Chasing Serenity (River Rain 1)

“Anything is what you make of it,” I retorted.

“Well, what you’re gonna make of Judge in that getup is a mess. You’re my big sister and I half have the hots for you,” Gage declared.

I arched a brow. “Only half?”

He grinned at me. “Okay, five eighths.”

I allowed him a small curve of my lips as I shook my head and looked back in the mirror to try to decide if I should settle in with just the one delicate but dramatic gold, full-ear cuff that peeked out of the hair I’d left to hang loose (though I’d added curl) or if I should add more jewelry.

I was still doing this when there was a quick rap of knuckles on the door and then Bowie, keeping hold of the handle, swung his upper body in.

His eyes did a scan of me and widened before he muttered, “Shit.”

Well, that was a reaction.

“Judge is screwed,” he went on.

I blew out an exasperated breath.

I mean, as far as they knew, I’d had one singular confrontation with the man four months ago at Bowie’s store (no one knew about the coffeehouse scenario, because I told no one, not even Sasha, who I told almost everything, or Matt, who I told absolutely everything).

I was hardly pining for him (because I was so not interested, he was a cad).

And I knew men like Judge Oakley (Bowie had filled in his last name).

He didn’t go without for long.

He was probably coming with a date.

And no.

My heart did not just prick at that thought.

Absolutely not.

Really, it didn’t.

(Drat it, it did.)

Bowie’s lips twitched then he took in the rest of the occupants in the room.

“People are showing,” he announced.

“Cool, Dad,” Gage said, but didn’t move.

“Harvey and Beth showed ten minutes ago,” Bowie continued.

“Right, forgot to tell you guys when I got up here,” Sully shared, he then needlessly rectified that. “Harv and Beth are here.”

Bowie let out a beleaguered sigh before he concluded, “And right now, they’re down there, facing the onslaught, when no one used to show on time, but now everyone is showing on time. And they’re doing it pissed at me because I banned phones and they all wanted to ask Genny for a selfie that they could put on Instagram. Now, does anyone in here want to help me, Matt, Harvey and Beth run interference with the seventy people that are right now strolling through the front door making a beeline to Genny? Or do you all wanna party up here and leave her to the wolves?”

“On it!” Gage decreed, rolling off the bed.

Sully pushed off immediately too.

And of course they did.

They were good guys.

Like Bowie.

The best.

Also, in a swish of sequins, a noise that I found one of the top five sounds of all time, not to mention with the grace of an athlete, Sasha dropped to a hip and swung her legs over the side of the bed, putting her feet decked in ropy gold high-heeled sandals on the floor.

I was wearing a pair of sleek, pointed-toe, death-defying-heeled, white leather mules.

It’d taken me three hours of combing through seventeen websites to find them.

But as was my wont when I had something I desired, I put the time needed into the endeavor, and I got it.

My shoes were, obviously…everything.

“Coming?” Sasha asked as she moved by me.

“Be right down,” I replied, reaching for my peachy-pink lip stain which was almost a neutral, but not quite because…understated with jewelry and makeup, the outfit packed an even bigger punch.

“Cannot wait to see this Judge guy,” she said as she and the boys moved to the door to follow Bowie out. “I’ve been to the store like…a bazillion times to try to catch a glimpse. He’s elusive.”

“I saw him a couple of days ago having breakfast at Zeke’s,” Sul said.

“Ohmigod, why didn’t you say?” Sasha cried.

Their voices were fading down the hall, and I was putting an unnecessary layer of stain on my lips, since I’d already applied the first one and it was called stain for a reason.

I was doing this allowing myself a moment to feel the fact that the truth of it was…

I did not want to go down there.

No matter what I said, I did not want to see Judge.

Why?

Especially when I was looking this fabulous?

Because I’d let him in.

I’d shared things with him I wasn’t even admitting to myself.

In fact, when I’d shared these things, I couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth, because I hadn’t allowed myself to consciously think of them.

The double why…

As in, why did I do this?

I did it because he was handsome, and he was funny, and he was flirty, and he didn’t take any of my shit.

I did it also because he had warm brown eyes I could stare into for days and an easy smile that made me feel that ease, down deep, a place he shouldn’t be when I barely knew him.