He stared the pillared entrance of the mansion, then at the expensive cars parked in the driveway. Bree’s Lexus. A Range Rover, the cherry-red Corvette Tanner Lockhart always bragged about. The mayor’s Mercedes. Two BMWs that probably belonged to Lexie’s sisters. Then he glanced at his beat-up pickup, the same truck he’d driven since high school.
Shit, he didn’t belong here, just like his pickup didn’t belong amidst those fancy ass cars.
He was two seconds from sprinting back to his truck when a car engine caught his attention. He turned and spotted Lexie Price’s shiny BMW pulling in.
The relief that pounded into him was so strong he nearly keeled right over.
“Thank God you’re here,” he blurted once Lexie slid out of the car.
Her mouth fell open. “Wow. I must be dreaming, because I think I just heard Jake Bishop say he was glad to see me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait—what are you doing here?”
He gulped. “Bree invited me.”
“She did?”
Her visible shock irked him. “Yes, she did. We’re…dating.”
“You are?”
“Stop questioning every goddamn thing I say, Lexie. Just…just walk inside with me before I lose my nerve and bolt, okay?”
“Maybe we should just bolt together,” she answered with a sigh.
Jake frowned, suddenly noticing how…off she looked. She wore her usual designer digs, a sleek black dress beneath her long wool coat, red pumps, a strand of pearls. Her hair was perfectly knotted at her nape, her flawless features boasting very little makeup. But her eyes? Bleak. Sad, even. And her normally graceful posture was MIA—her shoulders were slumped as if she had a heavy weight bearing down on them.
“You okay?” he asked quizzically.
“Not really. Which is why I’m tempted to blow off this dinner altogether.”
So was Jake, but he didn’t dare. When he pictured the disappointment that would fill Bree’s dark blue eyes if he bailed, his heart actually squeezed. No, he couldn’t do that to her, not after she’d so easily given him her trust.
“I think neither of us has a choice,” he said through a slow exhale. “So let’s man up and do this thing.”
A hint of a smile played on her lips. “Yes, sir.”
He stood off to the side as Lexie lifted the ornate, old-fashioned doorknocker. When the double doors swung open and Bree appeared in the doorway, some of his nervousness dimmed. She wore a simple emerald green dress that swirled over her bare knees, and she’d tied her black hair into a low ponytail, styled in a way that allowed wispy strands to frame her face. No make-up, save for shiny pink gloss that coated her lush lips and made Jake’s mouth tingle with the urge to kiss her.
“You came,” she said, sounding so delighted that he felt a spark of guilt for even considering bailing.
“I said I would,” he said gruffly.
Their eyes locked and the warmth of her gaze wrapped around him like a gentle embrace. Then Bree turned to Lexie. “Hey, Lexie. Your parents and sisters are already here.” She gestured for both of them to enter. “Come inside, everyone’s in the sitting room.”
As they walked into the massive front parlor, Jake realized that this was the first time he’d stepped foot inside Bree’s childhood home. White marble spanned beneath the dress shoes he’d borrowed from his twin, the white walls gleamed under the light of a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and the place boasted not one, but two spiral staircases on either side of the space, each one leading to the second floor.
After a uniformed housekeeper came to take their coats, Bree led them to a wide doorway off to the left and into a large room boasting plush off-white couches, a wet bar and a fireplace Jake could probably walk into without ducking. He wasn’t sure why they called it a sitting room—looked like a regular old living room to him—but he didn’t dare ask. Considering the size of the house, it probably featured several more rooms like this, all with various rich-people labels.
Everyone in the room stared at him when he walked in. Stared at him.
Jake had never felt so damn uncomfortable, and not even the feel of Bree’s hand sliding into his could ease his nerves.
“Relax, it’ll be fine,” Bree murmured. She turned to their audience. “Everyone, this is Jake Bishop.”
As Jake stood there fidgeting, Bree made all the introductions. Brandon and Miranda Price eyed him with visible confusion as he shook their hands. Lexie’s sisters, Ava and Alyssa, were damn near smirking at him. Tanner Lockhart was frowning. And Bree’s mother Barbara looked at him with such distaste that Jake wanted to run—not walk, but run—right outta there.
But he forced his feet to stay rooted to the shiny parquet floor. He’d promised Bree he’d make an effort, and he’d always been, above all, a man of his word.
Still, that didn’t mean he had any hope in hell that this dinner would be anything other than a big fucking disaster.