window. She swore she would never touch a mimosa again.
Chapter 2
T he valets had blasted the air conditioner before returning the Civic, but the air inside the car was still stale and hot. Nate felt like he was breathing through a wet towel. Jessie always drove with the windows down, which Nate took as evidence that the air conditioner didn't work at all. Ever since she'd found that mouse nest in her engine, she'd claimed that "the works" in the old car hadn't been the same. He speculated that the failing "works" had less to do with a mouse nest and more to do with the fact that the car had been kicking around since the Paleolithic era.
He attempted to squeeze himself into the driver's seat. Failed. "Have you been transporting elephants in the backseat? Why do you drive so close to the steering wheel?"
"Just move the seat back," she said, staring straight ahead. "The lever's in front."
"Still. It's not safe. You could get killed by an airbag."
"I'll take that under advisement, thank you. Oh, and don't turn on the radio while the car is going or the engine will stall. And you can't run the air conditioner and the windshield wipers at the same time."
He paused. "You sure this car is safe?"
"Totally safe. You just can't do those things."
He adjusted his seat back, eyeing his companion sidelong. Jessie had a cloud following her. Nate could tell by her sullen expression as she fastened her seatbelt. He'd always imagined baby showers to be torturous events, but weren't women supposed to like them? Damned if he'd ever understand any of it. "Are you going to throw up?" he asked as he fastened his own seatbelt. "I can roll down your window and you can just stick your head out, real classy-like. Unless you keep bags in here for these occasions."
Jessie waved a hand at him. "I only had three mimosas. Maybe five."
"Whatever. It's not my upholstery." Nate tilted the rearview mirror. "You don't look well."
"Wow, thanks a lot." She turned to stare at him with wide eyes. "You know, that's a rude thing to say to someone."
"I meant, you look upset."
"Oh." She deflated, then leaned back, resting her hands over her stomach as she seemed to puzzle over the statement. "I guess I'm just thinking about things." She paused. "I have cake on my shoes." She didn't bother to wipe it off.
"Like I said, it's not my upholstery."
He pulled out of the parking lot and followed a gravel drive back to the main road. He hadn't been to Breaker House in ages. For some reason, he'd thought it was closed. It was a stuffy place that seemed to have been built with proms and pretenses in mind, and people had given him funny looks when he'd entered wearing jeans. He glanced over at Jessie and smiled. He had no idea why she had cake all over her, or why she was wearing that clubbing dress, but he sort of loved that she'd passed through Breaker House like she'd just wandered in from spring break. But to be honest, he sort of loved everything about her. He had for as long as he could remember.
She shifted in her seat, and Nate's attention was brought back to the road. "At least you had fun."
Jessie snorted. "Fun? No, I don't think I had fun. It was all a little bit horrible. Although the cake fight was great." She sighed and stared straight ahead. "But I was looking at Maggie — that's my cousin. Third cousin's wife, actually. Third-cousin-in-law? Anyway, she's having this baby, and that's amazing. And she also has this glamorous job and a solid marriage. Well, aside from the fruit cake," she added, but Nate didn't know what that meant. "And then Wren's career has completely taken off and she's writing and traveling the world with Jax, who adores her." She stopped. "I'm talking too much. I do that sometimes when I drink."
"That's okay, I'm only half-listening." He counted it as a victory when she forced a small laugh. Encouraged, he added, "You sound discontented."
"That's a good word for it, yes. Discontented. I'm discontented. First, because what