"Before your stranger came along, I was the most beautiful male in Beachbay. Forgive me if I'm a little jealous."
I smirk at Joe, making sure to add a lascivious wink at the end. "Your husband still thinks you're the most beautiful. That's all that matters."
He waves it off. "Bartholomew would think I'm beautiful with spirogyra on my face. I want to know what you think."
A once-over at my friend is all it takes for me to determine who's more attractive. His curly hair is pulled back in an ebony pony, and the brown skin exposed by his tee contains a shocking mat of colorful tattoos.
He's a work of art, truly.
But he's not Jason.
I slam that train of thought down the second it forms and grin at Joe. "You'll always be the man for me, sweetie. Bartholomew or not."
This seems to pacify
