Rebound (Boomerang #2)(50)

As I round the corner, she points a ringed finger at me, and her hazel eyes light up. “What is yours, my darling Adam?”

I move right to her. “Hi, Jazz.”

She frames my face and looks at me. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Younger every year, Jazzy,” I say, smiling. She’s one of those older women who—to use her term—has very youthful vibrational energy. Her face is plump and wrinkled, but she still manages to seem girlish and playful.

The smell of incense and natural soap floats up from her jeweled top. Jasmine zeroed in on my eye-contact thing within five minutes of when I met her a few years ago. She keeps trying. But I have the same trick I use on Alison. Jazz wears about seventy-two million necklaces. Beads and feathers and, I swear, bones, hang around her neck.

“You wonderful flirt,” she says affectionately, then she smacks her lips against mine—something she does to everyone. “Get an apron on. We’ve already gotten started!”

Alison’s standing behind an expansive kitchen island, between Philippe and Mia. She’s wearing an apron with the words Mmm, good! across the front, and I couldn’t agree more. Her hair is up and there’s a dusting of flour on her chin and along her neck. In front of her, I see a number of bowls and spoons, measuring cups, and glasses of wine.

She looks amazing—I’ve been waiting for this moment for over a week—but seeing her in the kitchen makes me smile. She looks nowhere near as comfortable as she does in scuba gear or with a horse lead in her hands.

“Where do you want me?” I’m speaking to Jazz, but Ali looks down at her hands, and I see her blush. Philippe—who’s in a Hot Cook apron—gives her an elbow nudge.

“Well, dinner’s almost done,” Jasmine says. Rhett and Mia stand over a huge pot, having a small argument about how much salt to add to the boiling water. Rhett looks up, catching my eye. There’s still a trace of the worry I saw on his face earlier at the bar, but he seems to be relaxing. Paolo, Sadie, and Pippa are chopping salad ingredients, and Cookie, in an Eat Meat apron, is finishing up setting the table. “Why don’t you open some wine?”

“Sure,” I say, and get us set up with white and red on both sides of the table.

I keep looking at Ali. I’m glad she seems to be having fun with the team, but I’m starting to realize that finding some time alone with her these next few days might not be easy to pull off. But I need that. I need to touch her. I need to talk to her. I need to explain to her that we can see each other. We’ll talk to her father. I’ll do it with her, if she wants. But Graham has to come around.

The food is set out on the table, family style, but Jasmine stops us before we take our seats and makes us stand around the table, holding hands.

She does this every year so I’m ready, and I’ve put myself right next to Ali.

It feels like a victory, just getting to hold her hand. And when I glance at her, her face softened by the candlelight, I see something warm in her blue eyes. Heat blazes through me, and I entertain a quick fantasy of making a break for my room and locking the door for the next few days.

“Now, everyone close your eyes,” Jazz says. “It’s safer for most of us to be honest this way.” That feels like it’s meant for me, but everyone follows along. “Good. Now I want us to take a moment and check in with our intentions for the next few days,” she continues. “Say them out loud in your thoughts. Think of sending those thoughts to the people around you. Energy loves energy. Do it now. Send forth your energetic wishes.”

I want to make you quiver. I want you naked and clinging to me and saying my name.

I glance at Rhett and hope I sent my energetic wish in the right direction.

“Good. Okay, everyone open your eyes, but please don’t sit down yet.” Jazz picks up a glass jar in front of her. Everyone’s hands come down, but I linger, holding as long as I can to Ali’s.

“Usually, we don’t get started until morning,” Jazz says, “but I thought we’d do something different this year. I’m going to put you in trust partner pairs right now, and we’re going to jump right in with an exercise. Sound good?”

Everyone looks terrified except Rhett, who nods excitedly. “Awesome, yes!” he says. “Let’s rock it.”

“Very good.” Jasmine smiles, and reaches into the glass jar, removing two strips of paper. “Our first pair is Rhett,” she says, opening one strip. “And Pippa,” she adds, opening the other. “You two will be trust partners for the duration of the retreat. That means you’ll be working closely together, even during group events. You’re a team. Start thinking about that. Please take a seat next to each other, but don’t speak to one another. I’ll explain why in a moment.”

Interesting. The silence thing is new.

Pippa and Rhett sit down and Jazz moves on, selecting the next trust teams.

Sadie and Paolo high-five when they get each other, which makes the extreme stillness that follows the announcement of the Cookie/Philippe team even more pronounced.

Then Mia gets Jazz, which is surprising, but we have an odd number. I feel a little bad for her, but mostly I’m f*cking flying because Ali and I are together.

“Trust partner,” I say, pulling her chair out for her.

“Ah, ah,” Jazz says. “Remember, no talking—and that’s because we’re going to do our very first trust exercise right now.” She sits to a jingle of bells and beads. “It’s very simple, actually. You will be speaking for each other for the rest of the night. So, you may whisper anything you wish to say to your trust partner, and that person will be conveying your thoughts on your behalf. It’s an exercise that will show you the power of speech. Words are gifts, and gifts must be chosen with care. You are representing the interests of someone other than yourselves. It’s going to be fabulous, lovelies. Trust is just waiting for you to—”