“What should we toast to?” she asked, holding hers up in the air. “Oh wait, I know.” Her large Gucci bag wasn’t far from where she was sitting, and she reached inside and pulled out a small box. “How about to the most incredible dessert we’ve ever had?”
I chuckled as I looked at the familiar packaging. “Is that what I think it is?”
“You mean, did I stop by the bakery to get you a half-moon cookie and some chocolate-coconut fudge?” She winked. “Maybe.”
“You fucking didn’t.”
“Gloria says hello.” She clinked her glass against mine and took a drink. “I have to admit, seeing you smile is one of my favorite things ever.”
I held the glass against the blanket, not bringing it up to my lips. “I can’t believe you went there for me.”
And I couldn’t believe she’d come all the way to LA, knowing that with school winding down, she had a lot of shit on her plate.
“I know how much you enjoy her baking,” she said, using her fingers to pop a piece of sushi into her mouth. “It was the least I could do.”
I ran my hand across her calf, pulling her foot onto my lap. “Thank you.”
She nodded and took another bite. “Jenner, the house is as beautiful as I envisioned.” Her stare shifted up to the glass windows that aligned the back of the home. “I remember when we talked about it, and I had this picture in my head—this is it.” Her gaze returned to me. “It’s unfortunate you can’t unplug here, that your parents don’t let you.”
I sighed, reaching for a set of chopsticks to pick up the nigiri. “They have no problem doing that when they come on the weekends. My father goes on bike rides, and my mother walks the beach. Their chef prepares them three meals a day, and they eat up there”—I pointed at the patio—“where they watch the waves between bites.” I chewed the savory tuna belly and took a drink of wine. “But when we’re here as a family, it’s all business.”
“I can see how your parents can unwind here.” She stared out at the beach. “It’s so gorgeous. Magical even.” She lifted her set of chopsticks and took a few pieces of the yellowtail sashimi that was peppered with jalapeño. “It’s funny; I spent tons of time in Malibu as a kid, even as a teenager. When my friends and I turned old enough to drive, we’d come here every weekend. I didn’t appreciate it then. It was just a beach, nothing special—water, sand, sun. But now, it’s something.” Her eyes were on me. “Or maybe it’s just being here with you.”
I observed her taking a deep breath.
“Can I ask you something?”
I slipped off her shoe, rubbing the back of her foot. “Of course.”
“How many women have you brought here?”
I kneaded my knuckles into her arch. “None.”
“Seriously?” She tilted her head. “Not a single one?”
“No.”
I watched that news settle into her, hit her in a way she wasn’t expecting.
“And to be honest, a woman has never stayed the weekend at my house.” I licked across my bottom lip. “And they certainly don’t have the code to my gate.” I could see her thoughts when I continued, “Does this keep getting more interesting?”
“Yep.” She took a sip. “That’s kind of an understatement.”
The breeze fed me more of her scent right before I said, “You’re different, Jo.”
Admitting that out loud wasn’t as hard as I’d thought. Maybe that was because I’d been thinking it for so long, fighting those words every time they tried to resonate.
She wedged her wine into the sand, leaving the chopsticks in the container. “I’ve never been different before.”
“I can tell you don’t want to be ordinary. You haven’t since the moment I met you.”
“Because I’m the fool who went up to your suite ten minutes after meeting you. You’re right; that’s hardly ordinary.”
I squeezed her toes, punishing her for that wicked statement. “Because you showed me who you really are. I couldn’t fucking resist you, and I charmed you into sleeping with me.”
She grinned. “Is that what went down?”
“Yes.” I pulled her foot until she was close enough to pick up and put on my lap, wrapping my arms around her. “We both know I didn’t give you a choice. You were either walking up to my room or I was carrying you.”
She leaned her back into my chest, and I could hear the smile in her breathing.
We stayed quiet for several moments until she said, “Would you ever buy a place out here? Somewhere to slow down—you know, a space that forces you to unplug?”
“The air is my second home. I would hate to think I’d have to come back to the same place all the time, month after month, when there are so many spots I still want to visit.”
“Ah, but you’re looking at it all wrong.” She nuzzled her face against my neck. “This wouldn’t be travel. This would be an escape. Hotels are fabulous, but they don’t feel like home. This is somewhere that can comfort you, that will give you the extras, like the fuzzy, warm robe you take the time to put on after your shower, the high-end cookware you use to make yourself a meal, the hardcover you finally find the time to sit back and read. Then, after a couple days, you hop on the plane and travel like normal.”
The idea of a second home wasn’t foreign. Dominick had an investment property. My parents had several. I certainly saw the attraction and had considered it in the past.
I pressed my lips against the top of her head. “The only thing is, if I don’t go to the house often enough, I’d feel like I was cheating on her … and we already know I have a problem with commitment.”
She shook her head. “I can’t with you …”
I held her tighter, staring out onto the ocean. “This is beautiful, but it’s not a view I’d want.”
“What sight would you rather have outside your windows?”
“The mountains.” That was the scenery I often saw in my mind—the lush hills, covered in fresh snow or fall foliage, the fresh air. “Park City.”
“Utah is your special place, huh?”
There was something about Jo’s scent that reminded me of that town. “I’ve been many, many times. It never gets old. I never get tired of it. In fact, I almost crave going there. Have you been?”
“No.”