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I didn’t miss him.
My body had finally found a man in Jupiter Tides worth fucking, and my vibrator didn’t match up. That was it. Nothing more.
“I heard something from a friend I went to high school with today.” Nora was arching to stretch her back, her hand on her protruding belly. She was a week overdue which meant she was uncomfortable and that my brother wasn’t ever beyond arms’ reach. He was constantly shifting underfoot, beer in hand, talking to Kip and Kane with his gaze darting over to Nora every ten seconds.
I was only partially listening to what was said, my mind creeping to the ocean and the man somewhere on it. Worry clutched me as I looked at the waves, unpredictable and unforgivable, even on a mild summer day.
Worry. About Elliot. More accurately, his dick, I told myself.
I’d have to attempt to find another man around here, which I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do. My presence in Jupiter was already messy enough without adding a man to the mix. Which I’d already done. But I was finished with Elliot, wasn’t I? For his own good.
My thoughts triggered memories of that shallow grave, the one that visited my nightmares. Which made me think about Jasper’s radio silence—meaning he’d skulked back into the shadows or was waiting to strike again.
“She saw Calliope drinking at the bar at Shaw Shack last week.” Nora’s words seized my attention, my gaze shooting to her as everyone at the table looked at me.
I narrowed my eyes at her, only swallowing my barb because she was my sister-in-law, my very pregnant sister-in-law who, up until that point, I’d never had the occasion to get irritated with.
Nora had the kindest and softest heart of anyone I knew. There was no malice inside her, so I knew she was not bringingthis up at the table to shame me. There was no possible way that she knew about my connection with Elliot Shaw.
Though when my eyes wandered to Fiona, she was sipping her wine, brows wiggling at me in a way that communicated knowledge.
I ground my teeth together. Kip had told her, not unsurprising. But I had figured she would’ve come to me. Fiona was a no bullshit woman. She was one of my best friends. And before Jupiter, I hadn’t had friends. Women I worked with correctly ascertained that I was a bitch, and I didn’t befriend people I worked with. I had acquaintances I saw at gallery openings, galas, but none of thatSex and the Citybullshit. Work was my life.
In recent months, I had come to realize how much I treasured the female friendships that I hadn’t really had … ever.
Fiona shot me a knowing and cheeky grin before I turned my attention to Nora.
“You had a ten-minute-long diatribe about how much plastic cups offended you last time I even mentioned going there,” Tina chimed in from beside me.
I narrowed my eyes at her this time, but not in hostility. Not just because I considered Tina another friend, but she was a badass bitch, one I did not want to have to cross or offend.
“I was bored.” I lifted my glass to my lips, only to find it empty.
Still, I clutched it tightly in my hands, feeling unsteady. Normally, if I was sitting at a table, challenged with information I didn’t want revealed, I would bite back. Draw blood. Tear people apart and ensure they never did that again. It was second nature. But you couldn’t exactly do that with family. Well, you could, but it made holidays awkward. And I didn’t relish in hurting my family.
“You don’t get bored,” Rowan argued, obviously shamelessly eavesdropping. Not because he was nosy, but because he needed to be able to hear if his wife had so much as a swift intake of breath.
“You told me that boredom was a sign of a low IQ,” Kip offered, also within earshot. Not because he was watching for his wife to go into labor—though he always watched her with an intensity that made my heart hurt a little because it spoke to how easy he knew it was to lose her. But because hewasnosy.
At least I could direct a scathing look at him. “I’d be careful with what you interject, buddy,” I shot back. “You’re only standing because I like your wife and daughter.”
He curled his lips up in response, not appropriately afraid of me. He knew I’d gone soft. Fuck.
“Whydidyou go to Shaw Shack?” Fiona asked, drumming her fingers against her chin.
“I’m going to rethink my stance on liking you,” I muttered.
“She doesn’t have to answer if she doesn’t want to.” Avery—who was seated beside me—came to my defense in an act I appreciated.
Though I found it hard to see myself in any of these women—a compliment to them—I related to Avery most. Until recently, she’d been a world-renowned chef living in New York City. At the pinnacle of her career, she’d had to harden herself in a way that I recognized in order to get to the top.
We were kindred spirits in that way.
Then she fell in love with the bad boy of motocross, had his baby and retired from the Michelin star cooking scene. She was building her own restaurant, but I could recognize that her edges had softened quite a bit. Being a mother. A wife.
Though she still had some of that ice queen persona lingering, she had a man who nurtured those edges. Too many men wanted a successful woman until they married her, thenthey wanted her sweet and pliable. Not Kane. He wanted Avery whole and exactly who she was. You could see it in their every interaction, the way he looked at her, calling her ‘Chef’ in a way that somehow felt sexual and affectionate at the same time.
“I have nothing to hide,” I lied with a wink to Avery who was adjusting her daughter Mabel’s shoe that was about to fall off as she happily sat on her mother’s lap, eating shredded cheese from a bowl.