“You keep telling yourself that. And while you’re at it, tell yourself you weren’t melting inside when he fingered your ganache.”
Jo shifted, squeezing her legs together. Sure, she was a hot gooey mess just thinking about it, but she had to remember one thing. “It’s not like that.”
“It should be.”
“Why?” She paused to look at Brooke. “So I can end up bitter and alone?”
“Oh my god.” Brooke closed the lid with a little more zeal than Jo would have liked and flattened her hands on the table. She stared at Jo. “You know I loved your grandmother. She was the best. But she’s got you brainwashed. Sex is not bad. Not all men are bad.”
“I know that.”Sort of.“I just haven’t found one I can trust.”
“You mean you don’t trust yourself.”
Jo could argue that her track record proved she shouldn’t, but she didn’t have time for that. At her silence, Brooke seemed to let it go as they picked up a rhythm again, but no such luck.
“Having sex,” she continued, “doesn’t mean you’ll fall in love and get married. Or get knocked up like your mom.”
Jo stared at Brooke. “She didn’t just get pregnant. She died giving birth to me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But your grandmother always made it sound like the two go hand in hand. Even I’m a little scared when I think about having a baby.” She shook her head. “But what I’m trying to say is, you don’t have to trust a man to have sex with him.”
Jo filled the last bun and moved to the sink. She turned on the faucet then faced Brooke as the water warmed. “Do you think I don’t want to burn my fucking V-card?”
Brooke leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “Then why are you hanging onto it? Guys are different than your grandmother’s generation. They don’t give two fucks if you’re a virgin, and they don’t expect it.”
“You think I’m hanging on to it for a man?” Jo snorted.
“If not for yourself, your grandma, or a theoretical man, then who?”
Jo couldn’t answer that question because she honestly didn’t know. She only knew Chase hadn’t been the right one.
“I’m only going to say one more thing, and then I’m going to shut up.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
“If you’re not interested in findingoneman, you might as well enjoy the one you’re with, the one with an expiration date.”
A light knock at the door and the sound of it creaking open kept Jo from responding. As did the man with the expiration date who stepped into view. And holy fuck, what a view.
She’d been too worried that he’d heard her talking to Walt about him to appreciate how thoroughly hot he was. This was the first time she hadn’t seen him in a suit or tux.
Instead, a simple off-white western shirt showcased his broad shoulders and tapered to a trim waist. Faded jeans took over from there, hugging slender hips and long, lean legs all the way down to polished but scuffed boots that made her feel better about her own.
And, god help her, she hadn’t missed the impressive package behind the fly. She swallowed as heat unfurled in her chest and spread like butter on a hot croissant into her core.
Brooke scooted close to Jo and gave her a hip bump.
“You’re drooling,” she whispered, then louder she said, “Move over. I’ll finish washing these and lock up.
“Thanks.” Jo straightened away the counter but not before she caught Brooke’s I-told-you-so smirk and Avery’s smoldering caught-you-looking brown eyes returning her assessment.
“You two go have fun—” Brooke smirked. “—while you can.”
“So not funny.” She stuffed her new laptop in the tote bag of catering essentials, just in case things went well and Kate Sullivan was interested in talking shop.
Avery’s fingers brushed hers as he adjusted the strap over her shoulder. The butterflies went wild again, trying to escape the simmering heat in her belly.
She grabbed her purse and the boxes of buns. “I’ll take these if you can get the ones on the coffee table.”
