Tyed to You (2 page)

“I waited for you before opening the wine,” she said as she led Jasmine into the kitchen. “I brought a couple of bottles up from the cellar. What do you feel like, red or white? I have a nice cab-sav on the counter and I put some pinot grigio in the fridge earlier. It should be cold now.”

“Oh, the pinot grigio sounds good,” said Jasmine. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast though. Got any cheese or something we could have with it?”

“Cheese and strawberries?”

“Now you’re talking.” Jasmine smiled despite her earlier tense mood. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

They took their glasses of wine, the bottle and a small platter of cheese, crackers, smoked salmon and strawberries out to the deck to enjoy the sunshine and light breeze.

Once seated, Laurel stretched her glass towards Jasmine’s, clinking it gently. “Cheers, my friend. I’m so glad to have you here. I was really worried about you, you know. You sounded terrible the other night.”

Jasmine shrugged. “Still licking my wounds, I suppose. Kyle’s moved on, going to be a father in a couple months. He’s got everything going for him, and I’ve got…”

“The house, the car, a fat alimony cheque—I hope that baby keeps him awake every night for the next two years,” Laurel burst in.

Jasmine giggled, despite her blue mood. “I think most babies sleep all night by six months or so, but I love you for saying that.”

“Serves him right! Shagging and knocking up his secretary! How cliché can you get?” Laurel growled. “Had I known what he was up to when we took that trip to Florida, I wouldn’t have bothered swerving to miss him when he fell off the back of your jet ski.”

Jasmine smiled grimly. “I’m inclined to agree with you on that one. I think I would’ve looped around and hit him again. It’s probably why he kept it quiet as long as he did.”

Kyle had come clean about his affair, and impending fatherhood, only four weeks before. His bags and belongings had already been packed and moved out the day he had chosen to break the news to her. The house had felt too quiet, the closet too empty, and the bed felt too big. Not that there had been much lovemaking taking place in the weeks leading up to his revelation. She felt so stupid that she’d missed all the signs of his affair, that she’d buried her head so far down in the sand, that she’d fallen for lie after lie. The day he had told her that not only was he in love with Molly, but they were having a child together, had been one of the worst days of her life. If it hadn’t been for a three-hour telephone conversation in the middle of the night with her lifelong friend, well, she had no idea how she would’ve survived that first night.

“Fuck Kyle, you’re better off without the cad,” Laurel snapped. “If I was a dude, I’d go kick his ass myself for doing you that way. Good riddance. More wine?”

“Like you need to ask,” Jasmine said, handing Laurel her glass. “So how are things with Hank?”

Laurel shrugged, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. “Not bad, actually. He travels a lot, you know, but we make the most of the time when he’s at home. In fact, we’re toying with the idea of taking the plunge.”

“No!” Jasmine gasped. “Marriage? You?”

“Oh, hell no!” Laurel snorted then took a sip of her wine. “Moving in together. We live only ten minutes apart from each other as it is and have been trading sleepovers between our places for nearly two years now. We figure it’s time to consolidate, so we’ve recently toured a few condos.”

Jasmine’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Wow, huge step for you. I must say I’m impressed. Find anything you like?”

“Yeah, there’s one I like on the east side that I kind of fell in love with, but we have two more to look at next week after he gets back from Shanghai.”

Jasmine watched Laurel’s eyes slide almost guiltily away from hers and she placed her glass down on the table. “You’re really serious about this.”

“Hank’s already listed his house,” Laurel hedged.

“But you haven’t.”

“Eh…”

That sounded more like her Laurel, but Jasmine had no doubt she was on course to taking that step with Hank, one she’d never known Laurel to have considered with any other man. Jasmine had a hunch that Hank saw what a prize he had in Laurel, and was slowly winning over her commitment-phobic friend. He was easily the boyfriend Laurel had held onto the longest, maybe she would realise once they moved in together that he really might be the ‘one’.

The two continued their chit-chat until the bottle ran dry.

“Oh, time for a new bottle,” Laurel announced. She stood, then began to walk back inside the house. “Same kind fine with you or do you want to try something different? I chilled two of these pinots.”

“Yeah, more of that one is fine,” Jasmine replied as she followed Laurel inside. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“You know where it’s at,” Laurel said, gesturing glibly towards the door near the guest room.

Jasmine relieved herself then checked her appearance as she washed up. Her ebony hair was knotted back in a messy bun she’d pulled it into while sitting out on the deck and her mascara was still intact after all her kvetching over her failed marriage. Good enough.

Looking down, she noticed her blouse was gaping a bit. She was surprised to see she’d somehow lost a button on her short-sleeved green gingham blouse. “Damn.” She opened the bathroom door. “Laurel, I lost a button from my shirt.”

Laurel peeked around the corner. “So?”

“Have you seen it?”

“Nope.” Laurel ducked back into the kitchen. “I have wine for you here.”

“Great. I need to change or something, I can’t sit around in a shirt that gapes funny.”

“It’s just us,” Laurel reasoned.

For now
, Jasmine thought to herself. “No, I’m gonna change.”

“Oh for God’s sake, just take off the shirt. You have a tank top on underneath and it’s warm outside.”

“I guess,” Jasmine sighed, undoing the rest of the buttons before taking off the shirt and shoving it into her overnight bag, which still sat in the doorway of the guestroom. The ‘tank top’ was more of a thin, black, spaghetti-strap, cotton camisole, and it left her bra straps exposed, but it would do, she supposed. “I’m sleeping in here tonight?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ve called dibs on Mom and Dad’s room up in the loft. I think Ty and his buddies will either crash downstairs or in the studio above the boathouse.”

“So what time are the hooligans supposed to show up anyway? I thought we were past the babysitting years,” Jasmine quipped as she returned to the kitchen.

“The hooligans are here, and maybe we’re here to babysit you two. Did you ever think of that?” a deep voice intoned from behind her.

“Oh God!” Jasmine jumped and whipped around to see Tyson emerging from the basement-level staircase. He’d been attractive and fairly irresistible
—
much to Jasmine’s chagrin—when he had been on the cusp of seventeen. Now, he was a simply mouth-watering six feet and four inches of lean, muscular deliciousness, and had the most captivating green eyes she’d ever seen on a man. Though his family’s Mediterranean heritage gave both him and his sister a gorgeous olive complexion, it was Laurel who ended up with their father’s brown eyes, and Tyson took after their mother.

“Aw, I didn’t mean to spook you, Jasmine! Sorry about that.” He chuckled as he crossed the room towards her. Two grinning young men followed behind him.

“Oh geez. That’s okay. How are you, Ty?” she asked, surprised to find herself wrapped in Ty’s arms in a casual ‘hello’ hug. He smelt amazing.

“I’m great, ready for a fun weekend on the lake. You look great, by the way.”

She tried not to blush while Ty held her out at arm’s length, seeming to give her a proper once-over.

Embarrassed, Jasmine took a step back, then, remembering the skimpy tank top she was wearing, folded her arms across her chest as casually as she could manage. “Thanks,” she said awkwardly. “You look…good, too.” That was an understatement.

His hair had a natural sun-kissed appearance. Bronze highlights stood out from his dark chestnut locks, and it had grown out a little longer than she’d remembered. Wind-mussed layers fell just past his jaw, which looked as though it hadn’t been acquainted with his razor for a day or two. He was wearing a snug T-shirt that put every muscle in his chest, shoulders and arms on display, and Jasmine briefly wondered if his ‘pack’ was a six or an eight before she felt her face flush. She quickly executed an about-face to the kitchen to retrieve her glass of wine from Laurel. Laurel crooked an eyebrow at her but didn’t comment upon it as she handed her the glass.

“Thank you,” rasped Jasmine.

“Hey, sis,” Ty greeted, as he walked to the fridge. “You remember Saul and Freddie?” He tossed beer cans over his shoulder towards his friends without even checking to see if they were ready to catch them.

“’Sup, Laurel?” One of the young men addressed Laurel with a quick nod of the head. His skin was copper-tone and he had short, shiny black hair and a one-hundred-watt smile.

“Saul,” Laurel replied sardonically. “He wants me,” she whispered dramatically to Jasmine, who only raised her eyebrows at the turn in conversation.
Hell, the turn in the whole situation,
she thought, taking a hearty sip of her wine.

“You’re breaking my heart, Laurel,” Saul complained, exaggeratedly grasping his heart over his chest.

“Psh, Saul, you don’t have the game to catch a woman like Laurel,” said the other man, who had to be Freddie, elbowing his friend in the side. Freddie’s short red hair and spray of freckles made him look as harmless as they come, though his crystalline blue eyes were very intriguing. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your hot friend?”

“Oh boy,” Jasmine muttered, bringing her glass back to her lips.

“This beautiful, apparently thirsty lady is my lifelong lady-friend, Jasmine. Play nice with her, boys, she’s newly single.”

Jasmine sputtered at Laurel’s blunt revelation. “Laurel!” she barked between coughs. “Seriously?”

“Excellent.” Saul grinned rakishly as he rubbed his hands together.

“Cut it out,” Ty said, smacking Saul on the back of the head. “She’s going through a divorce. Some asshole was dumb enough to actually cheat on her, can you believe it?”

Jasmine’s mouth dropped open, then, quickly recovering, she glared at Laurel. “Jesus, big mouth much?”

“What?” Laurel shrugged innocently, as though Jasmine’s dirty laundry hadn’t just been spilled all over the kitchen. “Mom and I were talking about it. I can’t help it if Twerp was snoopy and overheard things.”

“Who are you calling Twerp? I’m easily ten inches taller than you!” Ty objected.

“Ugh, whatever,” Jasmine muttered, starting to walk back outside to the deck with her glass, before she paused, went back to the kitchen, grabbed the open bottle of white wine with her free hand and carried it out with her.

“Atta girl,” Laurel commented appreciatively. Jasmine ignored her.

She only half-listened to the conversation going on in the kitchen as she recovered from her embarrassment, refilling her glass once more. And as the flame in her cheeks cooled, she then wondered why she cared so much. She’d known Ty since he had been a child and his friends were just some silly guys fresh out of college. What did it matter to her what they thought?

“Feel like going out on the boat?” Ty stepped out onto the deck.

“Now?”

“No, next month,” he cracked. “Yes, now. Well, once I get the boat ready to go. It should take about twenty minutes. Do you have a swimsuit? We’ve got skis and an air biscuit for tooling around on the water.”

“Um…I think after all this wine, it’s probably best I don’t get hauled around the lake by a rope. I’ll come along for the ride, though. Laurel’s going, right?”

“Oh yeah, totally. I’m gonna go get the boat ready, see you down there.” And with a quick, heart-stopping grin, Ty was gone, bounding down the stairs to the boat house.

“What did I get myself into?” Jasmine whispered to herself. She then drained her glass, grabbed the nearly-empty wine bottle and went inside to get changed, mentally cursing her choice to bring her skimpy black bikini rather than a more demure one-piece.

As it turned out, Laurel would not be joining them on the boat. Just as she and Jasmine were changing into their swimsuits, Hank called from Shanghai. “I need to take this, Jasmine. Why don’t you go take a ride with the boys? I’ll start dinner after I get done talking to Hank.”

Jasmine cringed and hesitated.

“Oh, just go. It’s only Tyson! He won’t bite…unless you want him to.”

Jasmine gasped indignantly, words failing her.

Laurel threw her head back and laughed as she slid the sliding glass door shut in Jasmine’s face, locked it, and waved sweetly as she began talking to her boyfriend on the phone.

Jasmine was beginning to wonder if Laurel hadn’t had ulterior motives in her invitation for this weekend.

Chapter Two

Cursing Laurel under her breath, Jasmine tromped down the exterior staircase to the dock where Tyson and his friends waited for her.

“Laurel’s not coming. Hank called and she stayed to talk,” Jasmine announced as she approached the boat—Mr Benedetti’s prized twenty-two-foot, 1946 Chris-Craft Sportsman. Her mouth went dry when she saw Ty standing on the rear deck in his low-slung red and black board shorts and no shirt. It was definitely an eight-pack he was working with, and sweet Jesus it was beautiful. The ghost of a smirk on his face as his eyes roved over her scantily-clad curvy figure told Jasmine he appreciated what he was seeing as well.

He smiled and shrugged. “No worries. We’ll have more fun without her anyway.” Jasmine smiled wanly at Tyson as her new mantra of the day, ‘Laurel’s baby brother, Laurel’s baby brother,’ ran through her mind. She took his outstretched hand to step on board and was surprised by the bombardment of emotions that shot through her at his touch.

“Watch your step,” he cautioned as she took the long step down into the boat.

A current from another passing watercraft came through and they were rocked unexpectedly, causing a tipsy Jasmine to stumble. Ty caught her, holding her a moment too long before asking, “You okay?” Jasmine blushed and extricated herself from Ty’s arms. “Um. Yeah. Yes, er, I’m fine. All that wine, you know. My balance is a little off at the moment.”