“God and Grandma have it in for me,” he said honestly. “That’s what I think. I also think”—he pushed away from the counter and stalked toward Char as she backed up—“that if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“Like what?” Her eyes pleaded with his. Shit, they were practically begging him to kiss her.
With a curse he turned away, breaking eye contact. “Like that.”
“Ready?” The lady came back around the corner.
“Not really.” Char handed her the sheet. “Can you just pick for us? I’m sure whatever you choose will be fine.”
With a shrug, the lady grabbed the paper and then handed them a card. “I’ll be at the house around seven to set up. See you tonight!”
“Tonight?” Jake and Char said in unison.
The lady looked confused. “Yes, tonight. I’ve been told the rehearsal dinner is on Saturday, and today’s Friday. It’s the only available night for this type of demonstration.”
“Well, how long does it take?” Jake asked.
“Oh, honey.” She winked. “If that’s your question, you really aren’t doing it right.”
Char had to physically pull him from the store. Not doing it right? Not doing it right?
* * *
If the look on Jake’s face was any indication, he was just ready to slap someone. “Whoa, there, cowboy. Calm down.” She walked him to the car, feeling every inch of his muscles as they flexed beneath her hands.
“Not doing it right?” he repeated, this time in a softer voice, as if he was really trying to figure out if he’d been doing it wrong this whole time. “Char?” He looked up. Oh no. Oh hell no.
“Hmm?” She played with her hair and looked away.
“Did I?”
“Did you what?”
He was silent.
And then he cursed for a good few minutes. “You know what I’m asking.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t think I—”
“Char.” Jake walked around the car and reached for her. What she should have done was laughed off his concerns and pulled away. The smart choice would’ve also been to lie her ass off, but she couldn’t, not with him touching her like he was. Or with the full force of his chiseled face so close to hers. “Answer the question.”
With her heart slamming against her chest, Char swallowed past the dryness in her throat and answered. “You may have to remind me since the memory’s kinda fuzzy…”
He broke out into a grin. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I think I can manage that.” His hands slid up her sides.
And then her damn phone went off again.
Work.
Crap. Jake took a step away while she hit ignore.
“Something wrong?” His brows drew together in concern.
“Nope. It’s actually, really good.” She stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed him hard on the mouth.
With a groan he placed both hands on either side of her and used his body to push hers against the car. “What are we doing?” he whispered against her lips.
“Kissing.”
His tongue dove into her mouth. It was impossible to describe the way he kissed, the way he tasted. Heat pounded in hundreds of places all over her body; her nerves were on edge so that every single touch of his tongue sent shivers all the way to her toes; and even when he touched her lightly she was a puddle at his feet.
Everything he did seemed to singe her, mark her. If this was kissing, she would be ruined for all other men’s kisses.
“Are you”—he pulled back—“sure you want this?” It was the most vulnerable she’d ever seen him. His eyes were filled with need but it was more than that; it was… desire and insecurity. Her whole life she had wanted to be his security, his rock. She’d wanted the best of both worlds, friends turned into lovers, and now she felt as if she could actually have it.
“I’m sure.”
The phone rang again.
Jake cursed. “Seriously, I’m going to throw your phone into the river.”
She stole a peek and sighed. “It’s Grandma. We either take the call or suffer the consequences.”
Jake took the phone from Char and answered it, putting her on speakerphone. “This better be good.” His eyes darkened as he licked his lips.
“I’m dying!” Grandma wailed from her end.
“Are you at the house? Where are you?” Jake shouted.
“The house! Hurry!”
“Shit!” Jake unlocked the car doors and they scrambled inside.
Panicked, Char could only grip the seat as he drove and hope that Grandma would be okay. She had to have the worst timing in the world!
Chapter Thirty-nine
Jake pulled the BMW up to the house and left it running as he jumped out of the car and ran toward the front door. “Grandma!”
“Jake!” She flew out of the front door, her purse in hand. “Take me to the hospital.”
He paused. She looked absolutely fine. In fact, she had on a nice white pantsuit and her giant black sunglasses. She stomped by him and opened the car’s back door.
“Hi, Char.” She slammed the door behind her.
And then Jake saw the object of her disdain waltz out the door after her.
Petunia.
From the pinched look on her face, Jake could tell it hadn’t been a good meeting. Petunia’s oversized pink cardigan was wrapped around a turtleneck top, even though it was summertime. Nude-colored tights peaked out from beneath a long jeans skirt. The outfit was complete with orthopedic shoes.
“Oh, Jake!” Petunia giggled. “I’ve missed my boy!”
He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “Aunt Petunia, you don’t look a day over fifty.”
“Oh you.” She swatted him with her hand.
Her white hair was pulled in a knot at the top of her head; her overly large glasses slid off her nose. She pushed them up and put her hands on her hips. “She’s not dying, by the way.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Jake looked back at the car, where Grandma had just finished reapplying her lipstick and smacked her lips together.
“She didn’t have a car.” Petunia looked past him. “The rest of the gang ran out to do wedding errands, leaving just me and Nadine to our lonesome.”
“Any blood I have to clean up?” Jake looked behind her into the house. “Or broken dishes? Anything?”
“Of course not.” Petunia sniffled. “I was merely having a conversation with Nadine about her loud outfit.”
“But she’s wearing white.” Jake scratched his head, confused. “Don’t you like white?”
“It’s not the color, dear.” She pointed. “That woman is wearing red spiked heels, and when she showed them to me, do you know what I saw?”
“What?”
“A tattoo!” Petunia wailed and then crossed her heart and pulled out her prayer beads.
“It’s probably fake.” Jake lied. Right; Grandma had probably gotten the tattoo just to piss off her sister.
“It’s not! I asked!” Petunia stuffed her beads back into her shirt and sighed. “I just don’t want her to go to hell. Is that too much to ask?”
“Tattoos don’t send people to hell.”
“You’re right.” Petunia straightened. “God does, and the minute he sees that tattoo all bets are off!” With a huff she turned and walked back into the house.
Women. Rubbing the back of his neck, Jake walked up to the car and knocked on the window. Grandma lowered it but refused to make eye contact. Just pouted and looked straight ahead.
“Well, go on now.” She licked her lips. “Sass me.”
“Grandma, I’m not going to sass you,” Jake said, flabbergasted. “But why can’t you just try to get along?”
“I wore white!” She pointed her finger in the direction of the house. “And that, that woman, said I was an abomination!”
“Right. So you probably should have hid the tattoo.”
“Mr. Casbon got me that tattoo in Hawaii last winter. It was a gift. I can’t just say no to a gift.”
“Mr. Casbon?” Char asked from the front seat.
“Neighbor,” Jake growled. “Don’t ask.”
“He has a walker now,” Grandma added. “It’s harder for him to get around, though he is much more creative these days.” She chuckled. “You’ll meet him at the wedding.”
“Can’t wait.” Char grinned and winked at Jake.
“All right.” Jake opened the door. “Let me see it.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Pull up the pant leg. Let me see it.” He pointed down at her leg. “If you don’t let me see it I’m announcing it in the local church bulletin.”
Grandma gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“He would,” Char said. “Believe me, his apple definitely fell from your tree.”
Grandma smiled. “That’s my boy.”
“Up.” Jake motioned, ignoring the compliment.
“Fine.” Grandma pulled up her pant leg. The tattoo was really colorful; in fact it would’ve been a really pretty tattoo if the woman in the hula skirt wasn’t nak*d.
“Sailor Jerry,” Jake guessed.
At Char’s gasp Grandma said, “It’s a classic! Why, we had these around war time!”
“Naked is still nak*d, war or no war,” Jake said.
“Topless,” Grandma shrugged, “is not nak*d. It’s not as if I have the girls—”
“And you’re done talking,” Jake interrupted. “So what do we do? Char and I have to plan this joint party you’ve suddenly come up with out of nowhere and you don’t want anything to do with Petunia.”
With a dramatic sigh, Grandma got out of the car. “Fine, I’ll play nice. Just don’t let that, that, woman, near me!”
“Grandma.” Jake kissed her hand. “I knew we’d see eye to eye.”
“Rogue.” She winked. “You always were my favorite.”
“Funny; I heard you say the same thing to Travis not so long ago.”
She waved him off. “Yes, well, right now he’s on my shit list.”
Char burst into laughter behind them.
Grandma peered around Jake. “I know, I said ‘shit’, but it’s true. He’s been sneaking out of his room! Not to mention he’s terrible at it. He’ll thank me after the wedding night; that is if he doesn’t die first. But if he does at least he’ll die pure rather than as a sinner.”
“I think he and Kacey have already—”
“Shh, all right. I’m off to search for the vodka. I’m going to need strong spirits if I have to breathe the same air as Petunia the Prude.”
Char got out of the car and followed them. “Grandma, it’s like ten in the morning.”