’s stalkerish. Control your impulses. Remember who you are—a seasoned pro who can control his desires, his mouth, and his need to watch
Star Trek
.

“Are you sure you didn’t suggest he ask me out?” Jess asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Why would I do that?” His tone said it all. He didn’t want any other man near her. Hadn’t she gotten that from the other night? Or maybe she hadn’t really known what he’d asked. Maybe she still thought of him as some kid.

“Because I’m new to town and you’re being a good friend?”

Okay, she hadn’t gotten the message. He’d read a lot of books on understanding women, but perhaps he needed to be more clear about what he wanted . . . without talking about licking her body. “I’m not that good of a friend.”

Jess stared at him for a moment. “So I should probably go with him. It would embarrass him for me to back out of it even if I still feel like . . . ugh, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or who I am supposed to be anymore. This is so stupid.”

Ryan didn’t offer any words. Because at that moment, it occurred to him that maybe his plan to grow into something more with Jess wouldn’t work because she was too screwed up. And it pissed him off that asshole Benton Mason was once again the reason Ryan couldn’t have what he wanted. Back at Morning Glory High, Ryan’s dream was to just be normal. Presently, his goal was to have Jess. But like a bad bean burrito, Benton’s selfish, immature actions were stinking things up for Ryan. Jess’s ex-husband had pushed Jess aside, but he’d hurt her so much in the process she couldn’t find her way back to normal.

“Oh God,” Jess said, slapping a hand against her forehead. “I’m that woman. Oh Christ, please don’t let me be that woman. A whiny, pathetic loser. I mean, I ran in here and told you like you were going to tell me what to do. I’ve lost my goddamn mind. Sweet Jesus, who am I?” She spun to walk out of the galley, obviously disgusted with herself.

He caught her arm. “Hey, you just took the Lord’s name in vain four times in ten seconds. Come on, Mississippi. Don’t make me call your old Sunday school teacher.”

“Seriously,” she said, her eyes shining with disbelief. “That’s your response?”

Oops. Try again, Ryan.

“I’m joking. Look, stop thinking so hard about everything. Chill,” he said.

“Chill,” she repeated. Then she curled her fingers over his. “I
should
just chill. You’re right.”

“Hey, it’s been my motto for the last year, and it’s working for me,” he said. Her touch wasn’t electrifying or erotic, but it was somehow profound. She’d never touched him intentionally before, and her fingers curled against his reminded him of eighteenth-century poetry, like Pope’s “The Rape of the Lock,” the ironic profundity of a simple gesture taken to new heights. To her it was no big deal, or perhaps it was; he didn’t know. But to him, it confirmed only what he knew. Ryan Reyes hadn’t lost any of what he’d felt for Jess Culpepper. She still had him in her hand, whether she knew it or not. He was poised to be her puppy. Embarrassing but true.

Whatever she wanted, he’d give her. Even if that meant watching her have it with another man.

Morgan entered the kitchen, her eyes riveting to his hand on Jess’s forearm. “What are y’all doing? We’re, like, starving out here.”

Ryan pulled away from Jess, snapping out of the trance she’d put him under. She had him discombobulated with the whole vulnerability thing. Jess had never been weak; she’d never asked anyone for anything in all the time he’d known her. Something about rescuing her appealed to his machismo.

Maybe he needed to step away from Jess and look for the man he’d been for the past year . . . before he had to go out and find tampons for his vagina. The thought made him smile. “I’m putting the fish on the grill now. Won’t take long. Morgan, you want to grab the plates?”

“Sure, babe,” she said, sliding past Jess, giving her a possessive look. Then the younger woman slid an arm around his waist and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t go getting the hots for our nurse friend here, Ry. Logan already asked her out. I told him we’d go with them to Perdido Key. A double date. Won’t that be fun?”

Ryan slid his arm around Morgan and gave her a quick squeeze. Jess’s gaze dropped to his hand on Morgan’s naked waist. “I see dolphins every day, Morgan. I’m not sure I want to waste a day off watching them.” He pulled away from her and occupied his hands with cleaning the knife he’d used earlier.

“No day is a waste when you’re with me, honey,” Morgan said, slapping him on his ass and grabbing the plates and napkins he sat on the table.

“You should come with us,” Jess said, her tone even. But he knew she didn’t want to go on a date with Logan alone. She wanted buffers. Had nothing to do with him, which sort of hurt. Why didn’t she tell Logan no? Why didn’t she put her arm around him and claim him . . . the way Morgan had been trying to do for the past month? If Jess was going to jump into the dating pool, why not do it with him?

He was afraid of that answer.

Maybe it was because he and Jess had history. He knew her past with Benton. But the biggest reason he feared she wouldn’t give him a shot at romance was he’d been the Brain. Being who’d he’d been all those years wasn’t something a guy got over easily. When he thought back to the boy he’d been, he winced. Horrible clothing—baggy parachute pants, ninja T-shirts, and Chucks—paired with thick glasses did nothing for him. He’d been painfully skinny, pale, and prone to forehead acne. His teeth had been yellowish, and he’d carried around a binder with Pokémon cards so he could easily trade at school with the other outcasts. When they’d finally found him in the storage closet in the gym, an ambulance had to be called. His reputation was hard to surmount. Then he’d made a thirty-six on the ACT and received the National Merit award . . . and gotten accepted into Mensa. With Jess, he couldn’t hide who he was beneath the tan, bleached teeth, and gym-honed muscles. She knew the real Ryan. She’d already seen the locked door to his truth.

“You don’t have a charter tomorrow. Marcus checked the marina log,” Morgan said, sliding past Jess. “It will be fun, and I promise not to get wasted this time.”

Jess’s eyes pleaded with him.

Like he could turn her down . . . or leave her to a very handsy Logan. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Yay,” Morgan said, clapping her hands, leaving the galley.

Ryan shrugged and said in a sarcastic voice, “Yay.”

Jess was having a personality crisis.

That was the only explanation for why she acted the way she did. Who ran off to tattle when a guy asked her out? And to Ryan? Why was she treating him like the anchor he’d dropped in the Gulf half an hour ago?

Oh, Ryan, your friend asked me out. Should I? Or shouldn’t I? Oh, let’s do each other’s hair.

Crap on a cracker. Why would she run to him like a silly little girl?

But deep down inside she knew why. She couldn’t get Ryan out of her mind. Not the way he was years ago, but the way he was now. She’d never liked pushy people, Benton aside, so coming on strong like Logan had was an automatic turnoff. She much preferred Ryan’s charming, nonpushy approach. She knew he liked her—after all, he’d asked about his chances. But she wasn’t sure if that was merely his MO or if he’d been truly serious. After all, he’d pretty much admitted to being a guy who had been with a lot of women. And though she felt drawn to him, she wasn’t sure it wasn’t purely physical. When she’d touched his hand earlier, it had felt good. But she’d only touched his hand. She hadn’t tested any other waters. So was that the first spark of physical attraction? She knew he was very pretty to look at, but what would his lips feel like on hers? How unfamiliar would his hands be touching her arms, sliding lower?

It had been so long since she had to think about a relationship, she didn’t trust her instincts. After all, she’d had sex with only one man in her life.

Yeah. Benton Mason had been her one and only. She’d thought it had always been good between them in bed. Now she wondered. Maybe she hadn’t been adventurous enough, hadn’t worn enough sexy lingerie or given him enough attention. Maybe she wasn’t good in bed . . .

So as far as being an experienced woman of the world, Jess fell flat. But that was okay, because she was gathering new experiences. That word again.
Experiences.
And though Logan made her want to say no and disappear from the boat, she wouldn’t, because at some point she had to go on a date. And Logan seemed safe. He was nice, attractive, and obviously had a thing for dolphins. It would be fine . . . and added bonus, Morgan and Ryan were tagging along. Conversation wouldn’t lag, no chance for intimacy or an awkward good-bye kiss at the door. Going on a date with Logan would be easy.

“So, Jess, you work with Becky, huh?” Logan said, drying off with a towel. He had a farmer’s tan—lily-white stomach and chest, tanned arms. He also had a goatee and shaved his head. Maybe because he had a receding hairline? She couldn’t tell, because he seemed to be a blond. The gold hair sprinkled on his forearms spelled out as much. He had a nice smile and crinkly blue eyes that reminded her of her brother. In fact, he reminded her of her brother, Rob, a lot.

“Yes, I’m a contract nurse, and I’m filling in for two nurses on maternity leave. I’m from Mississippi.”

“Oh, so you’re only here for . . .”

“Three or four months. But I like the hospital. Becky has been good to me, helping me meet new people.” There. That didn’t sound too antisocial. She sounded like someone who liked people. Which she did, most of the time.

“So will you travel around to other places? Or go back home?”

Back home. She couldn’t imagine not going back home. She loved Morning Glory because it was the perfect little town. Close enough to Jackson for decent shopping and good restaurants, far enough away to keep the small-town charm. And Morning Glory had small-town charm in spades—an old tiled bank with a broken clock out front, a town square with ancient oak trees, and a crumbling courthouse surrounded by magnolia trees and pretty crepe myrtles that bloomed a vivid pink in the heat of summer. There was a gazebo, a duck pond, old redbrick elementary schools, and exactly ten stoplights. There were festivals and parades and high school football on Friday nights. Why would she want to live anywhere else?

Because Benton lived there and currently dated all the twentysomethings arriving back home after college. That was a good reason to stay away for a little while. Until she was strong enough. Until the pain, hate, and sadness didn’t burn inside her anymore.

“I’ll eventually go home, but I’ll also continue to work contract labor. Luckily I was able to lease my apartment to my friend’s fiancé, but that’s short-term. I’m finding it interesting working in a different city. I’m footloose and fancy free, so why not?” Hard to say those last words. She stared out at the gentle waters of the Gulf, letting their magic work on her.

“That’s awesome,” Logan said, sinking down beside her.

His thighs had freckles on them. Definitely a blond. Or he could have red hair.

Ryan emerged from inside with a small catering table. “I’m going to set this here and then bring out the fixings. It will be easier to serve out here rather than everyone crowding inside.”