My Kinda Night (Summer Sisters Book 2) Page 2

  “You know you can’t, honey. You need to eat so we can get dressed and get groceries.”

  “Can I have mac and cheese when we have lunch with Mimi?” Mimi is the name she started using for my mom when she was learning to talk.

  Flipping over the pancake, I ask, “Don’t you eat mac and cheese every day?”

  “Yes, because it’s yummy.”

  “It is yummy, but I’d love you to have something other than mac and cheese today,” I say as I pull the first three pancakes off the griddle. “Grab the syrup. You can have these,” I add as I set the pancakes on her plate.

  Pouring more batter on the griddle, I watch out of the corner of my eye as she douses her food in sticky syrup. Looks like we’re taking another bath this morning. Smiling at myself, I flip three more and my stomach growls while I watch them cook. Fortunately, that’s the good thing about pancakes: they’re quick. Placing the food on another plate, I join my daughter at the table.

  The rest of our morning progresses as we get ready, grocery shop, run back home to put them away, and finally head up to the café to meet Mom. She’s already waiting at a booth when we enter.

  “Mimi!” Bri yells in the busy café as she runs towards my smiling mom.

  “Good morning, sunshine. How was your morning?”

  “Good. Daddy said crap when we were in the store. He got all the way to the front and remembered some’ting in the back.” Without a care in the world, Bri grabs the cup of crayons the waitresses always deliver to the table for her to color on the white paper placemat.

  “Bri, we don’t say bad words, even if you’re repeating something Daddy said. Got it?” I say in my best ‘stern daddy’ voice.

  “Got it,” she replies sweetly with that smile that melts my heart. It’s no wonder she’s spoiled rotten. I’m helpless against those big brown doe eyes and that smile.

  Mom smiles broadly at me. “She’s got quite the memory,” she says humorously.

  “Yeah, it’s great. She doesn’t hear me when I’m in the kitchen and she’s watching TV in the next room, but the moment I mumble a curse word under my breath, she has the hearing of an owl.”

  “All kids, honey. All kids have that. It’s called selective hearing, and you had it too when you were younger.”

  The perky waitress brings out our usual two glasses of ice tea and a lidded cup of apple juice. “Good morning, Brielle. What are you going to draw today?”

  “A zebra and an elephant!” Bri replies, scribbling pink frantically on the paper.

  Jenna sets two menus on the table as she says, “That will be a fabulous picture.”

  “You can have it when I’m done.” Scribble, scribble, scribble.

  “I would love it. I’ll put it on my fridge next to the picture of the goat.”

  Jenna winks at me. “I’ll let you look at the menu and be back in a flash to take your orders.”

  “Mac and cheese!” Bri yells.

  “Indoor voice, please. And we’ve already discussed this. Your choices are cheeseburger, chicken fingers, or spaghetti.”

  “Sketty, please,” she answers without looking up from her masterpiece.

  “You should ask her out,” Mom says. It takes me a moment to catch up and realize what she’s said.

  “What? Who?” I lower my voice in an attempt to not be overheard by little ears.

  “Jenna. She likes you.”

  “She’s too young.”

  “No such thing, honey.”

  “Not true. There’s definitely a too young category, Mom. Especially for a man who just crossed into his thirties.”

  “Fine, whatever. She’s probably mid-twenties, which is not too young for you.”

  I consider her words for a few moments, but quickly toss them out. She’s cute, funny, friendly, and always pleasant to Bri, but even with all of those attributes on her side, I’m just not into her.

  Fact of the matter, I’ve found myself into only one woman lately. I’ve spent six months fantasizing about someone who is as hot and cold as they come. Friends one moment and ripping each other’s clothes off the next. Truth is she’s the only woman to get my heart racing in a long damn time, if you know what I mean. And can I really call her a friend? It’s not like we hang out. Ever. It’s a weird situation, and one I’m not ready to dissect at the moment, especially with my Mom.

  “She’s a sweet girl, but I’m just not interested.” Her brown eyes are focused on mine, assessing and reading me like a book.

  “Fine. If not her, then who?”

  Before I can reply, Jenna returns to take our orders. I order the spaghetti for Bri, a Ruben for myself, and Mom orders a turkey club. Since our conversation, I pay a little more attention to Jenna. Her smiles hold a little flirtation and her eyes linger a little longer than expected in casual conversation. My mind wanders to the possibilities a relationship with the friendly blond might entail, but the daydreams are brushed aside by the memory of a brunette with deep green eyes and a smart mouth. She monopolizes way too much of my thoughts and even more of my dreams.

  Damn, is she front and center in those. And usually naked.

  A few random nights with her did nothing to quench the desire sparked to life by her. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever be sated. Not after that first night, nor the few that followed. But rules are rules, even if I’m not the one to set them. There are certain relationships that are to be strictly platonic.

  Ours is one of them.

  Jenna leaves our table to take care of another. I relax in the booth, my arm extended across the backrest. We both watch Bri color for a few minutes before I initiate the topic of work.

  “So, I’ve thought about what you said and I’ve decided to go.” I don’t have to refresh her memory because I’m positive she knows exactly what I’m referring to. It’s not like we have a lot of topics hanging open and unresolved.

  “I think that’s wise. You need to for work, and we’ll be fine.”

  Exhaling deeply, I give her my full attention. “I know. It’s just a bad time at work, and it’ll take a lot of coordination with you to help with Bri.”

  “I’ve already told you that I’ll adjust my schedule, Dean. You need this conference for work as part of your continued education. I’ll stay at your house with Bri, get her off to school, and then head to work myself. She’ll still go to Miss Nancy’s after school and I’ll get her when I get off work. It’s for, what, three days? I think I can manage for thirty-six hours. We’ll be fine.”

  And they will be, I know it. It’s just that I’ve never left Bri for that length of time. The occasional sleepover with my mom is one thing, but three whole nights? When that’s all you’ve done for just over five years, it’s hard to let someone else take the wheel for a few days.

  But she’s also right that it’s required of me for my job. I’ve put it off three times now, and I’m unable to get out of not going any more. My boss and one of the owners of the firm gave me strict orders to attend this conference or else. And since I require my job to, you know, buy groceries and pay my mortgage, I guess it’s off to Richmond I go.

  “I know, Mom. I just hate the thought of leaving her.”

  Jenna delivers our food and all conversations turn to Bri and her animal drawings. She’s obsessed with everything animals from barnyard to the ones in the wild. Her room might be pink but there’s animal posters covering parts of the walls and an array of stuffed dogs, cats, horses, cows, monkeys, and even a zebra on her bed.

  “When do you leave?” Mom asks when the plates are being collected.

  “Just over two weeks. It’s a Wednesday through Friday conference,” I say as I grab the check in the center of the table. “This one’s on me.”

  “You got it last week,” she chastises with a frown.

  Mom found a steady, decent paying job several years back, and while I know she can easily pick up the check at lunch, I still prefer to get it. Call me chivalrous or old fashioned, but I just think the man–or in my case, son
–should pay.

  “You can get next week if you’re quick enough,” I retort with a grin.

  “I thought I raised you better than to be a wisenheimer. At least let me cover the tip,” Mom says as she pulls two fives from her purse.

  “Fine,” I say before turning towards Bri. “Time to go, pumpkin.”

  “Grab your jacket, Bri, and I’ll help you get it on while Daddy goes up and pays the check.”

  “‘Kay, Mimi. Can we go to the park?” I hear my daughter ask as I head up to the counter.

  Glancing over my shoulder I watch my mom take Bri by the hand and head outside to wait for me. The café is always busy for Sunday lunch, and today is no different. As I collect my change and head towards the door, a familiar face is walking through. I stop in my tracks at the first sight I’ve had of her in several weeks. She’s stunning in a light blue sweater that hugs her glorious chest, tight dark jeans covering my favorite pair of legs, and tan ankle boots that I wouldn’t mind seeing wrapped around my neck.

  She’s a vision.

  And when those dark green eyes lock on mine, I’m a goner. Completely smitten and she doesn’t even know it. My chest burns as oxygen fails to move through my lungs. Her smile starts hesitant but spreads sincerely to light up her heart-shaped face. There’s warmth and familiarity reflecting in her eyes until a woman walks in and stands beside her.

  She instantly closes me off, shutting down the flutter of happiness I saw starting to settle on her face. She warmly greets her companion, a woman whose resemblance is uncanny. A sister, probably.

  Instead of letting this moment turn uncomfortable, I offer them both cordial greetings and head towards the door. Before I can breach the threshold, however, I can’t help but turn back and glance over my shoulder. She’s there, standing beside a table filling up with people I can see as her family, but her eyes are on me. They lock for several heart-pounding seconds before the corner of her mouth turns upward. I can’t stop my own smile from cresting my lips.

  Winking at the woman that I often run into in my dreams–and those day ones when I’m alone in the shower–I turn and step out into the sunlight. Jupiter Bay is a small town, and I’m never prepared for the way my body reacts to seeing her. My libido fires to life and my blood starts to hum. I’m always caught off guard when I run into her, but I’m left yearning for more. She gave me a taste, and I’m left wanting. More of everything.

  More Payton Summer.

  Chapter Three

  Payton

  “Who was that?” AJ asks as we take a seat beside each other at the largest table in the café.

  “Who?” I ask casually.

  “Seriously? Who? Ummm, the hottie with his eyes on you. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice. Grandma has twenty-eighty vision and she could even see those invisible sparks.”

  “What hottie? What did I miss?” Grandma says from behind, startling me in my chair.

  “Some guy was checking Payton out,” AJ tells her in a sing-song voice.

  “Ahhh, Payters. Do you want me to go get his number for you?” Grandma asks, taking a seat at the end of the table beside Grandpa. Of course, she says it loud enough to catch the attention of everyone at the table. I can feel the heat creep up my neck and land squarely in my cheeks.

  “No, Grandma, I don’t need his number,” I reply while reaching for the glass of ice water in front of me.

  “Back in our day, we didn’t have those phones. When we liked someone, we had to ask their parents if we could court their daughter,” Grandpa adds.

  “Psssh! The only courting you did was in the backseat of that old station wagon,” Grandma hollers over the noise in the café. Pretty much all commotion and activity inside the restaurant stops instantly. Cue that blush again.

  “I loved that ol’ car,” Grandpa says with a chuckle.

  “Anyway, if you’re too shy, Payters, I’ll go flag down the hottie and get his phone number for you.” All eyes turn towards me.

  “No, thank you, Grandma. I’m good.”

  “There’s no substitute for the real thing, Pay. No amount of toys can satisfy a woman the way a man can.”

  “Jesus, we haven’t even taken our seats yet and we’re already talking about penises?” Ryan says, holding out an empty seat across from me for my sister Jaime.

  “Or lack thereof,” AJ says. “Grandma was getting ready to school Payton on the differences between a vibrator and the real deal. Apparently, Grandma’s an expert.”

  “I am an expert. I’ve been playing with one since I was old enough to drive a car. I’ve seen my fair share of meat sausages, girls. Big ones, little ones that curved to the side. Once, I even saw a black one that was bigger than my forearm.”

  And cue the choking on my water. AJ tries to pound on my back, but she’s too busy laughing to really help in the matter. Ryan is trying to hide his laughter behind his menu and poor Abby looks like she’d rather melt into the floor and disappear. Everyone else is fighting their own battle with laughter. The only person not surprised by Grandma’s blunt comment is Grandpa. In fact, he seems completely unfazed at all the penis talk–especially since a good chunk of it wasn’t pertaining to his.

  “Can we talk about something other than penises in a family-friendly café?” I beg.

  “Like that man who was making moon-eyes at you?”

  “You didn’t even see him. How do you know he was making any kinda eyes at me?”

  “I know these things, Payter Potater. I’m Grandma.”

  She says it like that’s supposed to be a good enough reason, and because I don’t have the energy or the desire to fight her on it, I let it go. Of course, she thinks she’s right and that’s why I’m not fighting back. The fact is, I don’t want to draw more attention to the man who makes my pulse quicken and my panties melt. I’ve spent four amazing nights with him in the last six months, but no more.

  I can’t.

  We practically work together in a sense, and it’s a line I can’t cross. My business means everything to me, therefore you don’t diddle where you eat. Or in my case, you don’t diddle where you work–again. That one time was a mistake. An amazing, fantastic, orgasmic mistake. One I won’t make again. I still have a hard time looking at that stainless steel workstation without recalling the feel of that cold metal against my bare chest while he made me scream his name not once, but twice.

  And let’s not forget the fact that my front windows are all open to the street. Thank God he had enough sense to turn off the lights in the front of the flower shop before sliding his dick inside me from behind.

  I shudder at the memory.

  I swore that would be our last time. Hell, I said that after the first night. And the time after that. Next thing I knew, we’d spent four different nights together. Besides that one night at my business, one that spilled over to my place later, we’d always met up at my house. Hell, I don’t even know where he lives. All I know is that we’re linked professionally, and therefore, shouldn’t have engaged in sex. Not once, and definitely not four times.

  “You feeling okay? You’re all flushed?” Jaime asks from across the table.

  “Fine,” I reply, sipping more water.

  “Don’t let her bother you. She only wants to help.”

  “I know. I just wish she’d lay off me finding a man, you know? Not everyone is cut out for coupledom.”

  She stares at me hard. “That’s bullshit and you know it. I’m the poster child for wanting to stay single forever, Pay. And look at me now,” she says as she glances over at her boyfriend. They both smile before Ryan places a kiss on her lips. They’re always kissing and feeling each other up. I guess if I had that new, crazy love feeling, I’d be all lovey dovey, touchy feely too.

  But I’m not.

  Thank God.

  “Hey, Jaime, how did it go with Ryan’s family at Christmas?” Meghan asks.

  “Fine,” she replies quickly. Too quickly.

  Lexi must pick up on it too because her eyes nar
row into little slits as she zeros in on her target. “There’s a story. I can tell.”

  “No, no story. How are the wedding plans coming, Meg?” she asks, going for the redirect.

  “No you don’t! What happened?” Lexi insists. When she sinks her teeth into something, she’s not about to ease up.

  Jaime’s eyes close before she glances over at Ryan. He’s smiling like the cat that ate the canary, which basically just confirms that there’s a story there.

  “Fine,” she mumbles, conceding. “Everything was great at first. I loved helping his mother cook and his sister was friendly and easy to talk to. We hit it off quickly. On Christmas Eve, I ran upstairs to shower, and well, Ryan ended up needing a shower at the same time.”

  Ryan snorts beside her. “Babe, I didn’t need a shower.”

  “Anyway,” she interrupts, drawing out that one word. “We were, you know, together in the shower, when his mom came into our room to bring an extra blanket for the bed since it gets cold at night in New York. She heard my scream in the shower and thought I hurt myself. She can running in and…”

  “And Mom caught me in the upswing during some of my best moves. I’ve never killed a hard-on so quick in my life.”

  “That’s saying something considering you two have been busted getting freaky more times than all of us combined,” I retort with a laugh.

  “My boobs were pressed against the Plexiglas shower door, Payton. It doesn’t get any more humiliating than that.”

  “What about the time you were busted by Barney the cop while having sex in that field entrance?” Lexi asks.

  “Or what about the time you had a screaming competition with your neighbors at the Bed and Breakfast, only to find out it was Grandma and Grandpa?” Meghan asks through her own laughter.

  “Oh God, those were so humiliating too.”

  “Are you and ‘Oh God’ fooling around under the table over there?” Grandma yells towards Jaime, loud enough to catch the attention of those around us. Her face burns with mortification.

  “No!”

  “One of these days, I’d love for you to say, ‘Yes. Yes, I am stroking him under the table.’”