Good Times

by Kate, Jiffy

  “Good morning,” she calls out to CeCe, who’s making her way around the counter to steal the baby sleeping on Avery’s chest. Like a ninja, she has Shae out of the wrapped fabric and in her arms with Shae none the wiser.

  CeCe starts cooing to the baby and speaking to the adults in the room in a soothing tone that resembles a character from a Disney film. “Y’all know where the coffee is,” she sing-songs. “Help yourselves. Aunt CeCe is on baby duty.”

  Avery shakes her head as Jette laughs, the both of them making their way to the counter, until Jette sees me and her face lights up even brighter.

  “Ladies,” I greet, pulling an apron from the hooks on the wall near the stairs, tossing it over my head and wrapping the tie around my waist. “What can I get for you?”

  Jette visibly swallows and then averts her gaze, clearing her throat and I can only wonder if she’s thinking what I’m thinking—she wants more than what’s on the menu at Neutral Grounds. Because that’s all I’ve thought about since our kiss in the foyer of her townhouse yesterday.

  My need for her has always been all-consuming, but knowing she can actually be mine and that I can have her—in all the ways I want her—that need has exploded. But I play it cool and smirk at her, winking as she looks back up to me and then to the menu.

  It’s a ruse. She knows what she wants. Georgette Taylor always knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to go after it. “I’ll have an americano and a chocolate croissant.”

  “A decaf latte,” Avery adds. “But I can make it myself, if you need me to.”

  Shaking my head, I give her a smile. “Coming right up,” I tell her, looking back to Jette. “Have a seat, I’ll bring it to you.”

  Avery pulls Jette’s arm and directs her to a table, whispering, “God, he’s a keeper.”

  I can’t help the smile on my face as I literally whistle while I work, drawing shots of espresso, adding steaming milk, and pouring up the drinks, just like CeCe taught me. When I’m finished with those, I grab two chocolate croissants and plate them, carrying it all to the table where CeCe, Avery, and Jette are talking quietly. Jette’s cheeks flush when she sees me and I’d love nothing more than to know what they’ve been saying behind my back.

  “Anything else, ladies?” I ask, my eyes glued to Jette’s.

  Swallowing once again, Jette shakes her head slightly. “No, this is great.”

  With a dip of my head, I walk back to the counter to clean up my mess. A few more customers walk in, most of them wanting their usual drip coffee and the occasional breakfast item, so I take care of them, giving CeCe a break to visit before the insanity that is the week before Mardi Gras descends on her shop.

  Just as I’m getting ready to tackle another order, Paige walks in with a smile on her face and immediately gets to work. “Hey,” she greets, bumping me with her hip. “Thanks for pitching in. It’s good to see CeCe taking a break every once in a while.”

  I look back at the table of women. “Yeah, it’s the baby.”

  Paige nods. “She’d close this place down if Shae needed her,” she agrees. “However, she could be on her deathbed and still try to work.”

  “Babies, man.”

  She sighs. “Yeah, they get you right in the feels.”

  Honestly, I haven’t thought much about babies before now, but seeing them gush over the little guy is definitely making my chest do funny things. Jette is now holding him and the way she lets the entire world fall by the wayside and focus solely on him makes me wonder what she’d be like with her own child.

  So good.

  I already know that. She’ll make an incredible mother one of these days. And I know it’s something she’s always wanted. Even when we were in high school, she’d talk about what she wanted to name her kids. One time, she asked if her talking about her theoretical children freaked me out, to which I replied, no. Not that I wanted a baby at that moment, but even then, I could imagine having one with Jette one day.

  “You headed to the studio today?” Paige asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  Folding the towel I’ve been using to wipe down the counters, I sigh, thinking about my busy schedule. “Yeah, studio this morning and then gigs at the club this evening and tonight. With Mardi Gras kicking into high gear, it’s insane.”

  “I bet,” Paige says, stocking the cups and lids while the shop isn’t busy. There’s always something to be done around here and when the roastery gets going next door, it will be even busier. “We’ve been slammed every day this past week.”

  “Hey.”

  Turning, I see Jette leaning over the counter expectantly, and feel the need to do the same and claim her perfect lips.

  “Hey,” I reply, glancing over to Paige. “Jette, this is Paige,” I say, pointing to my side. “Paige, this is Georgette Taylor.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Paige says, reaching across the counter to shake Jette’s hand.

  “All good I hope,” Jette replies, shaking her hand.

  Paige smiles. “All good. Can I get you a refill?” she asks, pointing to the empty cup on the counter.

  “No, thank you,” Jette says, glancing back at the door. “I have to get to the gallery…but I was—”

  Without hesitation, I pull off the apron and walk toward the end of the bar. “You okay on your own?” I ask Paige.

  “Yeah, get out of here,” she says with a knowing smile. “Have a good day, Georgette! Don’t let the madness of Mardi Gras get to you.”

  Jette chuckles. “Thanks, I feel like I’m going to need it.”

  “See y’all later,” I call out to CeCe and Avery. Jette stops back by the table, grabbing her bag and leaning in for hugs from the two women.

  When we’re out on the sidewalk, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her to me. She sighs, sinking into me. “Well, that was a nice surprise,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head and inhaling her sweet scent.

  “You left me last night,” Jette says and I stiffen a little, but continue to hold onto her.

  “I thought you could use some good rest and if I stayed…”

  Jette stops walking, turning into my chest. “It’s okay. I just missed you when I woke up this morning and I needed to see you.”

  “Everything okay?” I ask, sensing something more in her tone.

  She just stands there looking at me for a long moment. “Everything is great, especially when I’m here, with you. But I had a phone call from my mother this morning.”

  Should’ve known that was coming. “About Trevor?”

  “Yep,” she says on a deep sigh.

  Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I pull her in for a much-needed hug. “Don’t let her get to you,” I tell her, pressing my lips to the top of her head and then down to her temple. “She doesn’t get to run your life anymore.”

  That’s a fanfuckingtastic difference from five years ago.

  Back then, her parents still had pull over her and could make her life miserable if she didn’t do what they wanted her to do, which included keeping her distance from me.

  Now, Jette’s an adult and they no longer get to dictate who is or isn’t in her life.

  “I know,” she says, leaning forward and placing her lips on my collarbone, light as a feather, yet wreaking havoc inside my chest. When the kiss travels to my throat, I have to focus on my breaths so I don’t completely lose myself on this increasingly busy sidewalk in the middle of the French Quarter.

  “You’ve always been able to make everything better,” Jette whispers. “Thank you for that.”

  Tightening my grip on her, I bury my head in the cocoon of us. “No need to thank me, you do that just by being here.”

  Being mine, I want to add, but refrain for fear of moving too fast. In my mind, reaching this point has taken years and it feels like we’ve crawled here at a snail’s pace. But in reality, it’s been less than two months since Georgette walked back into my life, and only a short time since she left her past behind her.
/>   I’m willing to wait, anything for her. And anything to make sure this time is for good.

  When Jette tilts her head up, our eyes locking, I press my lips to hers and drink her in, giving in just enough to take the edge off.

  After a few seconds, we both pull away, knowing we can’t fully satiate the need, not here.

  “Walk me to work?” Jette asks.

  Once I kiss Jette again, at the front door of 303 Royal Street, like I’ve dreamed of doing every day for the past month, I make my way down to Canal Street to catch the streetcar to Lola’s. I have some studio work to do this morning, which will keep me busy until I have to run back to the apartment and grab my sax and a quick change of clothes before going to the club tonight.

  As I’m sitting on the streetcar, just a mere fifteen minutes after leaving Jette, I’m already missing her. The thought of not seeing her for the rest of the day is unacceptable, so I pull out my phone and send her a text.

  Me: Come watch me play tonight?

  Less than a second later, Jette’s reply pops up on my screen, her quirk shining through and making me chuckle.

  Jette: Does a woodchuck chuck wood??

  Jette: You didn’t even have to ask, I was planning on it anyway.

  With a smile that belongs solely to the girl who stole my heart years ago and never gave it back, I enjoy the remainder of my ride to Lola’s, soaking in the sights of the Garden District.

  Peeking my head out the backstage door, I scan the crowd looking for Georgette. She sent me a text half an hour ago that she was closing up the gallery after her last appointment, but I still haven’t seen her.

  I did reserve her a small table near the stage, so at least she won’t have to fight for a table.

  It’s a madhouse in here tonight. The roar of the crowd is almost enough to drown out the sound of the band. But the energy in the club is electric. Thankfully, most of the patrons are casually drinking and the party hasn’t kicked up too high. Frenchmen has just enough of the Mardi Gras vibe without the overcrowding of the clubs and bars on Bourbon.

  But if it’s like this with six days left to go, I can’t imagine what it will be like on Fat Tuesday.

  “Let’s go,” Gia calls out. “We’ve got bills to pay and hearts to break!”

  Someone passes me the bottle of whiskey, but I wave it off. “Finley,” Gia says, saddling up beside me. “I haven’t had a chance to ask you how things are going with Lola.”

  “Good,” I tell her, my eyes still fixed on the crowd. “Great, actually. Thank you again for making the connection. I really appreciate the opportunity.”

  She waves me off. “Don’t thank me. She would’ve tracked you down on her own if I didn’t pass along the message. I’m glad it’s all working out.”

  I assume she’s moving along, doing what Gia does best and rallying the troops, but then she speaks again, making me jump. “Who is she?”

  “Who?” I ask, playing dumb because I hate that I’m being that obvious.

  Gia rolls her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. “You can’t fool me, honey. I haven’t just been around the block; I’ve been around the whole damn city. Who is she?”

  “Georgette Taylor,” I tell her.

  It’s always been Georgette Taylor.

  “Well,” she drawls. “She must be something special to catch the attention of Finley Lawson. Lord knows me and every other warm-blooded female around here have been trying since the day you walked in the door.”

  I’m sure Gia has seen Jette in here before, but she sees a lot of people, so it’s not a surprise she hasn’t put two and two together.

  About that time, Jette’s blonde curls appear in the front door and I watch her as she stands on her own in the throngs of people, pushing her way to the front.

  “The blonde,” Gia says, still standing beside me in the doorway. “I should’ve known. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  “Yeah,” I say, smiling at Jette when she makes eye contact. “She’s the one.”

  Motioning to the small table by the stage, I meet her there. “Thought I was going to have to come find you,” I say, pulling her chair out for her.

  “It’s insane out there,” she says breathlessly. “Just as I thought I was getting used to the crowds, the mob descended. Have you been out there?”

  Squatting down beside her, I can’t help but smile at her wild eyes that match her even wilder hair.

  “You’re beautiful,” I tell her and she stops what she’s doing, her jacket half-way off, as her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink.

  “Thank you.”

  Helping her the rest of the way out of her jacket, I place it on the chair beside her and motion for Suki to take her drink order. “I wish I could sit by your side, but alas, I cannot.”

  “Instead, I’m going to sit here and ogle you while you play,” she quips. “So, get on up there and give me something to look at.”

  Standing, I run a hand through my hair and chuckle. “Is that all I am to you? An object to ogle?”

  “Yeah,” she says, her perfect lips turning down. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I’ve only ever wanted you for your body.”

  Even though we’re joking around, like we’ve always done, and we’re surrounded by a club full of strangers, for a split second, it’s just me and Jette and the spark that’s always sizzled between us. In a silent promise of things to come, I lean down and kiss her like I mean it.

  When I pull back, Jette’s eyes are still closed and there’s a soft smile on her lips where mine just were. Hovering over her, I lower my voice just for her. “There’s so much more where that came from.”

  “I’m counting on it,” she replies as her eyes flutter open.

  Suki walks up about that time and it’s my cue to get my ass on stage. The rest of the band is already tuning up and I have to hustle to catch up.

  Once we start playing, I try to stay focused, but it’s nearly impossible with Jette so close and so much unresolved tension coursing between us.

  Between sets, I head straight to the table. “I’m only playing one more set,” I tell her, accepting a bottle of water from Suki and wiping the sweat off my brow with the collar of my shirt.

  Jette’s eyes grow hooded and I pause with the water bottle halfway to my mouth. “What?”

  “You,” she says, her words lazy and low. “This, watching you play… knowing I’m leaving with you and not just as friends…” She drifts off, shaking her head slightly as she fights back a smile. “It’s a heady feeling.”

  “You’re killing me,” I mutter, leaning forward and inhaling her sweetness before capturing her lips with mine. After a few moments, I pull away. “Sorry, I know I’m sweaty, but I can’t help myself.”

  “Don’t apologize.” Her lips brush mine and I swear a drop of my sweat lands on her lip. “Nothing about this moment is a turnoff.” She laughs lightly, putting a few more inches between us. “Quite the opposite actually,” she says under her breath, shifting in her chair.

  Standing, I down half the bottle of water and set it on the table. “One more set.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Jette’s always been my biggest fan. Unlike other people I’ve been with over the years, I know it’s genuine interest where she’s concerned. Even though we both have better things we’d like to be doing right now, she’d stay and listen to me play as long as the club is open.

  The next set feels like it’s in slow motion, but once it’s done, I’m off the stage and headed to the back. I clean my sax in record time and store it in its case. Going into the bathroom, I tear off my shirt and splash water on my face, freshening up as much as I can before putting on a clean shirt. I know Jette said she doesn’t mind it, but I do.

  She smells so good.

  It wouldn’t be right for me to taint that.

  But I would like to dirty her up.

  Fuck.

  Okay, that’s good enough.

  Shoving everything into
my bag, I toss it over my shoulder and grab my sax. When I walk back out into the club, I stop short. Jette isn’t sitting at the table. There’s a large man with a mullet and a busty redhead now sitting there. The club is even fuller than it was earlier and I start to worry about where she might’ve gone.

  I know she’s tough and she lived in New York for five years, but she’s, well, her, and I’d never want anything bad to happen to her. I’ve always felt protective over her, even when it wasn’t necessary. I can’t help it.

  I’m seconds away from calling her name when I catch a glimpse of her standing by the bar, a couple of guys blocking my full view of her.

  “Jette,” I call out, getting her attention. She slips the bartender a tip into his jar and then quickly makes her way over. “I thought I lost you,” I tell her, pulling her to me and keeping her close as we make our way out of the club.

  A few people offer me a head nod or high five as I’m walking out. “Nice set,” one of the bouncers says as we pass by.

  “Thanks, man.”

  Once we’re finally out in the cool night air, I take a breath. “Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it that packed.”

  “You had them eating out of the palm of your hand,” Jette says, leaning closer. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’ve got quite the following. Possibly even a fan club.”

  I laugh, kissing the top of her head. “I seriously doubt that. Most people who go in there are barely even paying attention to the band on a night like tonight.”

  “Not true. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “With your own eyes, huh?” I tease. “What else did you see with your own eyes?”

  She shrugs. “There was this really hot sax player. I mean, I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed.”

  “Oh, really?”

  After we pass another large group of people and make the turn around the corner, Jette stops, pulling me against the side of a building. “Your place or mine?”

  “Um, well.” When she’s looking at me like this, eyes full of fire and determination, I forget what to say, what to think. “I was thinking maybe we should—”

  “If you’re going to say anything besides my place or yours, it’s the wrong answer, Finley.” Leaning forward, she kisses me softly, pulling me closer by the front of my shirt. “I know you,” she says between kisses. “I know you’re probably trying to do the right thing, take things slow, but that doesn’t work for me.”