Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)
“I can’t swim.”
It’s a lie. It’s a bold-faced lie. Vince knows I can swim, and as soon as it spills out of my mouth, he loses any trace of humor. His dark eyes land on me, conveying his annoyance. “Yes, you can.”
I want to argue. I want to say I forgot. I want to add lies and make it worse.
“Oh, well, you could still hang out in the grotto,” Jessica tells me, but she looks confused. “I mean, whether you can swim or not, you could… hang out in there.”
“Mia can swim.” He cuts me a pointed look, reminding me without words what he said about me lying. I thought he meant about Mateo stuff, not in general.
Jessica gives up trying to recover this conversation and turns back to her food. Then, a moment later, she changes the subject and addresses Ben and Vince, getting more stony silence from Ben, and mildly tolerating nods from Vince.
As much as she annoys me, I’m actually tempted to feel bad for this girl. If this is what dinners were like before I came, I do not envy her.
Chapter Fourteen
Vince
Jessica is awesome.
I didn’t plan on using her attraction to me for my own gain because that’s a dick move, but seeing how pissed off Mia has been since Jessica walked in the door ? I’ll be a dick.
Two things you need to know about Jessica: yes, all that enthusiasm is real, and she uses flattery like it’s currency.
Mia doesn’t know this about her yet. She doesn’t know Jessica will probably be flirting with her before long—that’s just Jessica’s way. She only knows Jessica is flirting with me. Flirting hard and openly—and all night long, because once I realized how much it was annoying Mia, I made sure to drag the night out.
“He should be in, like, magazines, right?” Jessica gushes to Mia, when I come out of the water and run my fingers back over my head to sop out some of the water.
Mia’s lip curls up in disgust and she glares at Jessica like she’s just kicked a toddler and reaches toward the edge of the pool for the margarita she left there.
Jessica either doesn’t notice Mia’s reaction to her or doesn’t care. It’s probably the latter. Jessica looks like she does and acts the way she does, so she is no stranger to women not liking her. It won’t make a difference. She’s going to keep being as bubbly as ever and making Mia want to drown her.
It’s awesome.
Frankly, the fact that Mia isn’t this possessive with Mateo, but she is with me, gives me hope.
Though, considering Jessica around Mateo for even a few minutes ends with Jessica being brutally murdered in my head—and it’s probably Meg doing the murdering, but hey, it could be Mia. Mateo would never have long enough with Jessica to get murdery himself.
Turning my thoughts from Mateo, since that bastard doesn’t deserve to pollute this great moment, I look over at Mia. She’s still sulking. So I swim over to her and take the drink out of her hand, taking her by the hand and tugging her back toward us.
“Come on, have fun.”
She’s close enough and we’re far enough from Jessica that she can mutter half-jokingly, “Why don’t you ask your girlfriend to come have fun.”
“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
She rolls her eyes at the size of my grin, then swims over to Jessica even though I know it’s gotta kill her.
Jessica bounces, because Jessica looks very good bouncing. “Yay! Let’s play Marco polo.”
Mia looks like she’d rather die, but she goes along with it anyway.
I join in. Jessica catches me, that way she can tackle me and plaster her wet body all over me. I mean, this is never the worst part of the game, if I’m being honest, but it pisses Mia off enough that she gives up and climbs out of the pool. I watch her adjust the scant fabric to cover her ass, a big smile on my face.
“Aw, come on. You done playing already?” I call out.
“I am done playing,” she informs me, bending to pick up her drink. She brings it to her perfect lips as she approaches the lounger to grab a towel.
The wind’s kind of chilly, so she’s probably cold now that’s not in the heated pool. I sort of want to follow her and take care of her—take her upstairs and get her into something warm. I’d much rather get in bed with her than stay down here with Jessica.
“Don’t,” Jessica says, lowly.
I glance over at her, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Stay here. Play with me. Let her pout.” Her voice is at a more normal decibel now, not the bouncy sorority girl tone she usually talks in. Floating closer, she drapes an arm around my neck and smiles, pulling herself against my body. “If you go running to her rescue now, she’s going to keep being a little bitch to you.”