birthday at that, so she should do at least one frivolous thing, right? She turned the page of her journal and glanced at her secret bucket list.
—Take a cruise to Alaska.
—Get some “me” time every day.
—Learn to knit.
—Buy shoes that aren’t nursing shoes.
“Okay, seriously, I’m worried,” Jenna said. “You’re sitting at your birthday party eyeing a list about buying nursing shoes?”
“About not buying nursing shoes,” Piper corrected. “And this isn’t my party.”
“It’s your party. And if you’d told Gavin and Winnie about it, they’d be here helping you celebrate too.”
Just what she needed, to give her twenty-seven-going-on-seventeen-year-old brother and her not-quite-legal-to-drink sister a reason to party. “I told them not to come. Gavin’s busy at his job in Phoenix, and Winnie’s working hard on her grades at UCSB.”
“They’re lucky to have you, I hope they know that,” Jenna said genuinely. “You work so hard, Piper, keeping all of you going. But today, at the very least, you should have some fun.”
“I hear you. But keep that . . .” She pointed to the sign hanging above the bar. “. . . In mind, yeah?”
The sign read:
WARNING:
ALCOHOL MAY MAKE THE PEOPLE IN THIS PLACE
APPEAR BETTER LOOKING THAN THEY REALLY ARE.
Jenna laughed, but wasn’t deterred from glancing over at the closest table to the bar, where three guys sat.
“Oh, no,” Piper said. “Don’t you dare.”
But then she was grimacing because Jenna dared. “Who here is single?”
Two of the guys pointed to the third at their table.
“You?” Jenna asked him.
He took a beat to check Jenna out. Tonight her partner was channeling Beach Jenna with her wild blonde hair rioting around her pretty face, her athletic build emphasized by tightly fitted fancy yoga gear. “Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I’m most definitely single.”
“Good. Because my friend here . . .” Jenna turned to gesture at Piper, who’d been trying to sneak off, but froze in the act of getting off the barstool when they all looked at her.
“It’s her birthday,” Jenna said.
“She’s hiding in the corner writing in a book,” the guy said doubtfully.
“Yes, well, we can’t all be perfect, right? Look, she’s friendly . . .” Jenna grimaced and made a correction. “Ish. And she’s got all of her shots and is potty-trained to boot. I mean, yeah, sometimes she hides out in bars writing in her journal. Or in her pantry closet inhaling an entire bag of Cheese Poofs while thumbing through Pinterest, but hey, who doesn’t, am I right?”
Looking alarmed, the man turned back to his friends.
“Gee,” Piper said dryly. “And you made me sound like such a catch too.”
Jenna shrugged. “Maybe he’s just not a Cheese Poofs fan.”
“Yeah. That’s definitely it.”
“Don’t you worry,” Jenna said. “I’m not done.”
“Please be done.”
But Jenna was now eyeing the man who’d just taken a barstool a few seats down. That’s him, she mouthed to Piper.
Who?
New Hot Guy!
Piper sneaked a peek. He was in military green cargos and a black Henley that hugged his long, leanly muscled body. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and dark scruff, all of which went with his quietly dark expression that said Not Feeling Social.
Jenna stood as if planning on another round of Let’s Embarrass Piper, but Piper grabbed her. “Don’t you dare!”
Jenna just smiled and looked at the man. “Hey.”
He nodded at her.
“So . . . you’re a guy.”
“Last time I checked,” he said dryly.
Jenna jerked a thumb to Piper. “It’s my best friend’s birthday.”
Hot Guy’s gaze locked on Piper.
“She’s made herself a list,” Jenna said.
Hot Guy eyed the still open journal as Jenna assisted by turning it his way for ease of reading.
Honest to God, Piper had no idea why she loved this woman.
Hot Guy read the list and then rubbed the sexy scruff on his jaw. “Is this for you or your grandma?”
Jenna snorted. “Hey, that’s her nickname, actually. Grandma.”
“Some wingman you are.” Piper snatched up the journal and closed it.
“What does ‘me’ time entail?” Hot Guy asked.
“I’m pretty sure it involves batteries,” Jenna answered helpfully.
“Okay,” Piper said and pointed at Jenna. “You know what? You’re cut off.”
“Notice that she didn’t answer the question,” Jenna said to Hot Guy. “She’s good at that.”
“It doesn’t involve batteries!” Piper snapped. No way was she going to admit she’d meant a nap.
Jenna took the journal back, flipped the page, and added something to Piper’s supposedly secret list:
—Get laid.
Then she drew an arrow pointing at Hot Guy, who nodded in approval. “Now you’ve got a list.”
“Keep dreaming, buddy,” she said before turning back to Jenna. “And you. Are