All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)

by Natasha Boyd

  “Please. You’re naive if you don’t think you’ve conditioned yourself by what you watch and read to attach every gooey emotion possible to sex. I’m just warning you before life gives you a healthy dose of reality.”

  “God, you talk shit. I plan on having lots of lovers in my life. Handsome, mysterious men from exotic places who don’t expect me to be chained to the kitchen sink and who I will happily move on from.”

  “And you won’t fall in love with any of them and want to get married?”

  “Nope.” I shrugged. “That would impede my career plans.”

  Joey snorted, then wheezed. “Right.”

  I wanted to shove the dishtowel he was holding down his damn throat.

  “Right, what?” I snapped.

  “Right, I believe you,” he added with barely concealed sarcasm. His eyebrows raised.

  “It’s true. I don’t see what the big emotional deal is with sex anyway.”

  “Because you’ve had so much of it?”

  I glanced away. That was way more information than he needed.

  “So the almost eighteen year old virgin is going to try and tell me she understands what sex without emotion is like?”

  “Not for much longer,” I said with a haughty tone, irritated he just assumed I was a virgin, and clasped my hands in front of me on the table. “I plan on getting rid of that status as soon as possible.”

  Joey yanked his chair back out and sat down opposite me, his glare intense, the blue of his eyes darkened to grey.

  I pulled back at his abrupt move and his hand reached out and snared mine, pinning it to the table. “What?” I managed after a few beats of uncomfortable silence where my hand was burned alive.

  Conflicting thoughts seemed to flit over his face for what seemed like long minutes instead of the few seconds it probably was. Then he let out a long breath.

  “You’re playing a very dangerous game, putting so little importance on sex.”

  I scowled. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means …” He swallowed. “You should respect yourself enough not to give it away to just anybody.”

  My face throbbed with heat as my temper rose. “I respect myself just fine. Big brother,” I hissed.

  “Good,” he growled. “Because if you don’t, nobody else will.”

  I yanked my hand from his. “I don’t understand you. So you’re allowed to have meaningless sex, but I’m not? Again with your double standards, Joseph. It’s unbecoming, you should watch that.”

  He shrugged. “You said it. You’re like a little sister to me. I care that you don’t get hurt. And for God’s sake don’t be roping Keri Ann into your stupid quest. I’m just warning you to be careful.”

  “Of what exactly?” I said through my clenched teeth. Because seriously, I was completely angry and humiliated by this stupid argument.

  “You don’t even know yourself, do you?” He laughed, his strong jaw tilting back to reveal his tanned throat. “You, Jazzy Bear,” he rested his blue eyes back on me, “will fall madly in love with the first boy you sleep with.”

  “I will not. And for the love of cheese grits, please don’t call me Jazzy Bear again.”

  “You will. It’s written all over you. And,” he sobered as he looked at me unflinchingly, “he will break your heart. I’m sorry. In advance.”

  I scraped back my chair with a loud whine and slapped my hand down on the table.

  He watched me with a bemused expression, a lock of dark blond hair falling across his forehead.

  “I’m going to find the perfect candidate,” I said in a low voice. “And the sex will be amazing.” I pointed a finger at him as I spoke. “And then, just to prove you wrong, I’ll go find someone else to have delicious sex with again. And again. And again. All summer long. In fact … I think the problem will be all the boys with broken hearts I leave in my dust.”

  Joey’s eyes narrowed, then dropped to my pointing finger before flicking back up to mine, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Be careful,” he drawled, wrapping a hand round my finger and pushing my hand down to the table. “You might be labeled a slut. Don’t forget all those double standards. Besides, I’m not sure I’ll be giving your sex life much thought. But good luck with that.”

  “You certainly seem to have a lot of opinions on it right now,” I retorted, stung by his tone.

  He looked thoughtful, then shook his head. A silly smirk overtook his mouth as if to remind us both we were being far too serious. And weird. This was weird. “A mistake I won’t be repeating any time soon.” He laughed and stood, stretching nonchalantly, his shirt pulling across his chest. “Although …”

  “What?” I frowned.

  “I’ll have to exercise my big brother duties and make sure you don’t end up with some chump.”

  “I really don’t need you giving me your opinion on my choices, Joseph.”

  He let out a puff of amused laughter, then his face straightened. “And don’t forget that favor you agreed to. As long as it doesn’t interfere with that, then whatever. But, seriously, Jazz. Don’t give it away to someone who won’t appreciate what you’re giving him.”

  I blinked and looked away. God, why did he have to complicate everything? Was I supposed to have sex with emotion or without? Feel too much for the person and I might be in danger of falling in love with him? Not that I agreed with Joey’s assessment. But if I didn’t feel anything for the person, why would I do it?

  Right.

  To get it out of the way.

  And that’s why I would lose my virginity with a tourist. Someone I was attracted to, but who would leave before I even had a chance to feel clingy and needy.

  It was perfect. An in-built ejection seat out of any potential plane crash of feelings.

  I knew there was another positive to living in a resort town.

  Mission V-card had to be moved up the priority list as soon as possible. Tomorrow after school I would check in with the boutique, and I’d go and see about the lifeguard position, adding a third job to my already busy schedule. What better way to meet tourists than on the beach? “Joey, can you text me Lisa’s number so I can see if there’s a spot for me on beach patrol this year?” I was going to need to do urgent mouth-to-mouth on some hot tourists.

  THE NEXT WEEK flew by and it was Saturday morning again before I knew it. The closer we got to summer the earlier I had to get out to the boat before it got too stifling. I lay back on the narrow berth in the musty interior of All That Jazz, some Ella Fitzgerald crooning softly on the turntable that was balanced on the galley table.

  I aced the practice tests early in the week and felt confident about the state tests starting the following Monday. Faith, the boutique owner was amazing. She was completely understanding about my finishing up high school, and I would be starting with some occasional afternoon hours until school was out, which allowed me to learn the ropes slowly.

  Lisa, who ran beach patrol for the island, got me a spot in the evening training the following week. It was under the wire, as they were full, but she said she always liked to have back up and needed everyone trained and working in time for Memorial Day weekend. I still needed my certifications in lifeguarding, CPR, First Aid, and oxygen administration. I pulled up my text from Joey when he’d sent me Lisa’s number.

  Me: Hey, it’s Jazz. I need to get CPR training etc. Where should I do that?

  JB: You need help with mouth to mouth? That’s a bit forward isn’t it?

  My stomach flipped over. Frowning, I hesitated for a moment before tapping out a sharp rebuttal, then grinned.

  Me: Not if you’re offering. No offense.

  JB: Offense utterly taken. Anyway, you’d have to be the last girl on earth etc …

  Me: Wow, I really did bruise your ego, huh?

  JB: No chance. It’s made of titanium.

  Wasn’t that the truth? I pursed my lips to bite my smile away and got back to the topic at hand.

  Me: Ok, Jay Bird, where do I go????r />
  JB: Thought Lisa would have given you info on that. Jay Bird?

  Me: She did, but there were options: Savannah, HH, Beaufort etc. thought you’d be able to steer me in right direction. And you called me Jazzy Bear (only my dad is allowed to call me that), only fair you should have a name too.

  JB: Jay Bird. I like it.

  Me: Don’t. Blue Jays are assholes.

  JB: OMG. Jazzy Bear. You are something else.

  Me: Yep. So anyway??? *Tapping foot*

  JB: HHI. I’m headed there later. You need a ride?

  Damn. I hated that I was just mean to him, no matter I was joking, and now he was doing me a good turn by offering to drive me over to Hilton Head island. Way to make me feel like the asshole.

  Me: I can’t. Have resort housekeeping from 9 til 3. It’s “changeover day” — And haven’t even looked at times for certification.

  He didn’t respond right away, and I went into the contacts of my phone and changed JB to Jay Bird, making his name official.

  Jay Bird: Okay. Just went online. There’s a class running at the Beaufort YMCA on Sunday afternoon. Can you do that one? I’ll take you, but you have to preregister. It’s $200.

  Damn. I’d have to take that money out of my car savings fund. But lifeguarding could earn me $300-500 a week. It was worth the investment. I’d have a car by the end of the summer hopefully. I needed one before classes started at USC Beaufort.

  Me: Why are you being so helpful?

  Jay Bird: I have nothing else to do.

  Me: Well thx, you don’t have to do that.

  Jay Bird: How else will you get there? Bike?

  Me: Funny. Did you not get an internship/job yet?

  Jay Bird: Not for lack of trying. That’s why I’m over in HH tomorrow. A cardiac surgeon.

  Me: Which one?

  Jay Bird: Dr. Martin Barrett.

  Me: My mom works for him! I’m on it.

  Jay Bird: Shit. Seriously?

  Me: Yep. Let me call my mom right now.

  Jay Bird: The favors you’re doing me this summer are tipping the balance. I almost feel bad, but not sure I’m capable of that emotion.

  I snorted, grinning in spite of myself.

  Me: I know. Job not a sure thing tho. Don’t worry I’ll call in the favors at some point. Like a ride to training for starters …

  Jay Bird: That’s hardly adequate repayment. But if you’re sure …

  I could almost see his sly look.

  Me: Not so fast. You don’t have the job yet, but *WHEN* you do, I’ll let you know what I require.

  I quite liked that Joey might owe me something. I’d have to judiciously call it in. The possibilities were endless. I chuckled to myself.

  Jay Bird: Okay, let me know, Jazzy Bear. P.S. You are now Jazzy Bear in my contacts.

  Jazzy Bear: Will do, Jay Bird.

  I swallowed the strange bubble crawling up from my chest, not quite sure what to do with it, and dialed my mom’s cell.

  “Jessica, honey? Is everything okay?” My mom answered her phone in a no nonsense tone.

  “I’m good, Ma.” I smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out by calling.”

  She let out a light laugh. “No, No, it’s okay. I’m just headed in to work at the store, and I didn’t see you this morning.”

  “I went out for a kayak. Gotta enjoy the cool part of the day, you know?”

  “Are you at the boat?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, I am.”

  In response, she sighed too. I knew it bothered her I spent so much time out here. “Jess—”

  “I know, Ma. Look, I need to ask you something. You know Nana’s been frail.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “Okay, I think. But really I think she could probably stand to see Dr. Barrett.”

  “She is already. I saw her on the schedule for July. Do you need me to squeeze her in earlier?”

  “That would be great. Will you call her and tell her?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks. That’s not the only thing I’m calling about though. With Nana worrying everyone, Joey came home for the summer and let his internship up in Columbia go. He’s coming in to the hospital today to meet Dr. Barrett after his rounds. Do you think …? I know you can’t give him a job. But do you think you could put in a good word for him with Dr. Barrett?”

  “Oh, Jessica. Martin Barrett’s done so much for me already. I’m not sure I—”

  “Please, Ma. The Butlers have done so much for me too. Can you just ask? Just say something to help Joey?”

  “Of course. I know The Butlers have been amazing to you. To us.” She let out a breath. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call him now and see if I can catch him between rounds. I’m not promising anything you know.”

  I made a fist and punched the air. “I know.”

  “And I can’t push it.”

  “I know, Ma. Thank you.”

  “Okay, Jess. Just get off that damned boat. It makes my happy baby depressed.”

  “I will. I’m headed in to work myself.”

  “What properties do you have today?” she asked.

  “Some of the big ones down on Magnolia Road.”

  “Okay, well be careful. Don’t touch anything without your gloves on.”

  I winced. “You know I won’t.” If my mom only knew the gross stuff I’d seen cleaning out houses after tourists. I’d take dirty diapers and spilled food any day. It was used condoms under beds and drug needles in the couch cushions that were the top of my Rare-But-I’m-Not-Sure-How-Much-Longer-I-Can-Do-This list. But one day of cleaning the big beach front rentals on “changeover day” could earn me about $300 dollars. I needed a car and money for gas and insurance. I was probably only going to be able to keep one job when I was at college, so the more I earned this summer the better.

  “Okay. Bye, baby.”

  “Bye, Ma,” I said fondly and ended the call.

  Jazzy Bear: Ok. Good luck, Jay Bird. My mom’s calling him now.

  Jay Bird: Thank you. I’ll let you know how it goes. I owe you.

  Jazzy Bear: I won’t forget ;-)

  I LOVED THAT my work colleague, Tamsyn, always suggested splitting up our load. It was easier to work faster when I could be alone and just put my earbuds in and listen to music full blast. Today was no exception. If the house was five or more bedrooms, we had to clean it together, but most of our current list were threes and fours.

  I took the four bedroom ocean front. I dropped the mound of laundry from the first three bedrooms in the upstairs hall and entered the last bedroom, stopping suddenly in the doorway as I realized clothes still hung over the back of a chair by the window. Shorts. And in the open armoire. A dress shirt. Blue. And running shoes were kicked off to the side. It wasn’t unusual to have people leave stuff. The Wombats sang their Brit Pop loudly through my earbuds as I contemplated the scene before me.

  A sharp tap landed on my shoulder and I leapt off the ground, my heart staying up lodged in my throat in shock. “Shit!” screeched out of my mouth before I could stop it. I whipped around with a loud yelp to be confronted with a half naked looming male and stumbled back a step, yanking my ear buds out of my ears.

  “Hey,” the guy said, wincing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I called out, but I guess,” he motioned to an ear, “you had your music on fairly loud.”

  He had brown floppy hair and light eyes, and his mouth eased into a faint smile. My eyes did a quick inventory for concealed weapons but was distracted by his athletic and naked upper body, I never got as far as his navy blue swim shorts. And not looking for concealed weapons in his shorts felt like a supreme act of human will. Wow, he was cute. Or I was in a heightened state of response having just had a thousand mini heart attacks in the span of three seconds.

  “I’m Chase. We’re here for three weeks sooooo …”

  I swallowed and shook my head to clear my shock and my dismay at realizing we’d entered a house that was occupied. �
��Oh wow, sorry. I didn’t, um, uh, I’m not sure if my papers said that.” I’d left them downstairs with my cleaning bag.

  “No, it’s okay. We requested cleaning service while we were here because my family’s coming this week. Today, actually.” He dipped his head and pulled on a tuft of soft hair. “It was just me and my buddies last week.”

  “Oh, right. So do you need me to change your room, or …”

  “If that’s okay? I was just coming up to grab something.”

  He looked at me expectantly. I stared back. What?

  “Uh, I need to get past you?”

  I startled. “Right. Sorry.” I scrambled to the side and out of the doorway.

  He chuckled, his grin deepening. Hottie alert. Gah!

  “What were you listening to?” he asked, nodding at the earbuds I was holding before grabbing the book that was on the bedside table of his unmade messy queen bed. I couldn’t see the title. And anyway, his tanned shoulder blades were too distracting to worry about what he was holding in his hands.

  He turned back around, an eyebrow raised.

  “What?” Oh my God. Where was my brain? “Oh, um. The Wombats. They’re—”

  “A British band. I know.” His brow furrowed even as his mouth showed he was amused, and he shook his head. “Terrible name. Great music.”

  I nodded, agreeing completely.

  “Okay, well,” he waved his book absently, “I’ll just get out of your way. Sorry for scaring you.”

  “Fine. That’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine. But I’m fine. No harm done.” Stop talking! “What are you reading?” I imagined an out of body experience where I walked over to the wall and hit my head against it repeatedly.