Jake exhaled. “Really? No tits?”
Grandma chose that exact moment to walk up. “What’s this I hear about tits?” She smacked Jake hard upside his head. “Are you able, for just five minutes, to stop thinking about sex and focus on something else?”
Char kicked his shin, and he responded with a loud, “No, I just can’t help myself. I’m a—“ He sighed heavily, feeling his shoulders slump. “Lost cause. That’s what I am. Sorry Grandma, it won’t happen again, I’ll try harder.” He clenched his teeth and sent Char a seething glare.
Grandma eyed both of them speculatively before she walked around the cake. “Something’s different.”
“Outside.” Char blurted. “It’s because we’re outside, and the light, from the uh, the light from the particles in the air—“
“—and sun!” Jake near shouted. “The sun makes the cake look…”
“Beautiful!” Grandma clapped her hands together, making both Jake and Char sigh in unison. “Well done! I knew I could trust you two.”
Jake closed his eyes and swore as Grandma clicked off. “We’re going to kill her; this is going to be it. If she finds out we did this…” He scratched his head. “She can’t find out. That’s it; I won’t be responsible for ruining the wedding.”
Char grabbed his hands. “It’s fine! Nobody is ever going to see the Tits.”
A male caterer walked by and whistled low.
Jake called after him. “She doesn’t mean her tits, she means—”
Char covered his mouth. “Let it go, just let it go.”
Feeling her fingers against his lips, seeing her mouth so close, damn, he wasn’t focused on the wedding at all, he was focused on them, on her to be exact. Without a second thought, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the house.
Grandma soon located them. “Hurry up! We have pictures in two hours and cocktails before the wedding at four!”
“Yup!” Jake said in a strained voice as he continued pulling Char up the stairs. Finally, when they reached the bathroom, he slammed the door behind him, double-checked that he’d locked it, and turned on the shower.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
He shrugged off his shirt. “Taking a shower. The way I see it, we have to get ready at some point; might as well be now.”
“But we have—” Char shook her head. “What am I saying? Why would I argue?”
Jake laughed. “Now take off your clothes before I rip them.”
“Say please.”
“Hell no.” Jake pushed her against the counter and grabbed her head. “I don’t say please, but you can damn well say thank you.”
“For what?” Char pushed against his chest.
“You’ll see.” He bit down on his lip. “It’s more of a ‘thank you in advance, Jake Titus’…”
“Not until you say please, Jake Titus.”
“I like it when you say my full name.”
Char reached for his pants and undid the buttons, slipping his jeans from his waist. “I can tell.”
He groaned. “Fine, please.”
“Louder.”
“That’s my girl.” He took her mouth in for an aggressive kiss. “Please.”
She pushed him away, this time hard enough for him to take a few steps back, but it was worth it. Damn, but it was worth it to see her strip in front of him. Would he never tire of the way she responded to him? The blush that stained her cheeks or the way her tight little body fit perfectly with his?
“Open the door, son!” Wescott yelled. “I know you’re in there! Aunt Petunia saw you and, and…” His father swore. “Char, and son, it’s not right. Things gotta change around here; you can’t just go—” His mother said a few muffled words to his father. “As your mother says, just leave the poor girl alone, you’ve given her enough grief, what with—not now, Bets! I’m trying to have a talk with my son about his prodigal ways!”
Jake leaned back against the wall, arms folded, waiting for the ball to drop.
“Son!” His dad banged on the door again. “Not now, Bets! Can’t you see I’m busy? We can’t have him ruining Travis’s special day with his—”
Everything went silent.
And then there was a lot of sputtering, swearing, and God bless her, Grandma’s loud whistle.
“ ’Bye, Dad!” Jake called.
“Uh, Son.” And that was it.
A scantily clad Char stared at Jake, her entire demeanor joyful. “So now that everyone knows we’re in here together you still want to—”