“You were dancing with him.”
“Only till I could get rid of him.”
Jenny pointed. “Over there. Behind the pillar.” She started to move, but Mitch held on, causing her to trip again.
“How many martinis did you drink?” he asked.
She looked up at him, blinking her long lashes as if to bring him into focus. “I ordered two. But I barely sipped either of them. Why?”
“Because you’re a lightweight,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” She nodded sarcastically. “I just lost three pounds.”
He couldn’t stop a grin at her joke as he ushered her forward to where they could meet up with Cole. “Time for bed, princess.”
As they passed Jeffrey, the man shook his head, chuckling darkly at Mitch. “Assistant. Right.”
Mitch threw a surreptitious elbow into Jeffrey’s rib cage.
“I’m starving,” said Jenny from the third-row seat in the chauffeur-driven Escalade as they sped along the shore of Galveston Bay.
Mitch twisted his head to look at her. “That’s probably a good idea. A little food in your stomach along with the liquor.”
“Will you stop,” Jenny huffed. “I sipped on two teeny little martinis. I’m just hungry because it’s late. Look.” She pointed out the tinted window, turning her head as they cruised past the red neon sign. “Cara Mia Trattoria. And it’s open.”
Cole spoke up from the bucket seat next to Mitch’s in the middle row. “If she can read Italian, she can’t be that bad off.”
Jenny smacked the back of Cole’s bucket seat. “I’m perfectly sober, people.”
Cole grinned, while Emily gave a shrug. “I could eat.”
Mitch turned forward to address the driver. “Can you take us back to Cara Mia?”
“Of course, sir,” the uniformed man responded. He checked the rearview mirror, then pulled a U-turn in advance of an upcoming red light, taking up the right-hand lane, before signaling to pull up to Cara Mia’s front door.
As the SUV came to a smooth halt, Mitch handed the man a twenty-dollar tip.
“Thank you, sir. You have the service’s number?”
“I do,” Mitch confirmed, yawning the door open.
“We’re on duty for the team until three.”
Mitch nodded his thanks and stepped out of the vehicle. He turned to offer his hand to Emily, who’d been sitting behind him, but his gaze moved reflexively to Jenny’s flirty skirt as she exited from Cole’s side.
“They have a deck,” she announced as she rounded the back of the SUV. Wisps of hair had worked loose from her knot and curled enchantingly around her bright face. “Do you think we can sit out there?”
Mitch curled her arm around his own, steadying her across the cobblestone drive. “I’m sure they’ll let us sit wherever we want.”
She inhaled. “I love the ocean.”
Wind bent the palm leaves, and rolling waves sounded rhythmically in the distance.
“Fresh air’s probably good for you,” he observed while she disentangled her arm from his and stepped toward the restaurant stairs.
The hostess wove her way in front of them through the crowded tables on the restaurant’s deck. She showed them to a view table, overlooking lighted gardens, an expansive lawn and stone walkways that led down to a sandy beach. The tide was in, and the surf was up. Propane heaters warmed the air, and a floral centerpiece anchored the billowing white cloth on the round table.
Jenny plunked into a padded wicker chair and snagged a leather-bound menu.
A waiter filled their water glasses and offered cocktails, but they all opted for iced tea.
“Isn’t that gorgeous?” Jenny’s attention was distracted by the tiny pink lights decorating the flower gardens. In an instant, she was on her feet, crossing to the rail of the sundeck for a better look.
“Chicken marsala pizza?” suggested Cole. “With avocado and eggplant.”
Emily peered over her menu at him. “What is that? Like, nerd pizza?”
“Are you calling me a nerd?”
She smirked. “Just commenting on your taste in pizza.”
“Well, what do you suggest?”
“Sausage, ham, peppers, mushrooms, onions, pepperoni.”
“What are you, pledging a fraternity?”
“It’s a classic.”
“You want me to order a pitcher of draft to go with it?” asked Cole. “We could have a chugging contest.”
Emily stuck out her tongue at him.
Mitch chuckled low at the pair’s antics, glancing to check out Jenny at the rail of the deck.
She was gone.
He straightened in his chair, gaze darting from table to table. Had she gone to the ladies’ room?
He stood.
“What?” Emily asked.
“Where’s Jenny?”
Emily and Cole peered around the busy deck.
Mitch’s gaze snagged on her boots, discarded beneath her chair at the table. He instantly shifted his attention to the lighted gardens. There she was, halfway down the stone path, meandering her way toward the ocean.
“Got her.” He pointed, tossing his napkin onto the table. “I’ll be right back.”
He trotted down the stairs and strode his way through the quiet gardens toward the beach. The salt tang grew stronger, and the roar of the waves filled his ears as he caught up to Jenny.
“Going somewhere?” he asked as her feet hit the sand.
“Just breathing the night air,” she responded, and turned in a circle.
“Only two drinks?” he confirmed.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“I was afraid you’d decided to take a swim,” he admitted.
“It’ll take more than a few sips of a martini to get me into the ocean in September.” She plunked down on the soft sand.
Once again, he was struck by how different she seemed from the regular Jenny who masterminded his financial spreadsheets, deftly handled demanding club members and wrote concise, informative month-end reports. The transformation was more than a little disconcerting.
He eased down beside her, taking in her little skirt spread out in the sand. The shimmering top left most of her tanned back bare, while her breasts pressed teasingly against the thin fabric, nipples pebbled in the cool air.
“Interesting outfits you’ve been choosing lately,” he heard himself observe, dragging his gaze away from her sexiness.
“I needed a new look,” she told him, nodding out to sea. “If I want to snag a man.”
Something hitched in Mitch’s stomach. “You want to find a man?”
“Of course I want to find a man. All women want to find a man.” She turned back to him and pointed her index finger for emphasis. “And if they tell you they don’t, well… Well, maybe they don’t. But most of them do. And I do.”
Her eyes were round and soft in the glow from the gardens. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were pursed in a determined little moue that he wanted so badly to kiss. He gritted his teeth against the unruly urge, his stomach tightening.
“You had them lining up at the Moberly Club,” he pointed out. “You must have danced with Jeffrey five times.”
“Jeffrey’s nice,” she sighed.
Mitch felt his gut clench tighter. He needed to nip this Jeffrey fixation in the bud. “Jeffrey’s not a good guy for
