Did pussies actually clap? Because, I swear to God, in that moment, my pussy gave Jett a standing ovation for his answer.

“Wow, um, this conversation got dirty pretty quick,” I tried to laugh it off, even though I was pretty sure I was involuntarily licking the phone.

Self-respect Goldie, self-respect.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who went there,” Jett pointed out.

“You’re probably right about that, but I will neither confirm nor deny if it was really me.”

“Stubborn woman,” Jett chuckled.

“Glad you figured that out, now, tell me, what are you wearing?” I couldn’t help myself. I knew we had to work on deeper subjects about our lives, but right now, skimming the surface was fun; it was opening up the conversational gates to help us dig a little deeper. It was easier to crack the surface first, rather than trying to dig to the bottom right away.

Mirth laced his voice as he talked, “Black button-down shirt, black pants, and I was wearing a black tie, but that is now on my desk.”

Just as I suspected, the man was tie-less. Imaging what Jett Colby was wearing was making my underpants dance excitingly. I loved it when he wore black, because it made his strong features stand out more, plus those eyes of his, fuck me, those eyes could bring me to a bent over position, just begging to be taken care of.

“Are your sleeves rolled up?”

“They are, do you like it when they’re rolled up?”

“I do, you have some pretty sexy forearms.”

“Forearms? Really?”

“Yeah, they’re hot.”

“Hmm…” I could hear him wrestling on the other line.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making a note to always flex my forearms when I’m near you. The more I can do to help my case, the better.”

“Ugh, you’re going to be annoying about your forearms now, aren’t you?”

“Most likely,” he laughed. “But, then again, you haven’t dropped the whole Jettonathan thing, so I could accuse you of being annoying.”

“And why would I do that? It’s your God given name.”

“It really isn’t,” he laughed.

“It could be. I mean, Jettonathan, it has such a hoity ring to it, perfect for you.”

“Hoity, huh?”

“Don’t even deny it. You know you love wearing your white sweater sets at the country club, while talking about the latest stock market margins and holding a tumbler in your hand with your pinky out for everyone to see.”

“Now, Goldie, what happens to girls who lie?”

“Tell me I’m lying; you know it’s true.”

“You’re lying; I don’t hold my pinky out. Never have.”

“I’ve seen you do it.”

“Liar,” he chuckled, as did I.

“I’m not lying! There was a night when we were drinking…”

“I’m going to stop you right there. Any sentence that starts with we were drinking, I’m not going to believe. Have you seen you drunk?”

“Yes, and I am a delight, just an absolute delight,” I responded with my chin held high and confidence in my voice.

“Yes, a total delight. Need I remind you…Cow Vagina?” he asked, referring to a night I “supposedly” started calling him a cow vagina face. I have yet to see the evidence.

“Funny thing is, Jett, you keep bringing that up, but I have yet to see the video on this. How can I believe what you’re saying to me? I can’t let you drag the great Goldie name through the mud with such lies.”

“Come over here right now, Little One. I’ll show you.”

Fuck was I tempted. I was so damn tempted I actually felt myself lean toward my shoes, but I knew it was a bad idea. By the way he’d been sending shivers down my spine since I got on the phone with him, I knew I was bound to end up in the Bourbon Room with my legs spread and Jett Colby circling me, waiting to see what he was going to do to me.

“Maybe another time,” I answered lamely, not really knowing what else to say.

Easily, in a matter of three little words, I busted the bubble Jett and I were living in, and we were brought back down to the painful reality that we weren’t really where we wanted to be when it came to our relationship.

The awkwardness resurfaced and the inability to have a conversation with each other took over, rather than the easy flow we’d been enjoying.

Good job, Goldie.

Once again, clearing his throat, Jett said, “Can we talk about the date I would like to take you on?”

“Yes, I would like that,” I responded, all too politely. Who was the one with their pinky out now?

“Well, first of all, are you free on Saturday? I’m not sure of your work schedule.”

“My work schedule consists of me telling Diego when I want to work, so you don’t have to worry about that. Before I commit, because I don’t want to be that easy, tell me what you have planned.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled.

Can I please just state for the record, I had never seen Jett Colby so…easygoing before? Maybe the man was tense about Lot 17 for so long that I never really got to see the fun side of him, because all this laughter coming from the other end of the phone was warming up my damn heart.

“So, Saturday is the Gumbo festival in the Quarter, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me…as a judge.”

I wanted to clear my ears out to make sure I’d heard him correctly.

“I’m sorry, did you just say as a judge? Like, I get to eat Gumbo all day and criticize their recipes?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I was about to scream from the rooftops yes, since I absolutely loved Gumbo, but then the scene unfolded in front of me, and I realized this would be a massive public appearance.

“Are you aware that if I go with you to this thing, we will be seen together in public; it’s not like we would just go there and walk around. No, cameras will be taking in the entire event.”

“I’m very aware.”

“And you’re okay with that? Of being seen publicly with me?”

Without hesitation, he answered, “I would want nothing more than to be seen with you by my side. I meant what I said, Goldie. I want to date you, I want a relationship with you, a future. I’m in this for the long run. There is nothing that can get in my way…only you.”

Because I held the cards, he didn’t have to say it, I received his silent statement.

“Then, sign me up, Jett. I would love to accompany you to the festival.”

24

“Bright”

Jett

Why the fuck was I so nervous? It’s not like I haven’t taken Goldie out on a date before. I took her out before we were even an item, and I was way more confident than I am right now. I’ve spent entirely too much time standing in front of my mirror, checking my clothes out to make sure they were perfect.

Fuck.

My clothes didn’t matter; I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, but I still ended up changing my shirt five times. I wanted to look casual, to come off as more approachable, more relaxed, but I didn’t have casual clothes, so I had to settle for a pair of navy shorts, a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows, and I matched my brown loafers with my belt. I was able to get a haircut in this week, by some miraculous scheduling, so my hair was freshly shaven on the sides and styled to the side on top.

“You look like you’re going sailing,” Kace’s voice came from my bedroom door. He was the only one who had seen my bedroom, and that’s because he didn’t give a shit about my rules. Kace had no boundaries. “Should I fetch you your captain’s hat?”

“Fuck you, man,” I shook my head. “Is it that bad?”

“Is it bad that you’re asking me for fashion advice? Seriously, dude, grow a pair.”

I ran my hands over my face and gave up on the clothes; it didn’t matter, it was trivial compared to the real work I had to do in order to win Goldie back. The other night, on the phone, hell, I felt alive again. To hear her tease me, press my buttons, I missed that. Call me some sort of masochist, but Goldie’s defiance and her candid ability to push my buttons was something I now craved. It wasn’t the fact that she was a challenge, because she was most definitely a challenge, it was how real she treated me. She didn’t take my crap; she didn’t care who I was or what social standing I had. No, she treated me like every other person she knew, and that’s what I craved.