“Yeah, and not just pouring his semen into these local young hos,” Perkins commented.
I choked on my laughter.
“Perkins.” Our mom admonished her with a small frown.
“What? He’s been whoring around Jackson Falls and Chinook Woods since he got here. All the conversations at the salon are about him and his conquests.”
“Come on, Perk.” Collins glanced over at Perkins. “You know talk about him has died down in the last few weeks or so.Apparently, he’s either been on his best behavior or he’s working toward turning his reputation around.”
“Well, it couldn’t get much worse,” Perkins mumbled.
I didn’t say a word. I silently followed our mother as she made a beeline for Jones. He spotted her and gave her a big grin.
“You’ve gotta admit that the guy is gorgeous,” Collins whispered to us.
“Community dick is always good-looking.”
I rolled my eyes at Perkins. She could be the quintessential eldest sister at times—all judgmental and disapproving.
Jones checked us in. “So this is your next job after finishing up my project, huh?” I asked him.
He gave me that million-dollar smile. “Yeah. But that won’t stop me from coming by to do those other things you asked about. Changing out the hardware on your kitchen and bathroom cabinets. Installing those custom doorknobs and hanging that chandelier in your bedroom.” He smiled again. “I got you.”
“Appreciate you,” I called over my shoulder as I walked away. One thing about being the youngest sister, if I had lingered just a second too long, my sisters would’ve been all over me with questions.
Jones had put all four Kingsley women on framing and wall assembly. We elected Collins as the foreperson. She got to watch and supervise while my mom, Perkins, and I actually did the assembling.
When it was time for lunch, Bailey showed up with a big bag of food from the bed and breakfast. All of us celebrated by clapping, dancing, and doing little shoulder shimmies. The Kingsley women loved to eat, and the chefs at Bailey’s place made the best food.
Bailey unpacked the offerings, and my mother beckoned Jones over. “Hey. What’s up, Ms. Alisha?”
“Lunch, baby. I had Bailey bring enough for you. Pull up a”—she looked around; we were all on makeshift seating—“a step stool, or a pile of lumber.”
“I actually brought my lunch today, something from the crib.”
My mom twisted her lips. “What’d you bring?”
Bailey was steadily unloading the food. I knew those aromas were wafting into his nose. And I knew whatever he brought from home couldn’t compare with what Bailey was pulling out of the bags.
“A sandwich.”
“You can eat it for dinner tonight. Come eat with us.”
“Yeah,” he said finally. “That smells good as he—That smells good.”
“Sit down,” she told him as Bailey gave us a wave and headed back to work.
He found a stepladder from somewhere and pulled it over to our little group. He and I were next to each other. He stared at my sandwich. “What you got?”
“Double-battered chicken sandwich with lettuce, tomato, Muenster cheese, and mayo. Truffle fries on the side.”
My mother slid over an aluminum-foil-wrapped square. Jones unwrapped it and found a sandwich identical to the one I was eating. We ate in silence for a little while, all of us enjoying the deliciousness of the food. Then my mother had to take a call from Bayliss. Collins had to take a call from Beckham. Perkins needed to rebook a client at the salon. It was just Jones and me.
“So,” I began, “is this better than working on my project?”
He grinned, showing me his dimples. “Probably when I first started, and you were dead set on icing me out. But lately, you’ve been nicer.” He gave a shake of his head. “Nah, it ain’t better than my last few weeks on your project.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I looked down at my fries and picked one up. When I raised my head, I saw a woman coming toward us.