Page 14 of The Summer Ultimatum

“Stupid Jax challenged me to dress in something casual. I at least got him to clarify beach casual, but now I’m left wondering exactly what the hell that means.”

Don’t think I don’t notice the way her lips tip at the edges, and she’s fighting a smile. But thankfully, she thinks better of it and schools her features. I’m in no mood to be made fun of.

“Who is thisstupid Jaxyou speak of?”

“I don’t have time for this,” I mutter. “He’ll be here in less than an hour.”

“I’ve got twenty minutes before I’m meeting up with Dan, a guy I met earlier today at work. We’re meeting at the Thai restaurant downtown. I’ll give ten minutes to solving this crisis of yours. I’m the queen of casual, as you well know. I’m sure I can help.”

“Casual hookupsare more like it,” I mutter. She knows I’m not throwing shade. I love her to pieces. In fact, I wish I could be more like Raven sometimes.

She’s someone who goes with the flow and doesn’t over-analyze things to death. I swear we came out of the same womb, and we may look exactly alike, but we couldn’t be more different. She’s wild and carefree; I’m uptight and according to my sisters when they want to get under my skin—rigid. I can’t help it if I’m a planner.

“Jax made a point to challenge me in dressing casual—as if he doesn’t think I can do it. Can you believe that?”

“Ha, I like this guy already. Tell me more.” My sister picks up an emerald-green V-neck tee and demands, “Try this. It will make your eyes pop.”

“Anyway, he’s a musician. I met him at open mic night. He’s really good. I think you’d like him. He plays just about everything, though I like his own music best. He’s got this vibe that makes crowds go wild.”

“Hmmm….” My sister’s got more to say, I can tell from that tone alone, but instead of speaking her mind, she shoves my favorite pair of jeans into my hands. They fit me like they were tailor-made yet are stretchy enough so I can do just about anything in them.

Slipping both items on, I stand in front of my full-length mirror.

Not bad. Looking at my bare feet, I ask, “Shoes?”

“Will you be on the beach or somewhere in town?”

My voice raises three octaves. “Like I’d know. The rat-bastard didn’t tell me anything—but casual.”

Giving me a knowing smirk, she raises a brow. “So now he’s a rat-bastard?”

“He’s only a rat-bastard because he’s made it his mission for some reason to make me unplug. He thinks I work too much and need a break.”

“Hmmm… The nerve of him… yet you still agreed to go out with him.”

“It’s not like that… we’re just friends,” I quickly protest. I truly don’t want her to get the wrong idea. “I’ve only been hanging out with him because I’m certain he’s just what we’re looking for in terms of finding local talent for the festival.”

I ignore her blatant glance at the pile of clothes on my bed. “Okay, Sloane. You let me know how that goes.”

I should know better than to lie to her, but hell… I don’t even know what to make of Jax Cartwright. I mean… sure, he’s kind, smart, and sexy as sin, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything going on between us. He’s also a bossy know-it-all, who thinks he’s got me pegged.

I must be lost in my head too long for Raven; the next thing I know, Raven’s about to exit my room but stops to glance over her shoulder and say, “Look, Sloane… Go… have fun… and do all the things I would do…”

With that, she leaves me here with my jaw hanging to the floor.

I know exactly what my sister would do—and I’m not sure I’m ready forthatmuch fun.

At exactly six, I walk up the steps to Sloane’s house. I’ve parked on the street, and I’ve timed it so I wouldn’t be too early or one minute late. Knowing she’ll still consider this tardy, I’m hoping she’ll give me a pass as I wanted to give her as much time as she needs to be ready.

After two raps on the door, it swings open, and my breath catches in my throat as I take Sloane in. Standing there in an emerald-green V-neck tee that shows just a peek of cleavage has me semi-hard in an instant. It’s not indecent by any means, but it shows off the curves she’s been hiding under those flowy blouses she wears.

My eyes trail down her curves past her shirt tucked into well-fitting jeans.

Before I have a chance to think about saying anything, she puts up a finger and says, “Hey… give me a sec to grab my purse.” With that, she turns, and the view just keeps getting better.

Her tight, round ass sways rhythmically over to where a small bag sits on a table. I swear, those jeans were made for her, and only her. They fit better than a second skin and accentuate her every curve perfectly.

When she returns, a smile plays across her face. "See… no computer… no work, just my phone and wallet. This good enough for you?”

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