What Janie Wants (12 page)

Zade slouched deeper in the cushioned poolside chair and nodded absently as Devin and three of his friends knocked back beers and droned about sports. Water was sloshed up on the concrete deck, WWE quality antics were mid-flight in the shallow end, and an impromptu dance off was underway by the bar. A classic college blowout, all except the handful of them gathered round the three tables furthest from the pool.

One table over, Janie threw her head back and laughed to the heavens at something one of the older women said. A camera perfect shot. The line of her neck, lips open and eyes closed in pure joy.

Four perfect days. Outside of his royal fuck up selling the business to those cookie cutter hacks in California and the anger he’d nursed after the fact, Zade usually kept a pretty easygoing attitude. A simple life governed by the peaceful teachings of his parents, but something had always seemed missing. Not the stove burner left on kind of missing. More like the-party-can’t-quite-start-yet missing.

Janie had started the party. One smile and a whole life track he hadn’t even known was idle, kicked into motion.

Damn, that dress looked good on her. White, crinkled linen that hugged her curves then flared out full near her ankles so it swayed when she walked. Her skin might’ve been standard creamy redhead fare when she’d first gotten here, but it was a light beige now. And that hair. The best part of every night was getting his hands in it, grabbing on tight, and making sure she couldn’t get her lips away from his.

“
I don’t know, man, what do you think?”

Shit, what was Devn talking about? Oh, right. The upcoming college season. “Hard to call. Though football’s not my strength, so not sure my opinion’s worth much.”

The music switched to something straight up pop. All the girls around Janie surged to their feet with wild shrieks and darted to the dance floor, beer in hand.

Janie bit her lip and watched them go.

God, he wished she’d join them. She’d been doing so well. Opening up, letting her emotional hair down, and laughing all the time. He loved her laugh. Throaty and deep. Kind of like when she came with his cock buried to the hilt, except then it was more of a growl.

She meandered over, hips swaying, and pulled a chair up next to him. “Is it safe over here? Or should I stay over at the girls’ table?”

“
Babe, you go wherever the hell you want to go.” He snatched her by the wrist before she could sit and pulled her onto his lap. He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “But if you’re coming over here, I want that fine ass where I can feel it.”

“
Ha.” She kissed his forehead and her hair fell forward the same way as when she’d ridden him the night before. Her honey and vanilla perfume wrapped around him, soft as the ocean breeze at his back. “Give it five minutes and you’ll be singing a different tune when your foot falls asleep from all the weight.”

A few of the men cast none-to-subtle glances in their direction. They’d done it all night, most aimed on her killer curves. Every now and then he had to curb the urge to punch the bastards and tell them to mind their own damned business. Most of the time he gloated.

Cupping the back of her neck, he nipped her earlobe. “You know you could dance if you wanted. Hell, you could strip if you wanted. Pretty sure we’re the only two here who’d pass a sobriety test.”

“
Arlo could pass.”

“
Yeah, but Arlo’s busy selling booze and his hips don’t look like yours. Got no interest in seeing him dance.”

“
I might do it.” She cocked her head and watched the girls on the pseudo dance floor go to town. “Assuming you get me another wine and the right song comes on.”

“
Deal. One dance-inducing wine and a troll through Arlo’s playlists.” He urged her to her feet and dropped a lingering kiss to her lips. “Go easy on the boys while I’m gone. Half of them are trying to figure out how to cock block me so they can have a chance at you.”

She dipped her chin and arched an eyebrow at him in disbelief as he ambled off.

Silly woman. She still didn’t get it.

Shit. Maybe encouraging her to dance was a bad thing. He could buy her a drink, make some excuse to the guys about needing to leave, and take his time with her getting back to the bungalow. Not one of the men would blame him for ditching.

No, they couldn’t bail yet. She wanted to dance. Had bobbed her head or tapped her foot to whatever blared out of the sound system since they’d gotten there. The bit about waiting for the right song was an excuse. A way to bide her time and build her courage. If she wanted to dance, he’d by God listen to Devin and his cronies’ sports shit until she got her groove on. “Yo, Arlo.”

His uncle finished two something-and-cokes and handed them off to the waiting women. He waited until they were out of earshot and muttered under his breath, “Something tells me housekeeping tomorrow is going to take twice as long.”

“
True, but it’s their last night here and you’ve covered your August with their mess.”

Not waiting for direction, Arlo pulled the tap on a Modelo for Zade. “Janie want something?”

“
She’s doing wine tonight. White.”

Arlo nodded and grabbed an open bottle from the fridge beneath the counter. “She seems happy. Come to think of it, you’re pretty mellow too.”

Hell, yeah, he was happy. Happy and hoping he’d find a way to keep things moving with her when he got home. Assuming she could get over the age thing. The last thing he wanted was a relationship where they couldn’t be themselves. “One day at a time. And don’t go spouting off to Dahlia, either. She’ll call mom, and that’s a whole level of pressure neither one of us needs.”

“
Like Dahlia’s not already clued in to things more than you are.” Arlo handed over the drinks and turned to take the order of a dripping couple on the other side of the bar.

The Sight. Unbelievable as it sounded, his aunt did seem tuned into something pretty amazing in the way of reading how things would go down with people. He’d rather not know the answers in advance and trust his own inner voice to guide the way.

“
Hold up.” Zade motioned at the iPhone plugged into the sound system below the counter. “You got anything Janie would like to dance to on that thing?”

“
Like what?”

“
I dunno.” Crap, what would she want to hear? “You got anything funky or old-school?”

Arlo smiled big enough, his slightly crooked front teeth peeked out from beneath his bushy mustache. “I think I might have something our girl would like.”

Sidestepping a fat puddle on the concrete, Zade padded back to their table. There had to be a way to broach seeing her again when they got home. First things first, though. He’d have to clue her in to them practically being neighbors.

Janie sat on the edge of his chair, forearms crossed on the table and fully engaged in the conversation. Actually, she talked, they listened. Every damned one of them was focused on her like she’d drop the secret to a perfect fantasy football season in the next second.

Deep laughter rumbled around the table as he walked up.

Janie blasted him with a huge smile he felt down to his toes and stood to give him his seat.

“
You didn’t mention your woman’s into sports,” Devin said.

“
I wouldn’t say I’m into it.” Janie took the wine and settled back on his lap, draping an arm around him. “I’d say I’ve had a lot of exposure to opinions. My son’s a rabid football lover.”

The comment tripped something in Devin’s expression, like two and two had snapped together to form a winning lottery ticket combination. His gaze slid to Zade. “Yeah, that’s cool.” Man speak for
you lucky fucking bastard.

Great. Now Devin and his merry band of testosterone laden sport fanatics would be hitting up thirty-plus women from here to wherever home was. Good thing tomorrow was their last day at Gypsy Cove.

A new song started up. Big horns and a funky beat he recognized but had only heard a few times.

Janie jerked upright and almost spilled her wine. “I know this one.”

So did the women who’d been talking to Janie, if their happy squeals were any indication.

“
My mom played this song all the time when I was growing up,” Janie said. “KC & The Sunshine Band.”

“
The who?” Devin craned his head to watch the women dance.

“
KC & The Sunshine Band. Out of Florida.” She sipped her wine and bobbed side to side. “Believe it or not, he’s still touring. I bought my mom tickets to a casino show a few years ago.”

Zade pulled the wine from her hand and nudged her off his lap. “There a reason you’re still here?”

She hesitated, gaze trained on the other dancing girls thoroughly enjoying themselves.

He squeezed her hand. “You wanted to dance. You like the song. What’s stopping you?”

She looked back at him. Her eyes brightened and her shoulders squared. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

And off she went.

Arlo was a fucking musical selection genius. Zade should have known she’d dance like she did everything else. Not slinky and aimed to gain men’s attention, but free and full of emotion. Her head was down and her eyes were closed. She held her arms above her head, snapping and clapping every now and then, and swung her hips side to side. Sometimes she hit the beat, sometimes she didn’t, but every move she made said she was one hundred percent in the moment.

“
Man, you know how to pick ’em.” Devin’s envious voice broke through Zade’s thoughts.

Pick her? He wasn’t so sure about that. More like fate had offered up a chance for both of them if they were willing to face the challenges. He was damn sure willing. More than willing. He wanted more. More of her smiles. More of her no-nonsense approach to getting things done. More of the sunshine that seemed to go everywhere she went.

The song ended with a blast of horns and the girls all whooped and hollered for more.

Zade finished off his beer and stood, something primal bubbling up he didn’t quite understand and didn’t care to analyze. He only had two nights and one full day left to convince Janie to take that challenge with him. He’d tackle the right words for why they should be together later. Right now it was time to show her.

The song’s last chord blasted through the speakers, and the crowd around Janie hooted and hollered for more. She lifted her thick hair off the back of her neck and gave a thumbs up to Arlo as half the dancers descended with demands for more from his secret playlist.

Big hands slid around her waist and splayed hip to hip. Zade. Even if she’d not grown accustomed to his citrusy cologne, she recognized him on contact. The firm press of his chest, the certainty of his touch, the electricity of his presence.

He skimmed his lips down her neck. “Is it gonna freak you out if I start carrying my camera around the rest of the time you’re here?”

Tilting her head to give him and his talented mouth better access, she rested her hands on top of his and closed her eyes. The breeze cooled her heated skin and a new, slow song with a rhythm and blues feel drifted from the speakers. “Actually, I thought it was strange you hadn’t already. Seems like every landscape is a postcard waiting to happen.”