All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)

by Natasha Boyd

  “Whatever,” he said instead. “Again, I’m sorry. And I probably shouldn’t have kissed you either.”

  “Probably not. Because it definitely showed me one thing.”

  “What’s that? And you’ve already mentioned my impressive size.” He smirked.

  I rolled my eyes. “It showed me that even though we drive each other bat shit crazy, you are really, and I mean really, attracted to me.”

  He pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed them over his chest. “Is that so.”

  “Yep,” I said and stubbed at the kickstand of my bike with my foot so I could leave. “And that, my dear Joseph, scares the absolute shit out of you.”

  I wheeled my bike home without looking back.

  THE DAYS LEADING up to my eighteenth birthday were a blur of activity. School, friends, work, lifeguard training. I didn’t see Chase, obviously, but I mentioned him as many times as I could when Joey was around because it was entertaining to watch him bristle. He really didn’t like the guy. It was amusing.

  I checked the mail every day. Woody tutted at me. “Baby girl,” he said one day when I came in three times. Once before school in case the mail had come after I checked the day before and twice after school. “I’ll let you know the first moment you get somethin’, but you’re drivin’ me crazy running in here all hopped up every afternoon.”

  “But you’re not always here, and sometimes the mail is late and—”

  “I’ll check it if Woody’s not here, okay.” This came from Harry, a charter boat fisherman who was at sea so much when he wasn’t at the bar, he blended into the sun warped decor.

  “See? Dirty Harry’s got you covered. Between the two of us we’ll send you a message or something.”

  “But it’s my birthday soon and he said he’s coming,” I complained. “Fine.” I huffed and left.

  Mid week of our last week of school, we had a total scare when Nana went to see Dr. Barrett and he made her check into the hospital for observation. Joey had driven Nana to her appointment when he went to work that morning, and he was supposed to bring her home, only her tests results came back saying she might possibly have a blockage.

  I made Cooper come and get Keri Ann and me in a borrowed car and drive us to Hilton Head Island. Turned out he brought the yellow VW bug he’d told me about that he’d been working on. It was as cute as I’d imagined.

  When we arrived at the hospital, I decided to go pop in on Mom. I hadn’t expected her to be dolled up and pasting on lipstick in the waiting room of Dr. Barrett’s medical offices.

  “Why are you here, Jazzy?” she asked.

  “Um, Nana Butler?”

  “Oh. Oh yes, I meant to call you.” She smiled wide. “She’ll be fine. Martin says it’s just a precaution.”

  “We dropped Keri Ann at the hospital entrance, and I had Cooper go park while I came to see you.” I waved my hand in front of my face. “What’s with all this?” I asked, referring to her heavy make up.

  “Oh.” Her eyes darted to the side, and she tugged on her tight turquoise blouse. “Martin’s had a long day, what with Nana and all. He just asked me if we could go grab a bite.”

  My stomach sank. “Going to grab a bite doesn’t mean you need date make up.”

  She laughed a little loudly and turned back to applying some mascara. “Pshaw.”

  “So I guess Joey and Dr. Barrett are over with Nana?” I attempted to reel in my annoyance.

  “Joey is, yes. Martin had to run home quickly, then he’ll be back to get me.”

  I folded my arms. “No doubt to go see his wife and kids and lie to them about seeing a patient tonight.”

  “Jessica,” she warned. “Besides, it’s not a lie, he plans to come back here and check on Nana later. So it’s just convenient that he stays close by.”

  I shook my head. “I wish you could hear yourself.”

  “I can hear myself just fine, Missy. And I hear myself needlessly defending myself to my teenage daughter who doesn’t know what it’s like to be my age and single.”

  My blood pounded in embarrassment and irritation. Turning on my heel before I said something hurtful, I left the offices without saying good-bye. I crossed the road over to the hospital, then stopped.

  Shake it off, Jazz.

  Taking a deep breath, I headed inside.

  When I located Nana’s room, Joey and Keri Ann were flanking her, one on either side. Each one holding a hand. They both looked like emotional wrecks and Nana looked fine, but mildly amused by their fussing.

  “Jessica,” she said. “Sweet girl.”

  “Hi, Nana.”

  “Could you be a dear and take these two worrywarts home? Put on a movie, order some pizza, and generally keep their mind off me? I’m fine,” she stressed the last word, looking meaningfully at Joey. “I feel fine. As good as I did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.”

  Joey’s jaw began to tick, but he managed to hold his tongue for once. As someone who was about to start med school, he probably knew just enough to be dangerous. I imagined biting his tongue was killing him right now. His gaze clashed with mine for an instant, and my belly fluttered.

  “Besides,” Nana went on. “They’re bringing round dinner in a moment. There’s a Law and Order marathon starting at six that I plan to watch. I feel like I’m away at a hotel.”

  Keri Ann started fluffing Nan’s pillows. “Fine,” Keri Ann said, a note of false levity in her tone. She was as nervous as Joey. Nana was the only family they had left. “Well, you know where we are. You just get better so you don’t miss my graduation on Friday.”

  Joey caught my eye. “You okay?” he mouthed.

  I stretched my lips into a smile of sorts and nodded. Then I looked at Nana. “I can take care of these two, Nana. We’ll stuff ourselves with pepperoni pizza, and I’ll make Joey suffer through a romantic comedy.”

  Joey rolled his eyes.

  “You’ll stay with the girls, Joseph, all right? Watch whatever they want. Be the man of the house tonight.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “STOP. I CAN’T take it anymore,” Joey grouched. “Oh, and there’s an airport scene. Kill. Me. Now.”

  “What is your problem?” I asked him. “He loves her. He has to stop her getting on the plane.”

  “No, not that. Well, yes that. But seriously, do all chick flicks have to have an airport scene?”

  “They don’t all.”

  “Yeah, they do. Or at least some moment on a plane, a train, a car ride, moving across country, whatever, and oh my gosh it’s gonna be too late. Will he make it? Will she make it? If the other person has gone as far as packing up their entire lives to leave, I can promise you just showing up and saying I’m sorry or I love you is not gonna cut it.”

  “You have a lot of opinions on relationships, Joey. Are you sure you just have a stalker, and you don’t have a girlfriend stashed away somewhere?” Even as I asked it, I felt a paper cut of jealousy slice my good mood. Joey having a girlfriend bothered me. Big time. And the fact I was bothered, bothered me more.

  Keri Ann’s face moved side to side as if she was watching a tennis match.

  “Okay, name them,” I challenged Joey.

  “Name them? They’re all the same. Ok, How to Lose a Guy Forever.”

  I rolled my eyes. “In Ten days. It’s How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.”

  “Uh huh. Well, it’s How to Lose a Guy Period as far as I’m concerned.”

  “And?”

  “Cruel Intentions, The Wedding Singer, I can’t even remember the titles because they all blend into one long cliché-fest. Oh and, wait for it … Casablanca! Which is actually great because it has an epic airport scene, yet it’s not actually a happy ending.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion. You’re all bluster, Joey. You believe in happy endings.”

  He smirked. “I’m definitely not opposed to them.”

  “Gross, Joey,” I snarled. Then curiosity got the better of me. “Wai
t. Have you ever had one of those? A legit happy ending at, like, one of those places?”

  “Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

  “Yes, I want to know if it’s a real thing.”

  “Yes, it’s a real thing.” He stood. “And I definitely do not have to answer that. I’m going out to meet Colt for a drink.”

  “Didn’t Nana ask you to stay and be man of the house?” I asked.

  Keri Ann yawned. “I’m going to bed.”

  “And this man of the house is going out to see Colt.” Joey shrugged. “We’re meeting at Woody’s, you want a lift?”

  I looked at Keri Ann.

  “I’m going to bed.” She yawned again. “We haven’t heard anything about Nana, and as far as I’m concerned no news is good news. She has people waiting on her hand and foot, I bet she’s loving it. You guys go do what you like.”

  Riding the cycle paths at night freaked me out a little. I’d come face to face with an alligator once. Okay, my face to his side as he crossed in front of me. And granted he was only about three feet long, and on a mission that didn’t include me, but still. “That would be great,” I said to Joey. What was worse? Seeing another alligator or being in close intimate proximity to Joey Butler? I guess it depended on your definition of worse. And the idea of being alone with Joseph again definitely made my pulse rate spike the same as meeting an alligator might.

  Interesting.

  WE CLIMBED IN the truck, and I immediately rolled my window down to feel the night breeze.

  “Do you mind if I choose the station,” I asked, pointing at his radio.

  “Sure.”

  “There’s a jazz hour on Wednesday nights they record out of the Jazz Corner on Hilton Head. Did you know the principal of the middle school plays the saxophone there? He’s amazing.”

  I fiddled with the knob, passing over a rap station and a hard rock station, then stopped on an eighties song I recognized and loved.

  “No jazz?”

  “Ha. I love this song.” I frowned. “Weird. Actually I think my mom loved it. I just recognize it.”

  We listened to the lyrics about being sorry for not knowing the right words to say, and how the singer promised someone if they stuck around, he’d make her fall for him.

  “Angsty,” Joey commented.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah,” I agreed and kept turning the knob.

  A beautiful cover of “Summertime” flooded into the car. The vocals were less deep than Ella Fitzgerald but no less stunning. Haunting, really. Certainly for the slow beginning before the rhythm picked up. A shiver crossed my skin.

  The song came to an end as we pulled into the marina parking under a bright street light and Joey killed the engine. I wound up the truck window with the crank handle.

  Joey hadn’t made a move to get out yet.

  I glanced at him.

  “You’re … never what I expect.” Joey reached out and twirled a piece of my hair around his finger.

  My heart flew wildly against my ribcage.

  “It suits you.”

  “What does? My hair. I should hope so. I have to live with it.” I tried to sound jovial, like I didn’t care that he was six inches away from me with my hair touching his skin. If only hair could feel.

  “The music. The jazz.”

  “Oh.” I felt my eyebrows bunching together with confusion.

  “There’s an impulsiveness about it,” he continued, looking thoughtfully at my hair like he was examining fine metal. “You expect it to do one thing, but it does another. Not quite out of key … but out of expectation. Like, a color that’s been drawn outside the lines.”

  “If it’s a perfect color, does it matter? Perhaps it’s more about how the color makes you feel. Or how the music makes you feel.”

  He let go of my hair abruptly, and it fell across my cheek. His blue eyes narrowed as he watched it.

  After an awkward pause, I reached up and tucked the strand behind my ear.

  “Anyway,” he shifted, putting a hand on his door handle. “The music was good, but I’m an inside the lines kind of guy.”

  “Well, I’m not an inside the lines kind of girl.”

  “No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.” And he got out to get my bike from the back.

  “How’s it going with Chase?” he asked as I took it from him and we walked toward the buildings.

  “Fine,” I answered.

  “Isn’t your apartment that way?” he pointed to the path.

  “Yeah. I thought I’d go hang out on my dad’s boat for a bit. Listen to some more outside of the lines music.”

  We walked to Woody’s. He peeled off to join Colt who was sitting at the open air bar two stools down from Harry and tipping a beer bottle to his lips. I caught Harry’s eye and waved. He waved back with a slight shake of his head. No mail.

  I kayaked out to the boat on the silent, dark water. The moon was bright, cutting a white swath across the surface.

  I climbed below deck and after turning the battery-powered turntable on, climbed into the front berth. Some nights I just wanted to sleep out here, but Mom would freak. She said the boat was so old it could sink one day and refused to worry that I might be asleep on it if that happened.

  Clearly I did actually doze because I was startled awake by the sound of my phone buzzing.

  Jay Bird: You okay out there?

  I GLANCED AT the time. Shit. I fell asleep on the boat. Mom would kill me. It was after midnight. Weird that my mom hadn’t texted.

  Jay Bird: I’m stealing a kayak.

  Jazzy Bear: Why? Is this the Joseph version of going for a drunken joyride? How reckless.

  Maybe sarcasm didn’t come over via text.

  Jay Bird: Thank God. You’re alive.

  I snorted a laugh and suddenly realized he meant stealing a kayak to come over from Woody’s to the boat. I sat upright and fished some cinnamon gum out of my bag. I waited. Then fidgeted. I should leave. Intercept him. I climbed up on deck just as Joey tied his “borrowed” kayak up next to mine and then lurched aboard.

  “Jeez,” I said and grabbed his arm, laughing. “Careful. I’d say you are a little drunk.”

  “Nah. Not even close. Only had three beers. Sobering up already.”

  “Okay, let me just close up down there and get my stuff. I’ll kayak back with you.”

  “M’kay,” he said and swayed.

  I raised my eyebrows, and he put up a hand. “Just the waves,” he said. “Just the waves.”

  “Right.”

  I turned and went back down the stairs and poked my head in the front berth to straighten up. Joey followed me down. “Whoa,” I said. “And there’s definitely not room for both of us down here.”

  “Sure there is,” he said and sat on the vinyl bench. He reached behind me and grabbed a stack of postcards.

  “Give me those,” I said.

  He pulled away, squinting at them. “These from your dad?”

  I nodded.

  “He’s been a lot of places,” he said flipping through them. He was looking at the fronts, not the words on the back.

  “Yeah. He’s a photographer. He travels. So …”

  “I guess he thinks about you a whole lot if he sends these to you all the time,” Joey said.

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s guilt.”

  “You can’t feel guilty if you don’t care.”

  I shrugged. “Anyway, I haven’t heard from him in over six months.”

  Joey frowned. “How often did he send you postcards before?”

  “Once a month at least. According to the date stamps. They always arrive erratically though.”

  He kept flipping through. “Lebanon, Durban, London, Gibraltar, Palma, Buenos Aires, Tokyo, Kuala Lumpur, St. Petersburg, Jakarta, Nairobi, Cairo.” He reeled off city after city after city.

  I blew out a breath. “Yeah.”

  “Doha, Qatar, Kuwait City …” his pace slowed. “Kabul, Baghdad.”

  He looked up
at me.

  “Yeah,” I answered his unspoken question.

  “He started taking pictures from war zones?”

  “He always did. In all those places, he was following or documenting some atrocity or some human rights violation. Or someone important who perpetrated such things. But yeah, his ‘war zones’ got … hotter.” I gulped a breath of air and swallowed. I hated talking about this stuff. Which was why I didn’t. Ever.

  “Have you seen any of his work?”

  “Why do you always ask the hard questions?” I asked.

  “Well, have you?”

  I nodded and crouched down in front of him. I heard his sharp inhale of breath and felt it stir the hair at my temple. There was no room for this. We were practically on top of each other. But I kept leaning forward until my hand reached the sliding wood panel behind his calves, sliding it open.

  “It’s all down here,” I whispered. “The ones I know about, anyway.”

  “Show me one.”

  I reached under and pulled out the cowgirl shoe box so I could get the magazine from the top of the stack. It was a National Geographic from the nineties detailing the diamond trade in the Congo.

  He was staring at the shoe box with its picture of pink sparkly cowgirl boots on it. “You had these?” he asked with a grin.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah.”

  He smiled again.

  I handed him the magazine and he turned to the marked section. I had no interest in seeing the pictures again. Joey’s face remained largely expressionless as he went through the pages, though his eyes flickered occasionally, and his jaw tightened once or twice. He closed it and handed it back to me.

  I leaned down and put it back in its place, replacing the shoe box and closing the sliding panel.

  Turning my head, my lips met Joey’s. They were just there.

  I took to them like a life raft. A shelter. A sanctuary. They were soft and all I wanted to think about.

  He inhaled deeply through his nose, his hands coming to my face.

  “Wait,” I said and he blinked. I chuckled and took the cinnamon gum from my mouth, dropping it into a small grocery bag I’d brought water over in a few days back.