Perfectly Charming (A Morning Glory Novel Book 2) (14 page)

“Their son.”

“Wait . . . the Brain?” Eden’s voice went down an octave. “What’s he doing in Pensacola? I thought he was curing cancer in California. Didn’t he win some award or something?”

“He’s not in California anymore. He owns a boat. He fishes.”

“Whaaaaat?” Eden’s voice rose. “And, wait, you’re interested in
him
? What have you been smoking, sister?”

Jess laughed. “You realize he was a kid when you last saw him, right?”

“Yeah, but he was so skinny and goofy. He was a stalker before we knew what stalkers were, Jess.”

“Yeah, he had a crush on me and no social skills. He followed me around—”

“Like a puppy. Rosemary called him your puppy. He brought you presents, too. Remember that pink pencil with the fuzzy hair? He’s totally a serial killer, Jess.”

“No, he’s not. He’s normal now. Remember when you were fourteen? I had an altar to *NSYNC. We all grow up, and I must tell you, friend, Mr. Ryan Reyes grew up good.”

“But . . . seriously?” Eden wasn’t buying what Jess was selling.

“Let me prove it to you. I’m sending you a picture I took on the beach yesterday. Hold on a sec.”

“Hurry. I have to teach yet another new employee how to manually enter a transaction. I hate to say we keep employing morons, but Douche Bag hires ones with big boobs and not much experience.”

Jess found the picture of Ryan on the beach. She’d been snapping a few when they were waiting for Morgan and Logan. The background of waning sun and silken sands paled behind the roguishly handsome super nerd. His chiseled body, hard jawline, and sexy smile would give any woman the shivers. She pressed
S
END
. “Okay, you should get it in a sec. But you’re going to die when you see what he looks like.”

“OMG! That’s not him. You’re joking,” Eden said, laughing as she said it. “The Brain turned into a total hottie. This can’t be right. Holy shit.”

“Eden.”

“Oh, sorry, but he’s cussworthy. And droolworthy. And . . . I’m running out of words.”

“I know, right?” Jess said, smiling at the crow strutting back toward her. Greedy bird. She tore him off another crust and tossed it. He caught it in his beak and took flight. “But the best thing is he’s so nice.”

“He was always nice. Creepy, but nice. Have you sent this to Rosemary?”

“Not yet. I’m still on the fence about him.”

“Why? If Mr. Brain–slash–eye candy can deliver the sexual healing, I would be all over that.”

“You would not. You’re a prude,” Jess joked.

“I
am
not. I’m discerning. You’ve seen what Morning Glory has to offer. The best-looking man we’ve had move back in the last three years is gay. And if you’re counting Sal, engaged. I’m not giving up the goods to any Tom, Dick, or Bubba around here. I’m still trying to live down my mama’s reputation. But you, you need to take advantage of what the world has to offer in the way of good-looking guys. ’Cause if you wait until you get back here, you’ll have to go to one of those intimate parties Carla Minnis is talking about giving to buy a poor substitute. Look at me—I’m practically a withered spinster. That’s no man’s cup of tea.”

Jess laughed. “What about Henry?”

“You and I both know that man’s not interested in me.”

“He mows your yard,” Jess said, thinking about the handsome contractor who could often be found at the run-down Voorhees house patching up the roof and shoring up the rickety wheelchair ramp.

“Not in the way it needs to be mowed. Besides, everyone knows he does things like that because he feels guilty about Sunny. That’s not for me.”

Which made sense. Eden’s older sister and Henry Todd Delmar of the Mississippi Delmars had once been the golden couple of Morning Glory . . . if there was such a thing. But bad choices and misplaced pride had conspired against them. The upside was Henry’s guilt saved Eden a lot of money. “I’m not staying in Pensacola, E. This is all temporary, so I’m not sure I should bust my divorcée cherry with Ryan. He’s not a random dude. We share a hometown.”

“So? Ryan never comes home.”

“Maybe I’m using that excuse because I’m afraid I’ll feel something more than just desire for him. He’s really easy to be around. I don’t want to fall for him.”

“Oh.” So much to be read in Eden’s simple response.

“I know they say women latch on to a rebound romance and think they’re in love again. I’ve read the relationship stuff. The rebound will do the things your last boyfriend or husband wouldn’t—he’ll romance you, make you feel sexy and lovable and pretty again. And the woman will read more into the relationship because she’s vulnerable and craves being valued. But knowing what the articles say and living the reality are two different things.”

“Dear Lord, who are you?” Eden asked.

“I know.” Jess shook her head. “I’m being indecisive, and I’m never indecisive. It’s embarrassing.”

“No. It’s okay to be confused, Jess. But I’m going to give you some advice I wouldn’t take myself. Don’t think so much. You’re only there for a few months, and he’s a hot guy who’s interested in you. We’re not talking marriage here, or even a relationship. Let it be about feeling good. You need that.”

“I do,” Jess said, staring at the half-eaten sandwich. “It’s not about love. It’s about sex and friendship. No strings.”

“Exactly. Your whole life has been about wrapping yourself up in strings. Now you don’t have any. Don’t start pulling the yarn from the discount bin. Be happy to be unfettered. You can think about strings later.”

“I’m so glad I talked to you. I feel better. And maybe I am ready to jump over into Ryan’s yard for some grown-up playtime.”

“Yeah, you should,” Eden said with a laugh. “Just don’t go falling in love with him.”

“That’s what I told Rosemary a few months ago, and look what happened to her.”

Eden giggled. “Yep, she’s marrying her fun.”

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of which, she’s going to be calling you later today.”

“What about?” Jess said, crumpling the sandwich into the napkin she’d spread on her lap minutes ago. Her mother would be proud she still remembered her manners like the good southern girl she’d been raised to be.

“It’s hers to tell. Not mine,” Eden said. In the background Jess heard the metal door open. They both needed to get back to work.

“She’s not pregnant, is she?” Jess asked, half-thrilled at the idea, half-jealous . . . well, at least until she remembered she was no longer married with a nursery freshly painted in the shade of Jack and the Beanstalk ready to go.

“No. I mean, I don’t think so,” Eden said as the phone went static. “Oops, sorry. I have to go. Call me later. And don’t fall in love with him. Unless you want to. But whatever you do, stop thinking so much.”

“’Bye, E.” Jess clicked the button to end the call and finished off her Diet Coke. Fat chance of falling in love. Of course, she’d never truly dated anyone. She and Benton had grown up together, falling into a pattern of being a couple when they were in ninth grade. Benton had never asked her to a dance—he’d assumed she was going with him. They’d decided together what movies to see in Jackson, where to eat, and what steps they’d take toward S-E-X, which by the way happened their senior year after the Morning Glory Mavericks, led by quarterback Benton Mason, beat their longtime rivals in a playoff game. Jess and Benton had gone to college together, attended frat parties and football games together, and gotten married one month after they’d graduated from college. Nothing about their relationship had been typical. So when it came to dating, smart-mouthed, steely-confident Jess was a mass of indecisive nerve endings.

But she had to suck it up and stop trying to control every aspect. She normally wasn’t a worrier—she left that to Rosemary—so she had to stop second-guessing everything.

“Hey, there you are,” Becky said from the wheelchair ramp. “I heard about your morning.”

Jess headed toward her new friend. “Yeah, not much fun getting called out in front of everyone. Not to mention I overslept. Fell asleep on the couch and slept there all night.” She didn’t add it had been with Ryan.

“That sucks. They have cupcakes for Nancy’s birthday. Chocolate icing is the cure for almost anything.”

“True enough,” Jess said, holding the door open for Becky.

“I didn’t eat any because I have a date on Saturday night and a gorgeous dress to get into,” Becky said with a tone that begged to be questioned.

“Who?”

“Marcus. You know, the guy who went on the boat with us Saturday? Oh, I forgot. You went out with Logan yesterday. How did that go?”

“Fine. But I think he was more interested in Morgan than me.”

Becky made a face. “You’re better off. An accountant?
Please.
Besides, Morgan’s assets”—Becky juggled pretend boobs in front of her own chest—“were on display. It’s a wonder she can walk with those things. Wonder how much they cost?”

Jess laughed. “Maybe that’s what I need—a chest expansion. Seems to work. But I do like Morgan. She’s fun.” And in love with Ryan. Another complication.

Stop thinking.

“You and me both, but something must have worked, because a florist just delivered flowers.”

“For me?” Jess hadn’t had anyone send her flowers since . . . well, her husband had brought some home and then dropped the divorce bombshell. She wasn’t sure if she was thrilled to receive flowers or gun-shy about the intention.

When she got back to the nursing station, she pulled the note from the dozen stunningly gorgeous red roses.

“Didn’t take you long,” one of the other nurses teased.

Jess shrugged. “Life’s short, right?”

The other nurses smiled as Jess ripped the small envelope from the prong. She slid the small card out.

Thinking of you today. Hope your new job is going well.

B

What the hell?

Jess blinked at the card, confused because she’d expected them to be from Ryan. Or, hell, even Logan as an apology for essentially abandoning her for Morgan on their double date. But her ex-husband?

She glanced up at the perfect, deep-hued red roses. The bouquet was splashy and expensive. So very Benton. And what did it mean? For nearly a year, he’d kept his distance. Their communications were perfunctory and polite. When he’d packed his things, he’d been mostly quiet, as if he were clearing out the effects of a departed friend. Solemn and solicitous. When they’d sold the house and Jess had been unable to stanch the tears that trickled down her cheeks during the signing, he’d retrieved a tissue and passed it to her. That was the only comfort he’d offered. And when Lacy had died, he’d worn his best suit and stood beside her in the church, never touching her, but there . . . and thankfully without a bimbo. He’d refrained from attending any events in which her family might participate, and he respectfully took his dates to Jackson. If anything could be said about Benton Mason, it was that the man tried to have class.
Tried
was a key word for a man who’d left his wife for a florist.

But why the flowers?

“So?” Becky asked, her eyes alight with questions.

Jess shrugged and then told a little lie. “Oh, they’re from my family. Just a little something to lift me up.”

“Oh,” Becky said, obviously disappointed. “Well, they’re pretty and thoughtful.”

“Yeah. They are,” Jess said, her mind still grappling with why Benton would do such a thing. Then the date struck her—August 19. Today was the anniversary of the day all those years ago, as they walked home from their first day at Morning Glory High School their freshman year, when Benton had asked her to be his girlfriend. For years they’d celebrated the day as their real anniversary with thoughtful little gifts. He’d remembered.

But she hadn’t. That morning she’d woken up in the arms of another man, her world so different than the one she’d once shared with Benton.

He had no right to send her flowers, no right to shift her focus off her new life and back on to something so painful. It was selfish. Manipulative. It was almost as if he sensed she had found someone else to make her happy. So he’d swooped in with a reminder. But he’d failed. If anything, it made her even more determined to jump into something sexy with Ryan.

A lightning bolt of anger struck her, and she lifted the vase. “I’d love to share these with a patient. Anyone know of someone who hasn’t had many visitors?”

Chapter Eleven

After Jess had showered the crappy day off and poured herself a glass of wine, she went to the ultimate advice giver, the person who’d inspired her to sign up for the contract labor nursing job and rent a place on the beach. As always, Lacy had the last word.

Opening her dresser drawer, she pulled out the paisley Vera Bradley ditty bag and tugged the strings apart. Tilting her hand, she allowed the silver charm bracelet to slip out. She caught it in her palm, closing her fist tight around it. Rosemary had passed the bracelet on to Jess when she said she was going to Florida for a few months. Jess had protested—she hadn’t been ready to think about anything other than getting over Benton and resuming the normalcy of her life. What could possibly happen in Florida? But Eden had had a point when she said Jess had a better shot at adventure in Florida than she had working the day shift at Penny Pinchers in their hometown. So Jess had dutifully packed the bracelet in her suitcase.

So could coming to Florida and engaging in a healing affair with a hunk count as fulfilling a dream? It certainly counted as an adventure, something Lacy had hinted that Jess needed in the letter she’d left from the great beyond. The woman had meddled in their lives, and Jess often pictured the delight Lacy had, sitting in her hospital bed in her crooked blue wig, putting her last hold on her friends. She’d have had those bright-orange nails, insisting upon manicures and lipstick, telling everyone she’d go out looking better than when she came in this world. Lacy would have caught her tongue between her glossed lips as she used the last of her energy to write a letter to each of her closest friends.

Jess—

I know you’re the Miranda (
Sex and the City
ref!) of our group, but your hard shell and no-nonsense toughness hide a tender heart. That bastard never deserved you. If I could get up from this damn bed, I’d tell Benton as much and probably kick his ass all the way to Jackson. (Don’t tell Rosemary I cussed this much. Ha. Ha.) At times I can see how much you hurt, and it hurts me, friend. I know this whole bracelet thing is something you’ll roll your eyes at in front of the girls, but I think deep down you’ll like the challenge. You need something more than Morning Glory and the map you’ve drawn out for your life. In fact, crumple up that map and try to get lost instead. The unknown is so much more exciting. Look, having cancer makes me prophetic and way wiser than anyone else. It’s like God’s last gift to me, and since you can’t really argue with me, I get to tell you what I see for you. I see a great love in your life. He won’t be the man you’ve reasoned for yourself. He’ll be unexpected, found off the path where he’s been waiting for you. So do a favor for a dying girl—or in this case your new guardian angel—let go and find a high current to glide on. Go where the wind blows you, friend. Don’t be afraid. Where it takes you, love will be waiting. Take care of Eden and Rose . . . but take care of you, too. I love you.

Hugs and ladybugs,

Lacy (Samantha) (I wasn’t the Delta Chi sweetheart for nothin’, sugar.)

Jess swiped the tears away so they wouldn’t drip onto the handwritten words that were her last remembrance of a crazy, wonderful woman who made everyone laugh and feel better about living in this world. Jess missed her friend.

She could almost see Lacy’s response to the crazy plan she’d concocted for seducing Ryan. Lacy would give her a high five and then help think of even more naughty things she could do. Yeah, Jess was certain the Delta Chi sweetheart would approve.

Glancing at her watch and giving a last swipe of her eyes, Jess refolded the note and tucked it and the bracelet back into the bag. After talking to Eden and reading the advice from her dear friend, she knew it was time to spread her wings and find a current to ride.

The current’s name was Ryan.

No more cautious Jess. At least for a while.

Lacy had been right. Time to get lost.

Ryan held his phone in his hand, contemplating exactly what to text Jess when the doorbell rang. He’d been debating whether he should invite her over or play it cool and join his friends at Cuesticks. He’d been studying up on how to perform a dead-ball shot and wanted to practice before the September Shootout tournament. But being with Jess, maybe even getting to that elusive third base, tugged at him. Holding her all night long had given him bigger fantasies . . . and an arm that had stayed numb for a good half hour.

When he opened the door, all thoughts of pool sticks and two-for-one beers flew from his mind.

Jess stood on his stoop wearing a pair of cat eye–styled glasses, a short lab coat that was buttoned from throat to mid-thigh, and a pair of high-heeled black pumps. She carried a clipboard, and her red lipstick smeared the eraser of the pencil she thumped against her lips.

“Jess?”

“Hello. I’m here to conduct a little experiment,” she said, brushing back a tendril of hair that had escaped the loose bun gathered at the nape of her neck. She raked his body with a speculative gleam in her eyes.

“An experiment?” He grinned.

“I’ve heard you’ve spent much time in the lab and thus are sufficiently experienced for this potentially combustible endeavor,” she said, a smile hovering at her lips as she scratched something on the clipboard. “May I come in?”

Ryan’s heart did a little trippy thing when it registered she wore nearly sheer black hosiery beneath the lab coat. “Of course, Dr. . . .”

“Jessica. Jessica Anne Culpepper,” she said, sliding by him and deliberately brushing her ass against the front of his shorts.

“It will be a pleasure to work with you, eh, professor?” Ryan said, closing the door and locking it for good measure. Just in case. They didn’t want to be interrupted while engaging in kinky scientific role play. Please, sweet heaven, please let them be about to engage in kinky scientific role play. So he could hit a home run. He couldn’t believe he was mixing baseball with kinky scientific role play, but he wasn’t going to overthink it when Jess had showed up in heels with naughtiness on her mind.

“Exactly so,” Jess said, pursing her lips. “Before we begin, I’m obliged to ask you if you have any objection to removing all or part of your clothing during the course of the experiment. For safety reasons, of course. Things could get volatile and messy.”

“You’re conducting an experiment that requires me to take off my clothes? I’ve never had to do that in a lab before.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Then you’ve had the wrong lab partner.”

He laughed. “You do remember you were my lab partner once.”

“Good point. But if I’m going to prove my current hypothesis, you might have to sacrifice your shorts,” she said, walking toward him. She ringed a finger around his neckline. “You know, scientific pioneers must be willing to go where others haven’t gone before.”

“I thought that was
Star Trek
, but I’m up for exploring new frontiers,” he said, capturing her hand and lifting it to his lips. Tenderly he kissed each knuckle while using his other hand to cup her waist. Was there clothing beneath the lab coat? Or was this naked waist he felt?

“Good,” she whispered, pulling her hand away. “Let’s get started.”

“Okay,” he said, following Jess as she entered his living room. He adjusted himself beneath his shorts, hoping she couldn’t see the thickening erection.

But, shit, she was turning him on.

“Nice lab,” she said, turning in a circle, checking out his place. Her movement gave him a nice view of long, lean legs clad in the silk hose. The lab coat brushed against her upper thighs, and he thought he glimpsed a garter. All he could think about was what she had on underneath the buttoned-up coat. He needed to get her out of that damn lab coat.

“Thank you. It has all the latest innovations. Should we go ahead and plug in the Bunsen burner?” he joked.

Jess smiled. “Is that a euphemism or do you really have a Bunsen burner somewhere?”

“I can get my chemistry set. There might be a Bunsen burner you can play with.” Of course he made it sound dirty, because he had nary a test tube at his new place. When he left the lab back in California, he’d left everything, including his personal equipment. No need for anything like that on his fishing boat.

“We won’t need it. We’re about to indulge in chemical reactions that, while primitive in nature, are the basis for all mankind. Yes, I do believe we have everything we need right here,” she said, unbuttoning the top button of her lab coat.

Ryan watched her walk over to the lamp next to his couch and switch it off. He jogged over and flipped it back on again. Jess arched a brow, so he said, “We need adequate lighting. Safety first. Oh, and I must be able to see everything we’re doing. Makes it all valid.”

She smiled and unbuttoned the next button. The swells of her breasts appeared. “So do you have protective suiting?”

“Uh, yeah. A whole box of protective suiting right in my bedside table.”

“Of course you do. I remember you always being prepared. It will be a pleasure to—”

“—make all my nerd fantasies come true?” he finished for her, moving toward her.

Jess held out a hand to stop him. “I know lab coats are required for most experiments, but for this one, I believe it could pose a hazard. I think I should remove mine, don’t you?” Her voice grew husky. He now knew he could no longer hide the result. It pressed against his athletic shorts, tenting them.

“I do. I would hate for anything to get in your way.”

Jess gave a no-nonsense nod. “Right, then.” With a quick flick of her wrist, she unbuttoned the rest of the lab coat and let it slide off her shoulders. It fluttered to the floor, landing on her stilettos. What remained took his breath away.

Her generous breasts were enclosed in a lacy black bra, and the tiny black satin and lace panties were partially covered by a see-through garter belt that held up silky stockings. Tiny black bows fastened the stockings to the garter, a mark of innocence adorning the dirty fantasy they presented. Her mile-high heels, smart glasses, and hair secured in a knot were so sexy he nearly lost his breath. If his fourteen-year-old self could have imagined this, he would have ejaculated on the spot. The grown-up sex goddess standing before him almost had him breaking a sweat just looking at her. “Holy cow.”

“Umm-hmm,” she said, taking the pencil she’d shoved from behind her ear and scratching something on the clipboard.

“What are you writing?” he asked, moving toward her, brushing a hand across the small of her back. He felt her response—the speeding of her breath, the tightening of her nipples through the peekaboo lace.

“Just the response of the subject to stimuli.”

“Oh, ’cause that looks like you’re writing lyrics from the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song,” he said, trailing his hand down the globe of her bare ass, which was, by the way, spectacular.

“Merely code for an erection,” she said with a smile.

“Pineapple under the sea? You’re seriously making SpongeBob kinky?” he said, stepping so his body pressed against the back of hers. He put his hands flush against her stomach and leaned into her.

“I’ve always thought yellow sponges were sort of sexy. Sort of,” she said, dropping the clipboard and leaning back. He nibbled on her earlobe and stroked her flat stomach, edging a finger beneath the lace garter belt low on her hips. She smelled amazing—something sultry and sweet at the same time. Like a woman should.

“Want to take this experiment to my bedro—uh, adjoining laboratory?”

“That seems wise, given the recent observations,” she murmured, tilting her head so he could slide his lips along the column of her neck up to her jaw.

Ryan moved so she was in front of him. Taking the clipboard and tossing it onto the leather couch, he tilted her head back so he could stare into her eyes.

“Hey, babe, I appreciate this sexy role play. Ever since I was fourteen and had to stare at your gorgeousness across the lab table, I’ve been fantasizing about you in almost exactly what you’re wearing. Okay, it was naked under the cheerleading uniform, but this is a very close second. But in lieu of our last conversation, are you ready for this?” He hated himself for asking. What man asked a woman looking the way Jess did, offering up what Jess offered, if she was serious about doing it?