“Why? I thought Travis was going to let me—”
“Travis no longer has possession of his balls.” Char sipped on her drink and chewed her straw. “I think we can all agree Grandma has him in a vise grip. Until he gets married, it’s going to stay that way.”
“Poor bastard.”
“Tell me about it.” Char shook her drink. “If it was me and I was getting married, I’d go somewhere far, far away, or just not tell anyone.”
“Good plan. Tell Grandma after you get married, but be sure to do it over the phone so when she pulls out her gun the only thing she has to shoot it at is the wall.”
Char’s smile made a direct hit to his gut. He had to look away. “So, where do we have to go now?”
Shifting in her chair, Char sipped the rest of her drink and avoided eye contact. “Well, uh, Grandma had high tea planned but scratched it this morning.”
“Why?”
“Petunia arrived.”
“Ah! Great Aunt Petunia.” Memories of Aunt Petunia were always so warm: she knitted him the ugliest scarves every Christmas but never failed to send him birthday cards. She’d even attended all his graduations and a few of his baseball games. Too bad Grandma and Petunia hated each other. “Wait, why aren’t you guys doing the high tea?”
Char made a face. “Well, it seems Grandma has something more lively planned for Petunia’s visit.”
“How lively?”
Char didn’t answer.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Jake stood in the middle of the Pleasure Room and tried to keep his eyes focused on the lady telling him all about the party. Her lips were moving but damn if he wasn’t having a hard time paying attention. Any guy would. Damn, he was uncomfortable.
“Now.” The lady pulled out a sheet of paper. “Just put a check mark next to all the products you’d like me to display, I’ll be sure to show up early. Oh, and there’s an extra charge for costumes.”
“Costumes?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course! I thought Nadine told you on the phone! The bridal party will be in costume. She’s picked the theme: Leather and Lace! Fantastic, right?”
The lady popped her gum and winked at Jake.
Consequently, he almost swallowed his tongue. “So you’ll be bringing the costumes and then we—”
“Wear them.” She smiled. “While I display the products. People will eat, drink wine—“
“Scotch.” Jake corrected. “Large amounts of Scotch.”
She waved him off. “Whatever your preference, yes. And then people can go into rooms and have a closer look at the items, if you get my meaning.” She bit her lip and squeezed Jake’s arm.
“Great.” Char said crisply to his right. “I’ve been wanting to try the uh”—she read from the list—“Whip me pack for a really long time.”
Jake gave Char a helpless look. It was impossible that she seemed to expect him to keep a straight face. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate? Leather? Lace? Whips? He gripped the table and tried to keep his breathing even.
“Well, I’ll just leave you two to decide.”
“Do that,” Jake snapped. His teeth were clenched so hard he was going to get lockjaw.
Once the lady was out of earshot, Jake exhaled and leaned over the table.
“You all right?” Char patted his back.
“Don’t touch me.” He didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but he was literally two seconds away from losing his mind.
“Ah.” Char continued touching him, damn her. “Sexual tension. Been a long time, my friend? You feeling a bit… stressed?” Her hands moved across his back and then to his neck. He groaned.
“Enjoying the list, I see!” The lady’s voice came from the back room.
Shaking himself a bit, Jake stepped away from Char. “You pick. Just put check marks next to things. I don’t care.”
“Really.” Char slowly walked toward him. Even the metal of the counter jabbing into his back wasn’t enough to cool his arousal. “You don’t care?”
“Nope.” He lied. Oh he cared; he cared way too much.
“How about”—she lifted the sheet and read off a few things he didn’t even know how to spell let alone pronounce. “You think those would be good products?”
“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!”