“What’s the address on the listing where Zoey is now?” Dixie interrupts, her voice all business.
Anastasia gives us the address. Dixie’s out the door with a terse “thanks” a second later, but I stop to give Anastasia a hug, because she wants one, I can tell. Outside, Dixie is standing by the Peet’s Coffee. “Come on. I need a latte to calm my stomach after witnessing that.”
“Witnessing what?” I open the door to the coffee shop and Dixie walks in.
“Hello! You. Flirting with Zoey’s co-worker.” Dixie waves her hand, pink nails flying in front of my eyes.
“I wasn’t flirting with Anastasia,” I argue. “I was just being myself.”
She gives me a hard, exasperated stare. “I thought you liked Zoey.”
“I do like Zoey. I have always liked Zoey.”
“No. I meanlikeZoey.” Dixie exaggerates the word “like” as we approach the counter. She orders an iced caramel latte with coconut milk and starts to reach into her purse, but I pay the guy before she can unzip her wallet. My sisters all make decent incomes, but I make an obscene one, so I don’t mind paying for things. In fact, I’d rather. They all gave up a lot of weekends and time with their friends because Mom and Dad were shuttling us to my hockey tournaments. I like to give them stuff and help them out so it seems worth it to them.
I wave off the change the guy tries to hand me as Dixie thanks me and we move to the corner to wait for her drink. “You talk about Zoey like she’s something special.”
“She is,” I reply easily and run a hand through my hair. “She’s the one that got away. The original and the one and only. That’s special.”
Dixie is staring at me with that “I sucked on lemons” face she’s so great at. “The one that got away from…?”
“My bed.” I can’t believe she’s so dense she needs me to spell it out. “I never got the chance to sleep with her. It was a fucking tragedy then, and it’s still a tragedy, because her stupid pending divorce is keeping it from happening now. Luckily, though, this time neither of us is going anywhere, so I can wait it out.”
The guy behind the counter calls out her order, and she reaches up and grabs it. Turning with a huff, she marches out of the coffee place, and I follow behind. Why the hell is she tantrumming right now? What is her issue? When I ask her as we walk to my car, she doesn’t respond, only rolls her eyes, so I decide to let it go. If I’m lucky enough, maybe she’ll be too bitchy to talk the entire ride to the open house Zoey is working, and I’ll actually get to listen to the radio.
It works. Whatever has her pissed off at me keeps her quiet the whole fourteen-minute trip, but, sadly, I don’t enjoy the radio. I’m too busy trying to figure out what her problem is. When I park the car, it hits me. “I’m not going to use her, Dix.”
Our eyes meet, and I can tell that’s exactly why she’s pissed. “So it’s not just about getting in her pants?”
“Of course I want in her pants. The sex is going to be phenomenal.”
She wrinkles her nose at that last statement.
I turn off the engine and continue to reassure her. “Ease up, Dix. I know she’s not some puck bunny. Jesus, I meant it when I said I liked her. She’s amazing. Getting in her pants won’t be the end of it.”
“So you want to date her? Like seriously?” Dixie questions. “Because if you do, you need to stop flirting with other women.”
Oh God, she’s a broken record. “I wasn’t flirting with Anastasia. And I don’t think Zoey and I will date.”
She actually looks heartbroken. “Why not? You like her!”
“Yeah. That’s exactly why,” I bark back, really fucking fed up with this conversation. “If I want her to keep liking me back, dating isn’t the best idea.”
She stares at me, eyes hard, mouth in a flat line. Then she shakes her head slowly, like she’s in disbelief. “You are in for a rude awakening, Jude Braddock.”
“What?”
Dixie’s face relaxes, and she smiles. “Forget it. Let’s go see Zoey.”
We both get out of the car, and I lock it as we head toward the sleek, modern Bernal Heights home with the “Open House” sign out front. I reach over and grab her drink, taking a sip. She instantly starts slapping at me, so I relent and give it back before I can down the whole thing and really annoy her.
As we climb the stairs to the front door, a couple emerges from the house. They’re smiling and saying something about having their agent get in touch, and then I see Zoey standing just on the other side of the door. She’s all business in a short-sleeved loose black dress and a pair of pumps. Her tan, toned calves are on display, and I can’t help but think about how great they’re going to look over my shoulders.
The couple moves by me and down the stairs, talking to each other in excited voices about the house. Zoey’s hazel eyes flare when she sees me, and then a smile bursts onto her face, and I suddenly feel taller, smarter, happierand just generally like a superhero. I grin back at her and step into the house. Without even thinking about it, I reach for her and pull her into a hug. I have to work to keep it casual because my hand on her lower back wants desperately to slip to her ass and as my head slips over her shoulder my lips feel drawn to her cheek, but I refrain. It’s definitely not the place. Unfortunately.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” Then she sees Dixie over my shoulder and pulls away to go hug her. “Dixie!”
“Good to see you again!”
