J.C. and the Bijoux Jolis: The Rousseaus #3 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 14) by Katy Regnery

scratch them out.”
    She chuckled softly and raised her hands. “Nails sheathed…for now.”
    “Good to hear it,” said Kate, squeezing her shoulder with approval. “Do you want to freshen up before cocktails?”
    “No way I’m delaying alcohol,” said Lib, grinning up at her friend.
    “Where should I put Lib’s bags, Kate?”
    Kate gave Libitz a look and mouthed “Lib?” before turning to her brother-in-law. “Would you be a darling and put them in the gray guest room at the end of the upstairs hallway to the right?”
    “Sure,” he said, holding out his hand for Libitz’s black purse.
    Looking into his eyes, she let it slip from her shoulder and handed it to him. “Thank you.”
    “No problem,” he answered, winking at her as he took the bags upstairs.
    Kate put her arm around Lib’s waist, guiding her into a grand dining room and through swinging doors that led to the kitchen.
    “Ummm…is it just me? Or did he have a brain transplant?” said Libitz, marveling over the changes in J.C. since the wedding in June.
    Kate opened the fridge, took out a bottle of chilled Chardonnay, and poured Libitz a glass, gesturing to a round table for eight that sat in a round nook off to the side of the cooking area. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto a patio, pool, and expansive bright-green lawn.
    “What do you mean?” asked Kate, setting the wine in front of her friend, then turning back to the counter for a prepared platter of grapes, cheese, and crackers.
    “I mean…,” said Libitz, taking a sip of her wine as she sat down, “the level of smarm has been halved since last we met.”
    Kate sat down across from her, tearing a sprig of grapes from a larger vine. “Are you sure you gave him a chance?”
    “KK…believe me, he was disgusting.”
    “Oh, come on. He couldn’t have been that bad.”
    You’re a bitch.
    “He was.”
    “Maybe he was drunk at the wedding? Everyone gets drunk at weddings, and guys act like asses when they’ve had too much.”
    Maybe , thought Libitz.
    But giving a moment of thought to their interactions that weekend, she quickly dismissed the idea that his behavior at the wedding was merely the result of drinking. It had been consistently smarmy all weekend. Nor did she believe that she’d misjudged him two months ago—he had acted like a predator and an asshole.
    And that said, the J.C. she met today wasn’t a completely new person. He’d still called her “Elsa” earlier at the train station. He’d still bantered with her in the car as cleverly as he had at the wedding. The difference was in the delivery. It felt more playful now and less dirty. In the simplest possible terms, she felt less like a piece of ass and more like a person.
    She sighed, annoyed to be spending so much time thinking about him. “Let’s talk about you instead. How are you feeling?”
    “Changing the subject, huh? Okay. But when I’ve got you good and drunk, I’ll make you talk,” warned Kate. “And how do I feel? Fat. Well, fatter than I did before. And gassy. They never mention the gas.”
    “You look beautiful,” said Libitz. “Pregnancy suits you.”
    “I felt her kick last week,” said Kate, her smile dreamy and soft. “Can you believe I’ll be a mom by Christmas?”
    “Chanukah. And yes, of course I believe it. I’m thrilled for you.”
    Kate reached for Libitz’s hands. “The party’s on Sunday, which means lots of prep work tomorrow. How about we spend Monday shopping? Baby clothes, a bassinette—”
    “Booties! Some soft blankets!”
    “A little bathtub?”
    “Yes! And fluffy towels.”
    “You don’t mind?”
    “Mind?” exclaimed Lib. “Are you kidding? I get to go shopping for my goddaughter! And you better let me spoil her, KK!”
    Kate nodded solemnly as she made herself a cracker-and-cheese sandwich. “But of course.”
    Libitz caught some activity on the lawn out of the corner of her eye and looked out the windows to see Étienne and J.C. scramble