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Eighteen

J ulia wasn’t hungry for luxury, but it was nice to dip her toes into it. After room service delivered a bottle of merlot to the palatial honeymoon suite, she dug out her tablet to review the list of things she and Carson had accomplished.

Miraculously, Mom listened attentively. This was new. Maybe she really was excited to marry Jim? She’d asked questions and requested reasonable tweaks.

Jim, on the other hand, was distracted by his phone. He periodically paced the room. Like now, as she mentioned the Plan B for sargassum, he wandered to the kitchenette.

“Can I top you off?” he called.

“Yes, please,” Mom answered.

“No, thanks,” Julia said. Two rum punches at dinner was enough, and she had plenty to do…mostly to distract herself from playing the afternoon on repeat in her mind.

Warmth fanned over her chest.

Carson, the man whose touch put her fully in her skin.

Made her feel sexy, desired, enjoyed…instead of just useful .

Made her relax, too. At first she’d been all prickly nerves around him, made worse by her attempts to hide twitchiness.

He picked up on her feelings and didn’t try to invalidate them.

Nope.

He gave her a sandwich, apologized, and joked with her. The fiery glitter that exploded inside her when they were naked together didn’t hurt, either, but they’d never have gotten there if he hadn’t been gentle with her old hurt feelings.

Jim refilled Mom’s glass. “That’s the last of it. Shall I order another?”

She shook her head. “Not if you want me to function tomorrow.”

“If you’ll excuse me, then.” Jim rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll unpack and shower.”

“Be there soon.” Mom squeezed his hand.

As he closed the bedroom double doors, Mom relaxed into her gossip pose. Legs tucked under her body, elbow perched against the back of the couch, body fully turned toward Julia.

“It’s not the penthouse,” Mom said. “But it’s nice.”

This couch probably cost more than every stick of her furniture in Ithaca combined.

“ Very nice.” Julia scrolled her list. “What do you want to do after we visit Alex’s office tomorrow?”

“We can figure that out later.” Her mother took the tablet from her and laid it on the table.

An act of treason.

“Alex seems happy,” Mom said. “Are she and Bo living together? Are they serious?”

The people pleaser in her wanted to provide answers. But this was Alex’s story to tell. She’d been in the middle of her mother and sister’s relationship for way too long.

“You should ask Alex, Mom.”

“You’re no fun. And she’d never tell me, but I’ll leave you alone.”

That was different, too. Mom would normally keep going until it started an argument.

Mom swirled her merlot. “You know, ever since I had the audacity to put my wants and needs in life on equal footing with yours, you two stopped confiding in me. You punished me for centering my happiness.”

Julia’s insides burned. “At the cost of ours.”

“Yes, sweetheart, at the cost of some of yours, versus all of mine. What should I have done? Stayed married to a man who was more of a coworker than a husband? I loved your father dearly, but if I hadn’t left, our marriage would’ve toxified while I lost myself.

Terrible examples to give the independent girls I was raising. ”

The air left Julia’s lungs. Mom…was right. The way she’d phrased that made perfect sense. No one should sacrifice their shot at total happiness. Julia took a deep breath.

Definitely did not have boulder-sized personal revelations on the to-do list this evening.

“Mom.” She mirrored her mother’s tucked-legs position. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“When?” Mom ran her index finger around the lip of her glass.

“When you were ten? A teenager flying here at every opportunity? Barely keeping your head above water in college while you worked two jobs and refused financial help? Or when your father passed, God rest his soul? I couldn’t speak ill of a man beloved and mourned by all who knew him.

It wasn’t really ill, either. He was lovely. We just grew apart.”

Cold trickled down Julia’s spine. She wished she could dispute anything her mother was saying, but… Fuck. Her mother was absolutely, one hundred percent correct.

“The truth is, honey, the greatest sin I’ve ever committed is not sacrificing myself at the altar of motherhood. If I don’t care for myself, who will?”

“I…” Julia gestured to the closed bedroom door. “Isn’t that why you’re getting married? For someone to take care of you?”

Her mother dropped her head back and laughed.

“No. I have my own financial security, Julia. Statistically speaking, I’ll be the one taking care of him.

Between generous settlements and my last promotion, I’d be fine if we parted ways.

I’m with him because I love him. The sex was great from the first date—”

“Ugh, Mom, please.” Julia pinched the bridge of her nose.

Mom laughed again. “Fine. But a month into the most delightful relationship of my life, I suggested couples’ therapy. Most men would run screaming, but he agreed that with four previous marriages among us, we might need help to keep us in tune.”

Julia pursed her lips. For once, her mother was making emotionally stable sense.

She had to call Alex.

“Oh, stop looking like I’ve shaken your worldview. Let’s talk about something fun, like a bachelorette party.”

Julia’s stomach flattened. “What bachelorette party?”

Her mother touched her knee. “More like a bachelor-and-bachelorette party. Having everyone together at dinner was fun, wasn’t it? So let’s do it again. A group activity.”

“What do you have in mind? I’ll just jot it down.” Julia picked up her tablet, added a task to the project in the Positively Productive app, then assigned it to Carson. Joint bachelor & bachelorette party, God help us all.

“You’ll figure it out. Whatever you decide will be perfect.” Mom finished her wine. “There’s one more thing.”

“Please don’t tell me you want a martini luge.”

“I have no idea what that is.” Mom propped her head on her fist. “What do you think of Bo, now that you’ve met him?”

Ah, this she could answer. “He makes Alex happy. And he’s a good cook.”

A Carson text buzzed her phone. WTF? A bachelor party?

Sheesh, was he staring at the project, waiting for tasks?

Something low-key , she texted. Maybe two birds with one stone. Adventure with Alex = a bachelor and bachelorette party?

“I like him.” Her mother fiddled with an earring. “He grounds her. Like a firm foundation. Since he entered the picture, her ideas for what you two can do with your father’s estate have blossomed. She found the right person to dream with.”

Ouch. Stab to her heart.

She was supposed to be Alex’s idea partner, not Bo.

Her phone buzzed again. Call me or I’m booking erotic dancers .

Can’t , she wrote back.

“My only hesitation…” Julia set her phone down. “Is they’ve only known each other for six months. Don’t you need longer to know if you’re right for each other?”

“Nonsense.” Mom waved her hand. “Sometimes you know in ten minutes, other times it takes ten years. Don’t hesitate when you feel the yes ness of someone.”

“What does that mean? Yes ness?”

She had a sneaking suspicion she knew. No, that was ridiculous. Their hormones had raged out of control, but that didn’t mean Carson was her yes .

“Let me see if I can put it into words.” Her mother touched her fingertips to her lips. “It’s more solid than attraction tingles. It’s… It’s like you find their eyes across a crowded room, and everything that’s churning inside you relaxes because you know your person is there.”

Fuck. She did know that feeling.

“I want that for all of you.” Mom squeezed her knee. “Maybe Alex and Bo could be a good influence on Carson. Jim says he never has the same pretty young thing hanging from his arm twice. He’s in his prime, and he should find someone who makes him happy.”

Oh, he was in his prime all right.

The heat rose in her cheeks. She made up tasks to add to the project to keep her eyes focused on her tablet because her mother had an uncanny ability to read her thoughts.

Shower. Buy earplugs. Punch out of this conversation.

Mom squeezed her knee once more. “Good night, sweetheart. Sleep tight. I’m sure Jim and I won’t.”

Her mother winked at her, then slid off the couch.

Ew.

Julia flicked on the TV. Please let the sound drown out any bedroom noise. Commercial, commercial, Jane the Virgin rerun, news, and—bingo. A reality show where people got married three months after meeting and were shocked they had disagreements.

Her phone buzzed against the coffee table.

Another text from Carson. Why are you blowing up the project?

She texted back, Stalker.

I’m not stalking. The app has an alert—every time you add a task, it sends me a text.

She widened her eyes. I didn’t know! That’s an amazing feature.

Thank you. I called your sister to set something up tomorrow. She’s on it. We’ll meet at her office as planned, then go from there.

Her heart thumped an extra beat. Had she not already been attracted to him, his lightning-quick ability to handle business would’ve sealed the deal.

Another text balloon popped up. Why do you need ear plugs?

She glanced at the bedroom door and texted three eggplant and water splash emojis. Because our parents are frisky.

That’s awesome. Good for them.

I’d like to never talk about our parents’ sex life again, thanks.

Pulsing dots… Can we talk about our sex lives? I can’t stop thinking about you.

Before she could respond, another text came, fast and furious. Or your bikini, and how easy it was to untie.

That was it. She couldn’t have this evidence on her phone.

She stepped out to the patio and called him.

“Hey,” he said after one ring.

God, she loved his voice. A thrill zipped up her spine every time she heard his deep smoky rumble. She flashed back to earlier today, when his chest vibrated with his groans.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Please stop sending me flirty texts.”