Manfax (Winter Brothers #2) - Jacob Chance Page 0,4

brother fashion, Jack steps in.

I grin as I take in my siblings. Just an average night with the Winters brothers.

Is there anything better?

3

Roxanne

“The other bathing suit looks better,” I state.

“But it barely covered my ass cheeks,” Violet argues.

I throw my hands up in frustration. “How is that a bad thing? You have the ass of a twenty-year-old.”

Violet plucks at the straps on the suit and turns sideways, checking out her profile. She grimaces. “And the boobs of a middle schooler.”

“There are plenty of guys out there who’d take a juicy ass over tits any day.”

“If you meet one, send him my way. Actually, forget that, because no guy would pass up the opportunity of being with you in the first place.”

“Cut it out, Vi. You’re beautiful inside and out,” I say. And she really is. She’s a friend who’d volunteer to help me with any troubling situation and ask questions later.

Violet stands with her hands perched on her hips. “If I didn’t love you so much, I could really hate you for how gorgeous you are. You’ve got beauty and brains.”

“So do you,” I shoot back.

“Roxanne Baker, you’ve got tits and ass,” she retorts, arching her brow knowingly.

“Go get dressed. I’m starving,” I change the subject.

Vi smirks and whirls around, closing herself inside the dressing room.

I scoop up the two bathing suits that fit my curves best and call out to Vi, “Which suit are you buying?”

“None.”

“Give them to me and I’ll hang them back on the rack.” I slip my hand inside the opening at the top of the door. She passes the hangers with the suits over. “I’m gonna check out. Meet me at the register.”

“Okay,” Vi replies, but I’m already on my way to the front of the store. I hook the rejected swimwear back on the rack as I pass by. Fortunately, there’s no line, so I place my items on the counter, including two bikinis for Vi. She’ll never splurge on something for herself, and they looked fantastic on her, even though she can’t seem to see it herself.

Everything is bagged and paid for when Violet joins me. “Where do you want to eat?” she asks as we step outside of the small boutique shop.

A steady flow of slow moving cars passes by as we pause on the sidewalk. Newbury Street is busy this time of day. The air feels dense with the high humidity level and I’m tempted to run back inside the air conditioned shop we just left.

“There’s that cafe we like.” I point in the other direction. “About a block up from here.”

“Let’s do it,” she agrees as we merge with the other pedestrians.

We both remain silent until we’re seated inside.

“Holy hell, this air conditioning feels amazing. It’s hotter than sweaty balls out there.” I fan my face with my hand.

Vi’s lip curls. “Eww, couldn’t you come up with a less offensive image?”

“That would defeat the purpose.”

“You can make your point without it being disgusting,” she explains.

I shake my head. “Sometimes you’re so uptight.”

“How is not wanting to think about sweaty balls being uptight?”

“You must’ve felt up some sweaty balls at some point in your life.”

Vi’s head falls back with an exaggerated groan. “Oh my God. Can we please not do this?”

“Do what?” I pretend I don’t know what she’s about to say.

Vi’s narrowed eyes study my expression of feigned innocence. “Turn this into a discussion about all the ways I need to loosen up.”

“What makes you think that’s what’ll happen?”

“History,” she scoffs.

“I don’t need to tell you to loosen up. You’re well aware of the need already.”

She holds her hand up in front of me. “Whatever.”

The waitress stops by to take our food and drinks order, momentarily putting an end to our discussion.

“Are you looking forward to our trip to New Hampshire?” I ask.

“Yes and no.”

“Do I even want to know why you’re having reservations?”

“Who said anything about reservations?” Vi questions.

“You did, in not so many words.”

“I’m a little nervous about spending time with Rex and his brothers. What if it’s really awkward?”

“What if it’s really awesome?” I counter. “Shouldn’t you hope for the best, instead of worrying about something you can’t control?”

She shrugs. “I guess so.”

A confident smile twists my lips. “You know I’m right.”

“Fine. But I’m still going to worry. If I’m having a miserable time, do you promise to leave with me?”

“You’re going to enjoy yourself,” I state.

“I know I probably will, but on the off chance that I’m not, will you take me home?”

“Fine. If it’ll make