him. “That was not my fault. Their stuff wasn’t authentic.”
“But instead of just reporting it you went after them until it caused a fight.”
“They were forging Layla’s signature,” I argue.
Jagger holds up his hands. “I’m not saying anything is wrong with it. I’d do it all the same way you did.”
“Excuse me?” Quinn’s hand with her sparkling million-dollar ring (okay, maybe a slight exaggeration), lands on her husband’s leg.
“Not the Winter Games thing babe. You know you’re the only pussy I eat.”
“Jag!” Layla screeches and looks across the table, but Vance already has his hands over Via’s ears. Layla’s son, Payne, who’s a little older, chuckles. I’m guessing this isn’t the first time Jagger has said something inappropriate in front of him.
“Sorry.” He eyes his wife’s small swollen belly. “We’re getting off course. I’m just saying, fuck him.”
“Jag!” This time it’s Vance but knowing his best friend he kept his hands over his stepdaughter’s ears anyway.
“I’m thinking you might have to take a parenting class before this one arrives.” Quinn rubs her belly and the whole table laughs.
“That kid’s first word is going to be pussy,” Leo says and Teegan widens her eyes at them.
“At this point Payne and Via will use the word on the regular,” Layla says, but she doesn’t seem horribly upset about it.
“You’re a writer and you want the story. The truth. I get it.” Jagger disregards the table and continues doling out his advice to me. “I’m an agent, do you have any idea how much of an as—jerk…”
Quinn claps for her husband on not swearing.
“I’m one all the time and unapologetically so. I do what gets my client the best deal. They hire me because of that. For you it’s getting the reader’s the real story. And if your boss can’t see that than find another job.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Believe me, your biting chihuahua personality is what anyone who appreciates journalistic integrity would covet. So own it.”
Quinn leans forward. “That’s his way of giving you a compliment by the way. Just in case it wasn’t obvious.”
I smile.
“Now, you’ve been eyeing that guy outside on the patio. Go celebrate… with him.” I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Jagger noticed. It’s his job to read people and use it to his advantage.
My gaze moves to the blond who’s all dimples and laughter with his friends. As though he can feel me staring, his gaze connects with mine and I hold it long enough to judge that there’s interest on his part too.
“He’s a surfer dude,” I say.
Vance scoffs. “We’re surfer dudes.”
“But you’re successful surfer dudes. He looks like a surf bum.” The hottie looks over at me again and I lick my lips. I wouldn’t mind running my hands down his rippled stomach. Or my tongue.
Leo turns around. “Surfer bum? That’s—”
I tear my eyes away from the guy to look at Leo who’s looking at Jagger.
“Do you know him?” I ask.
Leo shakes his head, his gaze still on Jagger. “Nope. He looks like someone but…”
Teegan looks over her shoulder, feeling I think like me, that something isn’t quite right with Leo’s reaction either. But she shrugs when she turns back.
“Just go.” Jagger nudges me. Why didn’t I choose the other side of the table to sit? “I’d be your wingman, but I’m off the market.” He puts his arm around Quinn and his other hand rubs her belly.
“Okay. I’ll probably be back.”
“Hopefully you won’t. He’s delicious,” Teegan says.
“Excuse me?” Leo asks and the table laughs.
The one thing I envy about these three couples is their sense of security with one another. The trust that remains amazes me. But maybe that’s because I come from a divorced household where both parents didn’t understand the meaning of monogamy.
I stand and tuck in my chair, eyeing the cutie one more time before I head toward the bathroom.
As luck or hormones would have it, he’s waiting for me in the small hallway outside the bathrooms when I come back out.
He kicks off the wall, wearing a threadbare T-shirt now with some surfing logo on it. “Hey. I’m Trent.”
“Sophie.” I smile.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Only a drink?” Look at me. This day has pushed me to my limit. I have nothing to lose, so I might as well be straight.
He laughs. “What else did you have in mind?”
I shrug.
“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy.” He grins and pushes his hand through his long hair that’s blondest at the tips.