Page 38 of If You Like It, I Love It

“You’re going to try to surprise Glynnis? That’s funny. When is it?”

“On the twenty-ninth, three weeks from today. At the house.”

“I’ll be there. I don’t believe for a minute you’ll be able to pull it off as a surprise, but I’ll be there.”

“Good. I’ll let you get back to your breakfast.” He leans in for a hug. “I’m glad to see you living your life again, by the way.”

“Yeah, it was time for a change. I’m thinking of doing the bathrooms next.”

“I meant dating. Enzo’s invited on his own, but since you’ll probably see him before I do, I figured I’d let you tell him about the party.”

“Oh, actually I probably won’t.”

“Y’all called it quits already? Well, damn. I kind of have to invite him to the party. He and Twister became friends when he worked on her store. Unless that would be weird for you. I can cross him off the guest list if—”

“No. Of course you should invite him. You should just do it yourself, that’s all.”

“You good?”

“I’m perfectly fine. He’s a great guy. He should definitely be at Glynnis’s party.”

“All right. Well, let me know if you need anything.” He looks up at the mini chandeliers over my island. “What is it with women and chandeliers?”

“They’re pretty. Who doesn’t love a chandelier?”

He shakes his head before I walk him to the door. “You sure you’re doing okay?”

“I’m great. Go sneak around town, inviting the rest of your party guests. Good luck not getting caught.”

“Thanks. Does Twister know you and Enzo aren’t seeing each other anymore?”

“I haven’t officially made an announcement, but she’s the one who suggested the fling in the first place, so I don’t think she’ll be shocked. She, of all people, knew it was a temporary situation.”

“Did he know that?”

“Goodbye, Rhett.” I gently shut the door behind him.

My omelet tastes funny. I can’t finish it.

19

Enzo

This may be the best damn hot shower I’ve ever taken in my life. I’ve been working nonstop, haven’t seen Joni in way too damn long. I’m afraid she’s getting sick of my workaholic bullshit because she’s been slower responding to my texts, and there’ve been a few that she missed altogether. I know she’s busy, too, but I don’t think absence is making her heart grow fonder.

That all ends tonight. I cannot fucking wait to see her. The way she hesitated when I asked if she was free is still gnawing at me, but she ultimately offered to cook me dinner in her new kitchen, so she must not be too mad. I’ll make it up to her.

As many times as she’ll let me.

I pick up a bottle of wine and a bouquet of yellow roses, not at all shaped like the flowers on her wallpaper, but I think she’ll like them, anyway. She’s a Texas girl; how could she not like yellow roses? I know for sure I got the wine right.

She comes to the door wearing a long, loose, navy-blue dress with thin straps holding it up. It’s simple, but low-cut enough to make me want to skip dinner. Her hair falls over her shoulders in uneven waves, and I know she let it dry naturally, didn’t blow dry it or curl it. She’d say she just didn’t bother to do anything with it, but she has no idea how sexy her effortless look is to me. I love that she’s comfortable enough to be comfortable around me.

Red-orange toenails peek out from under the hem of her dress, and that makes me smile because I know she’s had a recent pedicure. I don’t care if her nails or painted or not, but she puts herself second too often. I like knowing she took a little time away from everyone and everything else to get her nails done.

“You look good enough to eat.”

She tries to hold back her smile, but she can’t help it. The smile wins.