Good Girl (Love Unexpectedly 2)

“You have a sister?”

I nod. “Kelly. She’s only nineteen, but she’ll graduate from Georgia Tech next year. She skipped a bunch of grades.”

“You don’t seem bothered by it.”

I shrug. “Why would I be? I’m proud of her. And her of me. I mean, I’m not going to say that we’re not totally different, and yeah, sometimes we struggle to find common ground when we talk. But I have no issue calling her the smart one.”

“Does that make you the pretty one?”

I wrinkle my nose at him. “Did you just call me pretty?”

He doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “You know you are, princess.”

“Jenny Dawson the country music star is pretty, I guess. By the time they add my hair extensions and eyelash extensions and fourteen layers of makeup, I look the part of country pop princess. I get that. But when it’s just me, the real Jenny Dawson, I don’t know. Cute at best.”

“And who is the real Jenny Dawson?”

I glance down at my wine. “Will you laugh at me if I say I’m just a small-town girl?”

“Only if you tell me you’re livin’ in a lonely world.”

I laugh. “Noah Maxwell, I do believe there’s a bit of humor under there beneath all that crust.”

“Crust?”

I wave a hand over him. “You know. The scowl. The dickhead comments. The glares.”

“Aren’t scowls and glares the same thing?”

“Don’t dodge the question. Seriously, what’s your story?”

It’s his turn to look down at his wine. “Just a city boy…born and raised in South Detroit.”

I laugh again, wishing I had something to throw at him. “You were not.”

He smiles slightly. “Nope. I’ve told you before, I’m from Baton Rouge. Just outside it, actually.”

I motion for him to continue. “More, please. Keep it coming.”

He rolls his eyes but surprises me by answering. “Village St. George.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It is. And it’s not. Depends which side you’re from.”

“And which side are you from?” I ask gently.

He spreads his arms to the side and glances down. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Yes, but you swirl and sniff your wine.

“Siblings?”

He sucks in his cheeks as though the answer is complicated. “A brother. Died before I met him.”

I blink. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

I try to figure out how that would work, to have a sibling and never have met them. Older brother who died in infancy, perhaps? Before Noah was born?