Page 39 of Tempt Me

She narrowed her eyes. “You passed on the bacon at brunch, but I didn’t think it was a forever thing.”

My cheeks heated again. Of course she didn’t think I’d stick with it. I never stuck with anything.

“How long have you been a vegetarian?” Jevin asked.

“Since my butchery class in culinary school. I had to drop out.”

“Ah. That’d do it,” J.J. said. “I went off meat for a while after my gross anatomy lab.”

“Your…what?” I asked. In his stretched-tight polo shirt, J.J. looked more like a pro athlete than a brainiac who took anatomy.

“We dissected cadavers in med school.”

“Med school? You guys aren’t defensive linemen?”

J.J. chuckled. “You think Mila got all the brains in the family? Sure, we played in college, but I’m an oncologist, and Jevin is an attorney.”

“Here,” Jamila said, removing a dollop of creamy potato salad before depositing the boat on my tray. “You still eat dairy, right?”

“Sure.” Fried okra, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese landed on my tray. “Wait. There’s no way I can eat all this.”

“Eat what you want. My brother and I can pack away anything you don’t.” Jevin patted his flat belly.

I sampled each dish. They were all amazing. I had to hand the mac and cheese back to Jevin or I’d have eaten the entire carbolicious mountain of calories.

At some point, Jamila brought me a second cup of ranch water and switched seats with J.J. to sit next to me. Between the funny stories, inside jokes, the sunshine on my back, and the warm smell of barbecue spice in the air, everything took on a rose-colored quality.

Maybe it was the sun melting into the horizon that colored everything pink. Maybe it was the tequila. Or maybe it was Jamila’s hand, planted on the bench between us, her pinky finger pointed toward me. All I had to do was extend my pinky to touch hers.

I snuck a glance at her. She was listening to a story Jevin was telling about his client, whose divorce had been cut and dried until the wife refused to split up their two dogs. They’d had to hire a pet psychologist for an opinion on whether separating the dogs would result in pain and suffering to one or the other.

I didn’t care about the couple or their pets. All I cared about was the long column of her arm, gilded on the back by the setting sun. Her shoulders and triceps were slender but defined, and her skin looked like silk. The back of her hand glowed golden, and I imagined if I touched it, it’d feel like a river rock, smooth and warm.

It had to be the tequila that made me stretch out my pinky to stroke hers. It was just as satiny warm as I’d imagined. She didn’t twitch or even look down, but her smile broadened. I took that as a sign to curl my pinky around hers, the sides of our hands nestled together. I was holding Jamila’s hand.

Kind of.

But it didn’t last long.

She tugged her hand from mine to stretch both arms over her head. Her T-shirt rode up, showing me a peek of her flat stomach that I wanted to kiss.

“Curfew’s at nine,” she said, “and camp starts early tomorrow.”

J.J. narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to pay your respects to Nana?”

That woke me from the happy haze I’d drifted into. This trip had peeled back Jamila’s layers for me. Austin was where she kept her brothers and memories of her Nana.

“Is that why you kidnapped us? You wanted to drag me to the cemetery?”

“You haven’t been since the funeral.” He shrugged. “I imagine you two have things to say to each other.”

“She’s dead, J.J. We can’t talk anymore. If we could, she’d probably yell at me. The week before she died, she left me a voice mail that near peeled the skin off my ear. Can’t imagine what she’d have to say now.”

“About your PR situation?” Jevin glanced at me.

“Yeah.” Jamila rolled her eyes to the cloudless sky. “She’s probably up there telling everyone what a fuck up I am.”

J.J. winced. “You know she loved you—”

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