31. Jenna
JENNA
I ’m idly dancing around Miles’s tiny kitchen to Michael Bublé’s “Everything,” stirring my mother’s homemade pasta sauce when Miles comes in. I don’t hear him at first, until he dances up behind me and loops his arms around my waist, kissing my neck.
“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, swaying along with me, the closeness of his breath tickling my ear.
Then, like the hidden romantic he is, he grabs my hand and twirls me around to face him, swinging me into a ballroom dance.
He swings me around, laughter bubbling out of me, then sings the song softly in my ear, pressing his cheek into mine.
I can’t say I’ve ever slow danced in a kitchen before, but now I get the hype.
Miles transports me somewhere else, makes me feel as if I am the only thing he sees, and somehow melts all of my troubles away.
When the song ends, he plants a soft kiss on my lips, and I can’t escape the sudden feeling that I’m finally home.
I belong here with Miles, dancing in his kitchen, making him dinner, and curling up on the couch with him and Pete after a long day.
I lean into his chest and wrap my arms around his torso.
“You’re home,” I say, inhaling his salty sea-air scent that seems to be embedded in his skin from living his life in the ocean.
“I’m home,” he says hoarsely, and the expression on his face turns my insides molten. He smooths my bangs back from my face, studying me carefully. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just pulls me close again, tucking my head under his chin.
This is new. Miles is extra affectionate tonight, but I don’t hate it.
“What are you making?” He interrupts my thoughts. He pulls away and walks over to a cabinet, getting two wine glasses down from the top shelf.
“My mom’s pasta and meatballs.” I smile proudly. “I was just in the mood to cook something comforting today.”
Miles walks out of the kitchen to a banquet-style cabinet in the dining area and retrieves a bottle of red wine. “Do you like Pinot?” he asks, showing me the bottle.
“I like whatever you like,” I tell him, dumping a box of rotini in the boiling pot of water.
“Good,” Miles says, grinning. “Well, I like the sound of that.” He pours two glasses of red wine and passes one to me, clinking his to mine. “Cheers to us being here together,” he murmurs.
A lump rises in my throat and I force it down with a sip of wine. “Cheers,” I whisper, then clear my throat. “Dinner should be ready in a couple of minutes.”
Miles comes closer and leans on the counter, watching me. “Speaking of dinner,” he says awkwardly.
“Yes?” I ask, smirking and raising my eyebrows.
“My mom and dad want to meet you,” he blurts out.
“If that’s not too weird for you. I mean…
I told my mom it’s a little early in the relationship…
if that’s what this is…” Miles rambles nervously as he gestures between the two of us.
He’s awkward and adorable, and my heart swells.
He hesitates, running his hands through the mop of waves on his head.
“She is just anxious to meet you,” he grumbles, and I’m sure it’s in embarrassment and not for any other reason that would normally give me self-doubt.
I’m so sure of that, in fact, that I say, “Is that what this is? A relationship?”
Miles’s cheeks flush faintly as he meets my gaze.
He licks his lips. “It is if you want it to be,” he rasps, pushing off the counter and stepping closer to me.
I’m frozen in front of the hot stove as Miles stands beside me, hooking a finger through the belt loop of my jeans and pulling me in.
“Is that something you might want with me?” he says into my hair, pressing his lips to my temple.
I turn to face him, draping my arms around his neck, and grin. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Miles?” I say playfully.
Miles rolls his head back grinning. “Well, I don’t know. Do forty-one-year-olds use the word girlfriend anymore?” he teases.
“I don’t know, I’m only thirty-five.” I grin, grabbing the collar of his T-shirt and yanking him closer.
“Oh, well, in that case. Yes,” Miles whispers. “Would you like to be my girlfriend, Jenna Rossi?”
I cannot contain the smile creeping across my face. I bite it back, but it’s no use. I give Miles’s chest a little shove, forcing him to step back. “Yes, Miles. I will be your girlfriend.”
Miles barks out a laugh and lifts me to my feet, spinning me around. “Woohoo! She said yes, Pete!” he calls to the dog who watches us from the couch. Pete barks excitedly. “We have a girlfriend! Woo!” Miles sets me down and cups my cheeks, planting an excited, wet kiss on them.
I laugh, pulling away. “And I’ll meet your parents. If it means that much to your mom, I would love to.”
“Yes.” Miles fist pumps. “It does. It really does.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling. “Okay then. Let’s eat.”
“He actually asked you to be his girlfriend? Like he is in high school?” Joy gapes at me from behind the counter as I unbox holiday lights in preparation for the upcoming season.
“Yep. And he seemed excited when I said yes.” I giggle.
Miles absolutely took me by surprise when he asked me to be exclusive with him.
I just thought we were taking things day by day.
This adds a new layer to my what do I do?
dilemma. Suddenly, fleeing Cape May with a big, fat sales check doesn’t seem so simple.
I’m not so sure I want it to be either. Maybe, I can ditch the house and keep Miles.
“Wow.” Joy smacks her lips when she says it. “I have to say, I am pleasantly surprised.” She walks around the counter and stops right in front of me, taking me in. “You don’t look any different,” she teases. “Do you feel different?”
I let out a boisterous laugh. “What? Why would I look different?”
Joy reaches out, pushing a stray hair behind my ear. “Just because you’re someone’s girlfriend now. I sort of thought you’d be glowing or something.” She cocks her head at me and furrows her brow.
“Who is someone’s girlfriend?” Leo says, barging out of the storeroom, carrying another box of LED lights.
Suddenly Joy looks as if she’s bursting to tell this new information. She hops up and down on her toes and shoots me a look that says are you going to tell him, or am I? I shrug as if to say, go ahead.
“Jenna is Miles’s new girlfriend!” Joy shrieks and then covers her mouth excitedly. “I would have never been able to keep that a secret.”
“Wow,” Leo muses, frowning. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure? Of course I’m sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Leo shrugs. “I don’t know, I just never thought I’d see the day that Miles Corbin had a girlfriend.
” He sets the box down at my feet. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s my bud, but everyone knows the kind of guy he is.
Since his divorce, he dates around.” Leo bends down and starts rooting through the box, passing lights to Joy to put on the shelves.
“This isn’t like that,” I say affirmatively. “Miles and I are different.”
“If you say so,” Leo says, laughing to himself.
“What? We are,” I say, feeling myself get defensive.
“Okay,” Joy interjects. “I’m happy for you.” She shoots Leo a look that says shut up .
“Thank you,” I say, exhaling. I crouch down next to Leo and start unloading lights.
“I have to admit, Miles is different than I thought,” Joy says quietly. I look up at her and she smiles. “I’m sorry if I seemed unsupportive. I’m really happy for you.” She reaches down and squeezes my shoulder.
“Thank you,” I sigh. “I’m happy too. It feels right, and I can honestly say, it’s the last thing I expected when I came here.”
“Well, sometimes life’s little surprises turn out to be the things we didn’t know we needed,” Leo says matter-of-factly. Joy and I simultaneously whip our heads up at him.
“How prophetic of you,” Joy deadpans.
I cackle. “Leo, I had no idea you could be so profound.”
Leo feigns offense. “Hey. I am deep, okay? I’m not some superficial beach boy with half a brain.” He scowls.
“Oh, Leo, I’m sorry.” I fight back another giggle.
“Yeah. You both should be.” He whirls around and barges back into the storeroom.
Joy chortles, holding her sides as laughter bubbles out of her. I can’t help myself, I join in, and before we know it, we’re both balled up on the floor of the store laughing through tears and trying to catch our breath.
“Okay, okay,” I breathe, pressing my hands to my aching cheeks. “We don’t want to
upset Leo.”
“You’re right,” Joy says, wiping a stray tear from her lash line.
“He wants me to meet his parents on Friday. For dinner at their house.” I gulp dramatically, but Joy doesn’t falter.
“Mr. and Mrs. Corbin are literally the nicest people in the world,” Joy says, patting my arm.“It’ll be perfect.”
“I guess so. And then on Saturday, I’m having dinner with Jake and Aunt Leona. I honestly never thought I’d see that day,” I say wryly. “It’s going to be an interesting few days.”
“You’ll be fine—you’re you.” Joy stands up, reaching for my hand to help me up too. “But more importantly, what are you going to wear to meet his parents?”