“Couldn’t? Or didn’t?”
Jake felt his face flush. “Both.” Damn, maybe he did need Viagra. What a depressing thought. How old was he, twenty-three?
“You hurt her,” Kacey’s finger pressed harder into his chest, “I cut off your—”
“Dinner!” Grandma announced, opening the door to the outside porch.
Kacey turned away and answered. “Coming, Grandma!’ Then shot a glare to Jake. “Use your imagination.”
“Finger?” He said sweetly.
“You’re an ass.” She looped her arm within his as they walked around the house to the outdoor gazebo where dinner was being served.
Jake exhaled. “So I’ve been told, over and over and over again.”
Kacey stopped walking and sighed. “Aren’t you tired of it?” Her eyes pleaded with his and for once in his life he couldn’t find his mask of indifference, the one any insecure guy used when he was trying to damn the world and live for himself. With a heavy shudder he shrugged. It was all he could manage to do. Words seemed too hard to form.
Kacey looked toward the gazebo where Char was escorted by Jace. “I hate losing, so know I’m only saying this because I love you… but.”
Jake waited.
“Love is always worth it.”
With that, Kacey leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, then walked toward a waiting Travis.
Chapter Thirty-three
Char was going to gnaw her own arm off and eat it. Was Jake’s mom trying to torment her by waving those delicious-smelling potatoes under her nose? Char had heard that Jake’s mom had a problem with talking too much, but she had no idea it would be like that.
Back and forth the spoon went as Bets talked. Over the plate, over the bowl, over the plate, over the bowl. She probably looked like a cat playing with its mouse.
Bets laughed with Kacey—dipped the spoon into the mashed potatoes and lifted to serve Char—but then was distracted by the conversation. The spoon hovered yet again over Char’s plate and then returned to its serving bowl. Char could have sworn Kacey was keeping Bets talking on purpose.
Finally, three hours later—okay, fine, it was more like twenty minutes—everyone was served and happily eating. You know, if happily eating included Grandma telling Vegas stories while Travis stared at the chicken like it was turning him on.
Char had half a mind to feel sorry for the guy; then again, he was getting married in a week. It wasn’t as if he was going to die or anything.
Jace was to Char’s right, Jake was to her left. Yeah, so that wasn’t awkward. Each time Jace’s arm brushed hers she leaned further into Jake, which made her shiver all over whenever his skin touched hers.
Drinking water had always been her nervous tic. Awkward moment? Take a sip of water. Don’t know what to say? Take a sip of water.
She had no water.
Only wine.
Which meant if she had any hope of getting through the night she’d be polishing off every single bottle on the table.
As it was, she had already had two glasses and they were only on the third course.
“So.” Jace poured her another glass. Oh dear. “Travis tells me you’re a star reporter.”
“I don’t know if I would say star…”
“Of course you are.” Travis winked from across the table. “She’s a Seattle favorite.”
“You’d be my favorite.” Jace winked.
Jake coughed wildly next to her. She elbowed him in the ribs while she kept her eyes trained on Jace’s. “Thank you. That’s sweet.”
He shrugged in an oh golly gosh way that made Char want to puke and said, “Yeah, well, it’s true.”
Char looked away and took a bite of mashed potatoes. At least the food was amazing even if the company were all slowly losing their minds. Jace said something else, but she wasn’t focused enough to care, not with Jake’s leg touching hers.
She turned her attention to Jace, who laughed and leaned in. “Sorry, it’s just that you have mashed potatoes on your face.”
His mouth was inches from hers when all of a sudden Jake jolted from his seat. “Son of a bitch!”
“What? What’s wrong?” Wescott Titus, Jake’s dad, flew out of his seat and looked around the table.
“Uh.” Jake’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “Squirrel. I thought I saw a squirrel.”
Kacey took a sip of wine. “Jake’s scared of squirrels.”
“Remind me to put one in your pants,” Char joked.
“Maybe then he could find his nuts.” This from Travis.
Bets laughed awkwardly and poured more wine into her glass and then nudged for Wescott to say something, but Grandma was already on top of things.
“Oh, I don’t know. All my grandsons possess nuts. Every last one. I made sure every one of them were males when they were born, didn’t I, Wescott?”
“I, uh…” Wescott looked to Bets and nodded his head emphatically. “To the most dutiful of Grandmothers.” He cringed and lifted his wine glass. “Cheers.”