by Lavinia Kent
Walking around the car, she pulled down her sunglasses. She was going to spend an hour or two with Jordan. It had been far too long since she’d seen her friend in person. And she’d never been able to resist an invite to Jordan’s house, which always meant a long walk on the beach followed by a glass of wine while in the pool.
The seat was hot from the sun as she sat down and for a moment she regretted her brief shorts. Fall weather was closing in fast, however, and there would not be too many more days when she’d be able to wear them. Baxter collapsed on the seat beside her.
“I’m going to make you walk, you know,” she said, addressing him. “Jordan will bring Dolly and she’ll be nipping at your heels if you don’t keep up.” Dolly was Jordan’s new Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and they’d been inseparable from the moment Dolly had arrived.
Baxter raised one eyelid to stare at her. She was not going to back down.
A few minutes later she turned into Jordan’s circular drive to find her friend sitting on the front steps, Dolly running about, her russet ears flapping like wings. It was hard to believe that Baxter had ever been anywhere near that small and cute—or that he ever had that much energy. Sometimes she was sorry that she’d never gotten to know him as a puppy, tripping over his long ears. She shoved the thought aside as she often did. Thinking about Baxter’s past awoke memories of her brother and his death. And those she did not need right now, particularly not after the doubts Charlotte had raised.
This was the time for fun and gossip.
Jordan rose and waved as she pulled to a stop.
Veronica opened the door and got out. Baxter lumbered after her, not protesting for once, as he headed straight for Dolly and proceeded to put his nose in all the most inappropriate places. Dolly didn’t seem to mind, and happily returned the favor.
“Has he lost weight? I thought that was impossible,” Jordan asked as she walked forward, a laugh in her voice.
“I think he might have. His dog walker takes no hostages.” Although she certainly wouldn’t mind if he did. Maybe he could kidnap her the next time they played.
“Dog walker? Did you mention that?” Jordan suddenly stopped walking. “Is that the dog walker everyone’s been talking about? The one who does yoga on the beach at sunset? I hear he’s amazingly flexible.”
Yoga on the beach at sunset? How did she not know about that? She had noticed last night that he was capable of some amazing positions. She looked down, feeling the heat rise on her cheeks as she remembered exactly how amazing some of those positions had been. “Maybe.”
“You sly girl. I’ve actually thought about looking him up, but I can’t say I ever leave Dolly long enough for her to need a walker, and I have a feeling that Clay might not approve.”
“As if that would matter if you really wanted to.”
Jordan looked thoughtful. “You’re kind of right, but I don’t like to make Clay unhappy, and I am pretty pleased with the way things are. I mean, it’s always fun to gaze at a gorgeous man, but that’s enough for me. And besides, he can’t be hotter than Clay, can he?”
Veronica’s cheeks were going to burn off if she wasn’t careful. “I am not going to touch that one. I mean, he’s got these crinkles by his eyes that speak of laughter, and the greatest smile, but mostly he seems like more of a warrior, all broad muscle and strength. And he has this quiet, watchful way about him that…” Her voice trailed off.
“It sounds like you’ve been watching him pretty closely.”
“Well, he has been working for me for a little while now. I’ve had a lot of long hours and he’s been nice enough to bring Baxter back late.”
“Oh, has he?” There was no mistaking the tone of Jordan’s voice.
“Yes.”
“And aren’t you going to tell me more?”
Veronica looked up. “You’re one of the few people I’m comfortable talking to about him, but why don’t we walk, and then I’ll spill while I drink a glass of your incredibly expensive wine. I notice you haven’t said much about Clay, beyond that you want to make him happy. Is he serving his purpose as your boy toy?”
Jordan let out a loud laugh. “I’d love for you to call him that to his face.”
“You know that if you dare me, I will.”
“Yes, you would. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s to never dare Miss Veronica Anderson. I still remember when they promoted you to my class in sixth grade. You were small for our grade, but you refused to back down on anything.”
“I don’t think about those times very often. My mother was so proud when they moved me up, but I would have liked to stay where I was, with the friends I already had. If it hadn’t been for you, I might have started to get bad grades on purpose so that they’d put me back. I hated being the smart one.”
“You never seemed to.”
“I didn’t realize I’d managed to hide it even from you. I kept hoping that it would make my father proud, but he never mentioned it—even when I graduated cum laude and got into the law school I wanted, the one he’d gone to, he seemed to take it in stride. I’m not sure he ever said congratulations to me.”
“I’ve always hated that man.”
“Don’t say that. He’s never treated me badly.”
Jordan raised a single brow.
Veronica shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, believe me, I know he hasn’t been perfect. But it’s my own fault that I still have an issue with him.”
“At least you know you have it.”
“True. And at this point it’s as much about my career as his direct approval. I’ve invested so much of my life in the firm. I am not sure what I’ll do if he lets me down again…”
“Hold that a moment. Let me put on Dolly’s leash and we can start walking. This sounds like a definite beach walk conversation. It’s never that bad when the waves are lapping, and the dogs are doing their best to chase birds.”
“I’d like to see Baxter chase a bird. I keep thinking he will, but he just looks at them like they’re disturbing him.”
“Wait until you see Dolly. She tries to chase them in all directions at once. You wouldn’t think it was possible, but somehow she manages.”
Veronica grabbed Baxter’s lead and together they walked down the grass path and over the low dune, to the beach.
For the first few minutes they could only laugh as Dolly did indeed try to chase every gull in sight at the same time, her head moving in constant circles. Baxter looked on with disdain, but he did keep moving.
As Dolly finally settled down to a slow trot, Jordan turned to Veronica. “Do you have more to say about your father? Do you want to? I definitely don’t want to push, but I’m always here to listen.”
“I know.” Veronica turned her face to look out over the water. “It’s all coming to a head, with Dad deciding to retire and Charlotte getting married. I’ve thought he’d give me some real ownership of the firm when the time came. I am his oldest child. But now I feel like Charlotte knows something I don’t, like she’s got some kind of deal with him that if she gets married…I know it sounds crazy, but she said something the other day, a light comment—although I know it was also a bit of a dig. Of course, I admit every time she mentions Greg it feels like a dig, so that may just be me. Still, I know Dad likes women to be married. Could he have told her he’d make her partner and give her controlling interest if she got married?”
“He always has been unbelievable.”
“I know. I’ve excused him and said it was just the time he grew up in, but he seems so much more incapable of change than anyone else I know. Hell, maybe he’s retiring so he doesn’t have to change.”
Jordan snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“I know. But he doesn’t have a lot of choice—and he’s a practical man. I truly am more qualified than Charlotte, and surely h
e knows that. I mean, I think the worst he would do is leave us jointly in charge. He’s a caveman, not an idiot.”
Jordan stepped forward, moving fully into view between Veronica and the water. “Yes, I’ve heard your father talk. It’s why I tend to avoid him at parties. He once told me that it was good Mark had married me to help steady me, and that I looked like I had good hips for childbearing. I felt like I was in a historical novel. I don’t know what he’d say about my dating again. He probably thinks I should be wearing widow’s weeds for the next ten years.”
“Yep, that’s my loving father. I do hope Charlotte’s not marrying Greg because she thinks it will help her. I don’t want to believe that she’d marry him just to one up me, but…”
“But you think she might if she believes it would help. I guess it’s possible. She’s driven—a lot like you. Would you have married him if you knew your father would give you the firm if you did?”
Would she have? She had broken up with him because he was the most boring man on the planet, even if he did check many of the boxes of what she wanted in a husband—not that she wanted a husband. And she hadn’t regretted it at all—at least not until he’d gotten engaged to Charlotte. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine…No. I’m not going to trade my life for my career. I want both.”
Jordan laughed into the wind. “That’s my girl. And I think Charlotte is the same way. I don’t think she’d marry him if she didn’t want to. I honestly don’t.”
“But she might marry him sooner?”
“She might do that. I was surprised by how fast the wedding is. There was some speculation and a lot of glances at her waistline, but that’s died down. The consensus is that they must be desperately in love.”
“I can’t imagine her giving up a princess wedding for that, but maybe I’m being bitter. I was talking to Anne Petersen—she’s planning the wedding—and it doesn’t sound like Charlotte is giving up much. She actually had me helping her yesterday—Charlotte, not Anne. She still wants everything exactly the way she wants it.”
“And you wouldn’t?”
“Touché. Although I’m not planning on having a wedding.”
“We never are, until…”
“Until? Is there something I should know? The boy toy?”
“Maybe. We haven’t said anything, but sometimes we talk like it’s an assumption. It’s strange. A few months ago, I never dreamed that I’d even think about getting married again, and now it just feels natural—not that I’m in any hurry.”
“If you were, I’d tell you that you were crazy. You haven’t known him that long.”
“I’ve known Clay more than a decade,” Jordan said with a smile.
Veronica knew that was technically true. Jordan had first met Clay a long time ago, when he was dating her stepdaughter. It had been one of the difficulties in their coming together. “You know what I mean.”
Jordan smiled. “Yes, I do. And yes, there’s no hurry—although I’m not getting any younger, if I even want to think about having a child.”
Small mind explosion. Veronica hadn’t even considered that—although she probably should have. Jordan had always been maternal. “And are you?”
It was Jordan’s turn to look down at the sand. “I’m not sure—but I’m definitely not ruling it out.”
“That’s fair.”
“And it’s all that I’m going to say on the matter for now. Clay and I are very happy. There’s far less gossip than I had worried about and I’m enjoying myself. Now, let’s talk about you and Mr. Yoga.”
“Please, I think of him as Mr. Dogwalker. I haven’t seen any evidence of yoga yet.” Although, that wasn’t quite true. She’d certainly experienced his flexibility.
“Maybe we should meet in town after one of your runs and check it out.”
“Maybe we should—although I haven’t been doing much running recently, no time. It would have to be a weekend. I’m never home at sunset during the week.”
“What about tonight? I’m free. You could stay a little longer.”
“I don’t think that will work.” Although maybe she’d ask Brian for a private demonstration. “And if we’re going to continue this conversation, we’d better head back to soak in the pool, and more importantly, drink some wine—or should I say guzzle some wine?”
“If you actually want me to pull out the good stuff, no guzzling is allowed,” Jordan answered as she turned toward the house.
* * *
—
“So you have a date with him,” Jordan said, placing her wine on the side of the pool, before sliding into the warm water.
Veronica looked around the pool house. “Have I ever told you how much I love this place? It’s about the most romantic spot I can imagine, like something out of the Arabian Nights. I’ve always thought it was wasted on the two of us.”
Light color rose again on Jordan’s cheeks. “Yes, it can be quite romantic.”
Really? “Oh, please tell.”
“That’s a story for a different day. Don’t think that I haven’t noticed you didn’t answer my question. You have a date with Mr. Dogwalker tonight?”
Veronica took a moment to slide into the pool beside Jordan after carefully setting both her glass and the mostly full bottle within reach. The brief respite gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. “I don’t know that I’d call it a date.”
“Oh?”
“Maybe a hookup with pizza?”
“You’re that far along already?”
“You know I’m a fan of hot, hot sex.”
“I know you say you are, but I haven’t seen much evidence of it since high school.” Jordan sipped her wine.
“I’ve tried to mostly indulge in the city. Everyone talks in this town—as you well know.”
“True, but then, what’s different about him? And what’s his actual name? I refuse to keep calling him Mr. Dogwalker.”
“Brian Walsh.” Veronica lifted her own glass. The chilled pinot grigio was perfect while sitting in the warm swimming pool.
Jordan drew her brows together.
“Do you know him?” Veronica asked.
“I don’t think so, but there’s something so familiar about that name. Maybe somebody else mentioned it—although I can’t recall when. And there must be more than one Brian Walsh. He’s not from Forbidden Cove, is he?”
“No, although he is Mrs. Clouster’s nephew. I actually thought she would be walking Baxter. You can’t imagine my surprise when he was at my door instead of her.”
“I would have liked to see that. Why do these things never happen to me? Every repairman I get is over fifty and balding.”
“Well, considering you get Clay, I don’t think you have anything to complain about.”
“True.” Jordan leaned back in the pool with a very contented smile.
Veronica let her own head fall back. She should swim a few laps, but that felt like far too much work.
“Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. You’re way too good at changing the subject,” Jordan said.
“I didn’t change it this time. You started wondering about the name.”
“Humph. I’ll grant you that, but now spill. When did you first kiss him? Is he as hot as they say? Have you had sex with him yet? Is he good?”
“He’s definitely as hot, if not hotter, than they say—of course, I have no idea what they say, but he is smokin’. If I truly wanted to distract you, I’d talk about his eight-pack for the next ten minutes. I swear I’ve never seen a body like his. I don’t think there is a millimeter of fat anywhere. And the man’s thighs and ass. God, I’d kill a man who talked about me this way.”
“True. But I’m still glad to hear it—every single scrumptious detail.”
“And there’s definitely a strange chemistry that I’ve never experience
d. I normally go for the bookish type, not the gym rat.”
Jordan turned toward her. “Even only for sex?”
“It’s always only for sex—and yet…”
Jordan rolled her eyes. “You constantly say that, and I never quite believe it. Greg wasn’t only about sex, was he? And if it was just sex, why would it matter if you liked the guy?”
“And look how it turned out with Greg. You make everything too complicated. Yes, I like someone I can talk to and I’m not big on one-night stands, but I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“I think we may define relationship differently.”
“I don’t want anyone depending on me, and I want to be able to end it whenever I choose. I don’t like sleepovers. I do like waking up slowly and then making my way to the coffee.” Although it had been nice having someone make the coffee for her in the morning, but then he’d had the grace to leave before she had to talk with him. Morning chatter was not her thing.
“You’re missing out. Cuddly, sweet morning sex is the best—or maybe super fast Wham Bam morning sex…or perhaps long, slow after-coffee sex.” Her eyes grew dreamy. “You are definitely missing out if you’re not having sleepovers.”
“That’s only because you don’t know what happened last night.” And why had she said that?
“Oh, was your first time last night?”
And she’d led right into this one. “No, it wasn’t our first time. That was after the Petersens’ party.”
Jordan straightened up. “How long have you been seeing this man?”
“Well, I haven’t really seen him since that first time—other than dog pickup and drop-off, until last night. And that first time truly was a hookup. We didn’t even make it to the bed.”
“On the table? Or the couch? The kitchen counter? I love the kitchen counter.”
That was more than she needed to know. “Against the wall in the hall. Although, last night started with the dining room table.”
“I can just imagine it, now that you’ve described his thighs—the wall, that is. And I haven’t even seen him.”
