I peek out the window again. This time—bingo!
Jaxi stands in front of Libby’s house and looks down at her phone. A pair of jeans hug her lower half and, on top, a lime green jacket feels like a beacon.
Signal received.
“Riss, I gotta go. I’ll call Hollis later,” I say, heading for the front door.
“Tell her I said hi,” she says with a laugh.
“Will do. Later.”
“Bye, Boonie.”
The blast of morning chill hits me hard. I shiver as I traverse the stairs down my porch. I pretend I’m heading to my car and act surprised to see her.
“Well, good morning,” I tell her.
Her head whips to mine. A slow smile spreads across her cheeks.
“Good morning,” she says. “Did you get the spaghetti I left for you?”
She turns to face me as I make my way toward her.
Birds sing overhead, and the grass is wet from the morning dew. Sunshine streams through the oak branches stretched out above us as I reach Jaxi.
“I did,” I tell her. “It was delicious.”
She smiles.
“I’m sorry for having to leave like that. My brothers never need me so I was a little freaked out about his insistence that I help him.”
I stop in front of her and take in the sweet scent of raspberries.
Her hair is piled on top of her head; her skin is fresh and clean. There’s something very straightforward about her—something real and pure—that is magnetic.
“It’s okay,” she says, her freckles shining in the light. “Libby ended up calling me and ….”
She bites her lip. She seems to be pondering something, and I wish I knew what it was. I wonder if she’s replaying a chat between her and her cousin or if she’s talking herself in, or out, of telling me something.
Finally, her shoulders fall.
“What’s going on?”
Jaxi levels her gaze with mine. In it, I can see a concern that prickles something deep inside me.
“So,” she begins, “Libby called me last night. She and Ted are getting a divorce.”
My jaw drops to the ground. “Are you fucking serious?”
My head spins at the news.
“Yeah,” she says. “Libby was pretty upset. I just got off the phone with her again, and she’s heading to her mom’s in Vegas. Ted invited her to San Diego so he could tell her in person. The asshole.”
“Wow. Okay.” Who would divorce Libby? She’s awesome. “Did she say why? It’s none of my business but I’m curious.”
Her eyes narrow briefly. “Ted was having an affair with a woman named Kimmy.”
Kimmy Curtis. Dark hair. Red lips. Mows her lawn in a bikini.
With Ted?
I shake my head to try to focus. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Actually, yes. Can you take a couple of things from the house and save them for Lib? Ted is coming back today and she wants to make sure nothing happens to them.”
“Of course.” I glance up at the house. “Want me to get them now?”
Her lips twist. “Yeah. If you can. I need to get out of here too before Ted gets back because I might kill him.”
I have no idea how I’ll be nice to Ted from this point forward. Sure, his marriage has nothing to do with me, but it is a solid indication that he’s a fuck.
“Do you know anything about the Park Inn?” she asks. “Is it clean enough? It looks pretty close to the airport and has restaurants close by.”
“The Park Inn down on West Chester Street?”
She furrows her brow. “I think so. I just looked it up online this morning.”
I open my mouth to tell her she could stay with me but close it before I do. There’s a look in her eye that stops me in my tracks.
She didn’t like taking Leo’s help for free. Odds are she won’t like my offer to stay with me either—even if I mean it to help her out and not to try to get laid.
Although I wouldn’t be against that either.
“I think that’s a decent place,” I say, racking my brain for the Park Inn. “It’s in a good part of town.”
She nods. “That’s what it looked like. I’m going to call and see if I can get a room until I fly out next weekend.”
“Want me to start getting Libby’s stuff out of the house?” I ask.
Before I can answer, her phone rings in her hand. She looks down.
“If this is about my extended warranty, I’m going to lose it,” she says as she brings the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
Her lips purse together, and I wonder if there’s a person in the world who can take her seriously when she’s angry. I almost prefer this look over the amused one she usually gives me. It’s so animated, and the shadows on her face make her so damn attractive. It’s a definite conundrum.
“This is Jacqueline,” she says, looking at me.
Jacqueline? Noted.
“I can but … what’s this about?” she asks. “Yes, I’m in Savannah.”