“Certifiable,” I agree, but we mean it affectionately.
Mara is like your mom and friend rolled into one. Always good for a laugh, and she doesn’t take herself too seriously, but she’s also the first one to offer sage advice.
Mara and Paul are siblings, and they’ve owned and run this place the past twenty years. Neither is married, so we are the only family they have. They both have big hearts and a penchant for rescuing strays and orphans, like me.
There’s no doubt I lucked out when I found this place last summer.
“Whatcha waiting for?” Chloe asks, swiping my tray. “I’ll deliver this. You go check out the man candy.”
Tucking some stray strands of my dark-blonde hair behind my ears, I tighten my ponytail and wipe my sweaty hands down the front of my apron. Then, I grab my pen and pad and walk toward the end booth.
I spot Sawyer Hunt first. Difficult not to when he’s facing my way. His tall frame is upright against the backrest, his features fixed on me, and his stare is intense like a heat-seeking missile.
Even though I can only see his back, it’s not challenging to figure out who Sawyer’s lunch buddy is. The dirty-blond hair, broad shoulders, and deep chuckle give Jackson Lauder away.
Nerves punch me in the gut, but I force them aside, plastering a smile on my face. “Hey, guys. Long time, no see.”
“Hey, Van.” Sawyer smiles. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too. I didn’t realize you were back in New York.”
My skin tingles when I feel Jackson Lauder’s hot gaze on the side of my face.
“Just for the summer,” Sawyer adds, sipping a soda Mara obviously brought him.
“We’re planning to hit The Hamptons next month,” Jackson says, speaking for the first time. “You in?”
I turn my head toward him, smothering my shocked gasp. Jackson has always been good-looking, but he has matured into one hot as fuck sexy bastard. His hair is longer at the front, falling stylishly into blue eyes as deep as the ocean. He’s sporting a thin layer of scruff on his chin and jawline, and my fingers itch to explore the angled planes of his face. With a strong nose, high cheekbones, and lips I’ve always longed to taste, Jackson Lauder is sex on a stick.
My long-forgotten libido awakens, and lust pools low in my belly.
In a lightning-fast move, Jackson extends his arm, tipping my chin up with his finger. “Careful you don’t catch flies.” He winks, gracing me with the full extent of his killer smile, and I consciously snap myself out of whatever trance I’m in.
Heat creeps up my neck and on to my cheeks. “Still a cocky asshole,” I mutter.
“Still cocky,” he agrees, grabbing his crotch suggestively. “You never got up close and personal. We should rectify that.”
It wasn’t for lack of trying. I cringe as I recall the number of times I threw myself at him. Or the number of times he rebuked me. Which was humiliating because Jackson Lauder is a walking STD. He only has to trip and his cock impales a pussy.
The queen bees of The Hamptons loved rubbing my nose in it.
Even though I was besties with Sawyer—a situation our parents forced—and I hung out with him, Jackson, and Camden a lot, they treated me like I had the plague.
Except for the time I took Sawyer’s virginity. And that one night, the summer before junior year, when I pounced on a very drunk Camden Marshall and he fucked me. Every other time, they kept me at arm’s length while they happily took other girls for a ride on their cocks.
“Are you … hitting on me?” Disbelief underscores my tone.
“What if I am?” Jackson leans his elbows on the table, and his biceps flex and roll with the motion. It’s obvious he has sorted his shit out since I last saw him. I guess that is something we’ve got in common. Although I’m still a work in progress.
“Then I’d tell you you’re wasting your time,” I lie. “Because I’m not the same person you knew.”
“Is that right?” He dazzles me with a panty-melting smile.
Paul calls my name, and I glance over my shoulder, grateful for the interruption. My boss gestures with his hands, urging me to hurry up.
“You want to order something?” I grip my pen, keeping it poised over my notepad, purposely ending the flirtatiousness.
“The older waitress took our order,” Sawyer confirms.
“She’s something else,” Jackson adds, and my lips twitch.
“I’ve got to get back to work. I’m not part of The Hamptons’ crew anymore, so I won’t be there, but have fun,” I say, moving to walk away.
“Van, wait.” Sawyer slides out of the booth, gently taking my elbow. He slips a card into my hand. “That’s my number. Text me so I have yours, and if you need anything, call me.”
“Why?” I blurt, looking up at him as I drop the card into the front pocket of my apron.
“I don’t know what’s happened, but I know you’re on your own.” His earnest hazel eyes drill into mine. “We were good friends one time.”
“When we were like ten.” Honestly, every other summer, he avoided me as much as he could.
He lets my elbow go, holding his hands up. “I have no agenda, Van. If you find yourself in need of a friend, call me.”
I search his eyes and his gorgeous face, and I detect no hint of a lie. His offer is sincere, and only an idiot would turn him down. “Okay, thanks.” I cast one last glance at Jackson, and his eyes are fixated on my bare legs. I’m the tallest of all the waitresses here, and the pink-and-white-plaid dress uniform is shorter on me than most of the women, so I’m flashing a fair amount of skin.
Without overthinking it, I grab a napkin off the table and dab the corner of Jackson’s mouth. “You had a little drool.”
Sawyer’s deep laughter follows me from the booth, and I’m fighting a grin as I head back to work.
_______________
I didn’t see the guys leave because it was a crazy busy shift, and I was late finishing up, which means I’m late arriving at Kayleigh’s class.
Every Thursday at five, I sneak into the auditorium on Fifty-ninth Street where she takes weekly ballet classes. Mom lets me have an hour after ballet ends to take her out. I don’t know what lies she’s told her bastard husband, but I don’t care because this time is precious, and I’ll take it for as long as I can get it. I only wish I had time to spend with Hunter too, but it’s far too risky because he’s close with his dad and he’s not as street smart as his twin sister. Without me or Mom having to explain it, Kayleigh understands her father can never know she still sees me or these visits will stop.
I slink into a seat in the back row of the auditorium, watching my little sister command the stage like a pro.
She skips out of the changing area after the session has finished, throwing herself into my arms, and I hold her tight, closing my eyes as I drink in her comforting warmth.
“Can we get ice cream?” she asks, her blue eyes sparkling with expectation.
“Sure can.” I grab her hand, swinging our arms together as we walk out of the auditorium. “But practice first.”
She nods, humming to herself as we walk toward the south midtown entrance to Central Park. Kayleigh chatters away as we head to our usual place, and I hold her hand tighter, smiling as she regales me with tales of her week. She’s like a little ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark world, and I cherish our time together. So far, I detect nothing to indicate he’s preying on her. She’s her usual bright, bubbly self, and I offer up a silent prayer it continues to stay that way.