24. Jones
24
JONES
Holy shit.
I didn’t know she could sing like that. Add it to the list of all the things I still have to learn about Capri Meadows.
Fuck. What’s her middle name?
I’m standing off the edge of the stage, watching as Capri makes her way down the side steps. She jumps into my arms, and I twirl her in circles.
“It never gets old!” she shrieks, coming off a high from killing “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac.
“Holy hell, woman. Never knew you could sing like that. You were incredible,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her.
Her smile is so fucking bright. She looks even more endearing with happiness plastered across her pretty face. “Ah.” She waves me off. “Just another secret I keep hidden in my pocket.”
I pull her close again. “Well, I’m a big fan.”
Maybe even her biggest.
She pulls back and looks me in the eyes. “Your turn. So, what’s it gonna be, Captain? Blink-182? Or you going with the old-school country twang?”
I do a little shimmy in my jeans, motioning for her to prepare her eyes. “Buckle up, sweetheart. You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
I head toward the DJ and put in my request before situating myself on stage.
Tonight, I’m feeling petty.
As petty as any thirty-nine-year-old man can be. I catch Capri’s eye in the crowd and blow her a kiss.
Then I grab the mic and dedicate my performance to the prick in the audience who decided touching my girl was a good idea. “This one’s for you, Noah.”
I barely catch the gasp from Capri’s lips before I start singing.
She can punish me for it later.
* * *
“Did you see his face?” Capri exclaims mid-laugh.
I smile. “Watched it the whole time.”
I’m walking on cloud nine.
After witnessing Capri let loose tonight and have one too many beers, I insisted on giving her a ride home. Collie ended up leaving with some guy she knew from college, and there was no way in hell I’d let her leave with Noah.
She’s sitting shotgun in my truck, rambling on about tonight while I sit back and soak in this carefree side of her.
Her once neatly styled messy bun is now untamed, and her skin is slick from sweat. She looks comfortable next to me, her body turned in as she talks me through the excitement of tonight, as if I wasn’t there enjoying it with her.
I’ll let her tell me everything from start to finish if it means she keeps talking.
“When you legit started stomping your boots, I about died!”
Not my best moment, but singing “These Boots are Made for Walkin” by Nancy Sinatra was a class act. It was my low-key threat to Noah to keep his fucking hands to himself.
“He had it coming for him,” I reply, feeling a rush of frustration come over me again.
“Jones, I had just told him to stop pissing on me. Then, you turn around and do it loudly in front of the whole bar.” She laughs hysterically.
I hope she doesn’t wake up in the morning and hate me for it.
I’ll risk it.
“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” I reach for her hand and run my fingers across her smooth skin. I can’t stop myself from touching her. It’s a good thing I’m driving, or I probably would have kissed her by now.
“Maybe a little.” She smiles wide, glancing down at my hand on hers, and my chest feels fucking tight.
I had fun tonight for the first time in…shit, longer than I can remember.
I do nothing but work and sail in Capri. When I’m back home, I stay at Paloma with my mother all day, then go back to my rental and sleep the night away.
This is the first time I’ve come back to Timber Heights with someone to spend my time with.
Although there’s much more I can imagine Capri and I doing together, this kind of time with her feels good. I wouldn’t trade it for a short night inside of her.
Wild enough as that is to say.
“Oh! I turned on my TV!”
I chuckle, and a feeling of pride washes over me. “Wow. Making big life steps, sweetheart.”
“You should come over next weekend and we can binge-watch something!” Her energy is palpable right now. She will for sure be crashing once she gets home. And hopefully, not regretting my invite.
Fat chance I’d let her take it back.
I smile. “What are you watching?”
“Oh, nothing. I thought you could pick. I only got as far as turning it on, not actually watching anything yet.” Capri giggles to herself. “Figured when I do, it should be with you.”
Why does that mean everything to me?
“I would love to come over and indulge with you, Capri. I’ll bring the snacks.”
“Indulge?” She throws her head back, losing herself in a fit of laughter. I bet she thinks I’m talking about something sexual as an indulgence. But I’m not. Nothing sounds more indulgent than having a lazy day with a woman as beautiful as Capri and being the only one in the room to have her full attention. “I’ll supply the alcohol. Nothing like some trash TV, good snacks, and strong drinks with your friend,” she reminds.
Something tells me she needs the reminder more than I do.
The snacking and watching I can handle. But both of us drinking…alone in her apartment together.
Fucking hell. I might as well wear a hazmat suit if I stand any chance of keeping my hands to myself.
“Sounds perfect.”