Grandma had bought a ridiculously good cake from downtown. It was red velvet with sprinkles and had the most amazing frosting she’d ever had in her entire life. She’d even brought the makings for margaritas, Char’s favorite.
Since Grandma’s arrival, Jake had been distant, almost cool. She only hoped it wasn’t because of all the kissing. She’d been upset, and he was just trying to be nice. Like he’d said before, it wasn’t real. It didn’t count because it was her birthday. Right?
“How you holdin’ up?” Jake said, taking a seat by her. “Best birthday ever?”
Char laughed and clinked her glass with his. “Best birthday ever. That is, unless Grandma sets someone on fire, then that would trump it.”
“We’ll be lucky if no one ends up in the ER tonight,” Travis said from their spot on the beach. He and Grandma had been fighting a losing battle with the fireworks for the past hour while everyone else drank margaritas and watched.
“I’m glad we did this,” Kacey said. “Before all the crazy wedding stuff. It’s nice just to be with everyone.”
Grandma snorted as she pulled out another match. Travis backed away while she waved it in the air. “Crazy wedding stuff is right. And don’t think I forgive you two for inviting Petunia.”
Travis groaned. “She’s your sister.”
“She’s a disappointment!” Grandma thrust her fist into the air.
“What did she do?” Char asked, even though Jake was shaking his head no and Travis was waving frantically behind Grandma.
“What did she do?” Grandma asked. “What did she do?”
“She’s repeating herself.” Jake groaned. “Bad sign. Quick, get her another margarita.”
Grandma smacked him on the back of the head and approached Char. “My sister called me a harlot.”
Char bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“At my own wedding!”
Jake raised his hand. “Grandma, you do realize she only called you that because you were on the table—”
“Ssh!” Grandma waved him away. “She’s a prude and she only wears white.”
Char frowned. “Why only white?”
Jake groaned next to her but she ignored him.
Grandma threw the match into the bonfire and shook her head. “She says red’s the color of the devil.”
“And black?”
“The color of hell.”
“Blue?” Char had to ask.
“Sadness.”
“Well, that’s silly.”
“It is,” Grandma agreed. “What she needs is to get a man, but she’s so terrified of them that she’s stayed single. All those years.” She shook her head and tsked.
“All those cats,” Kacey sang from behind Grandma.
“Your future,” Travis nodded, “if you don’t take our advice and go out with Jace.”
“Jace?” Grandma whipped around. “You invited him to the wedding?”
“Fair is fair,” Kacey nodded. “I mean, we want to even out the odds with all the couples, right?”
Grandma glared and then began wringing her hands together.
Char scooted closer to Jake. “I think we’re missing something.”
“Don’t look at me! I’m as clueless as you.”
At that, Grandma snorted. “Yes, he is. Tell me, did you get any wedding preparation done today?”
Jake coughed and looked away.
“Two days!” Grandma held up two fingers. “And Char, don’t forget to request those extra days off with your boss. We don’t want you getting fired.” She winked at Jake.
“Very funny,” he grumbled.
“I think we’re ready!” Travis announced from a few feet behind them.
“Me first!” Grandma charged toward him with her one match and lit it. After a few seconds the firework shot into the sky and cracked.
Fireworks, and they were all for her.
Char giggled and tried to get comfortable in the sand. She felt fingertips graze her shoulder and then Jake was pulling her into his arms. She leaned back against him and sighed as he whispered in her hair. “Happy Birthday, Cinderella.”
“Thanks, Charming.”
“Can I take off your shoes now?”
“Not a chance.”
He tensed behind her.
“But you can hold my hand.”
“Even better.” His hands engulfed hers from behind as he held them in the safety of his embrace.
It was the perfect moment.
Until they heard sirens.
“Uh, Grandma?” Travis scratched his head. “You did get a license from the fire department to set off fireworks on the beach, right?”
Grandma’s silence was answer enough.
Everyone jumped to their feet and made a run for it. All the while Grandma yelled, “I’m not going back to the slammer!”
Luckily they made it safely into the house just as the fire truck and cops showed up on the beach. They turned off all the lights and locked the door.
“On that note,” Grandma sighed happily, “Shall we all go to bed?”
“Yes.” Travis growled, pulling Kacey against him.
Kacey pulled away. “Not until the wedding, hot shot… enjoy the couch.” She slapped his stomach and winked, but Travis wasn’t having any of it. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, pushing her against the wall.
“Close your eyes,” Jake whispered in Char’s ear. “Last time I kept them open too long I saw tongue—haven’t been the same ever since.”
He let out a grunt when Char smacked him on the stomach and made her way to the bedroom.
“Oh, and Char? You and Jake can take the loft.” Grandma waved good night and walked off.
“But…” Char called to her. “Aren’t there more rooms?”
“Nope,” Jake murmured under his breath. “Looks like you’re stuck with me. Look on the bright side. It’s still your birthday; maybe you’ll get lucky.”
He moved away before Char could hit him. “And maybe you’ll survive the night without getting castrated.”
“Not what you said last time.”
Char glared. “You really want to bring up last time when I’m this close to knives and matches?”
Jake nodded and backed away. “I’ll just go take a shower and see if I can’t find you something to wear to bed.”
Chapter Nineteen
He was fine.
Fine, fine, fine.
Way too many fines in that sentence. Sure, Jake was doing a stellar job of convincing himself that being in the same room with Char wasn’t going to kill him. It was like junior high camp all over again. Except this time, he knew exactly what he was missing out on while the girl slept far, far, away from him.
He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to focus on the task at hand: finding Char some clothes. Then again, no clothes were always an option. He smirked, then remembered her threat and continued his search.
Opening up the top dresser door, he found some boxers and a t-shirt he used to wear in high school. Those would work.
By the time he had climbed the stairs to the loft he had almost convinced himself that it wasn’t a big deal. “Almost” being the key word.
Char was already lying on the bed, her legs crossed and her arms behind her head, causing her br**sts to push against her dress in such a dizzying way that Jake had to close his eyes for a brief second. Take that back—not like junior high camp, not at all.
“I found you clothes.” He threw them toward her face. Okay, so maybe kind of like junior high camp after all, since he was still bullying the girls he liked. Where had his game gone? Out the window, that’s where.
“Thanks,” Char muttered, pulling the clothes off her face. “Hey, I remember this shirt.” She laughed and held it up to her chest. “Man of the Year, huh?”
Jake scratched his head and looked away. “Yeah, well, that was a long time ago.” He had been voted Man of the Year in high school, which basically to a hormonal teenage guy meant he was some sort of sexual god sent down to give attention to all girls within his vicinity. They’d loved that shirt. Every time he wore it—well, let’s just say every time he wore it, he was tardy to class.
“I hated this shirt.” Char put it on the bed and sighed.
“You hated it?” Jake took a seat next to her and grabbed the shirt. Had he really been that small? Hell, back in the day he’d thought he was a cut, muscled god. Pathetic, really. The shirt wouldn’t even fit him now.
“Hated it.” Char leaned back on her arms. “I thought it was stupid that people voted on something so silly and that girls took it so seriously. Like, oh my gosh! Did you see Jake Titus today? He’s so hot and he’s wearing the shirt. You know what that means!”
“Shit, how’d you know?”
“Everyone knew.” Char laughed. “If you wore the shirt, it meant you were ready for a little… extracurricular make out session behind the gym. Girls would go to their lockers, add lipstick, hike up their skirts, and just wait for you to pick them. So yeah, I hated that shirt.” She sighed. “Not that much has changed, though. At least now you get your pick without the shirt, right?”
He didn’t really know what to say to that. Was he supposed to agree? Or just lie his ass off? Because technically and sadly, she was right.
“Anyway, I need to change.” She looked at him pointedly.
He didn’t move.
“So…” She nodded toward the door.
Jake shrugged. “I can close my eyes if you’re being that much of a prude, but let me just justify my actions for a brief moment here…”
“Oh please do.” Char turned to him and crossed her arms, again causing her br**sts to spill over her dress. Good Lord, she had a nice body. He licked his lips and looked away so he could concentrate.
“One.” He held up a finger. “I’ve seen you nak*d like four times in my life.”
“Four?”
“Four.” He confirmed. “Once when we were in sixth grade. I was supposed to be in my room when you and Kace changed for the pool. Instead, I snuck over to the guest room and peaked through the door.”
“Pervert.”
“Hey, I’d just discovered I liked girls.”
“Versus what? Mice?”
“Cute.” Jake scowled. “The second time.” He waved two fingers in front of her face, and she pushed his arm away but he kept talking. “Junior high camp. You and Kacey thought I was asleep and you changed into pj’s. I swear ever since then I can’t even look at blue and white stripped underwear without getting a—”
“Stop.” Char moved to stand. “I think it’s safe to say I know where that was going.”
“A huge smile”—Jake winked—“on my face. Gotta love stripes. Anyway, the third time was in high school when you tried out for the basketball team and hit the showers early because you had to go home sick.”
“You do realize that you sound like a Peeping Tom, right?”