Chapter 43
Scarlett
Damn Mia for being right. Not only has this dinner been just like the other ones we’ve had before, it’s even better.
Sure, I faked some confidence walking in the door but that’s my defense mechanism.
If I show everyone around me that I’m feeling confident, they won’t know I’m nervous and can’t use it to affect me.
It was actually advice that a drama teacher gave me in high school.
I wanted so badly to be in the school play but I had terrible stage fright.
He convinced me that if I simply used the acting skills I already had to play the part of the actor deserving of the role then I would trick my mind into having the confidence to play the part loud and proud on stage.
It worked and I’ve been using it in everyday life ever since.
Once we sat down to eat the conversation started to flow. Jake asked me questions and what my plans are and actually listened to my responses.
“Also, I really want to get some bees. I’ve been doing some research for years and not only will it step up my gardening game, but I have so many ideas for both the honey and the wax.
I want to learn to make chapstick and whipped honey.
Maybe if I can get good at the whipped honeys I can make flavored ones.
” I’ve always been the type of person to blabber when I’m comfortable.
Usually, it only happens around the girls.
But lately, it’s been happening around Jake.
“Oh man, whipped honey would go over so well at the farmer’s market. You should come with me next week. I’ll show you around.” I take a sip of my wine and eye him up over the rim of the glass. “I’d love to,” I say.
Conversation moves on to an array of topics.
We land on our friends and I learn that most of Jake’s besties are the older ladies that go to the aforementioned farmer’s market.
I chuckle as it does not surprise me that he’s so popular.
“I don’t know why they all just get really excited when they see me and they tell me all about their days and I mean, at first I was a little weirded out by it but they’re all really sweet.
” I pull my lips in and bite down, trying my hardest not to laugh. “What?” he asks.
“You, a tall, broad shouldered, young–in their eyes– hot male, don’t know why the old ladies flock to you at the farmer’s market?” I ask, dramatically.
“No, I mean it started with just Gwen at first but now there’s eight of them and they keep inviting me to yoga which I will not be doing.”
I can’t help it anymore, I burst out laughing. “Oh you sweet summer child, old ladies, are feral. They think you’re hot. They just have outlived the warranty on their filter so they aren’t as shy about it.”
“And here I thought they just liked my glowing personality,” Jake says with a smile. “So you think I’m hot?” he asks, taking a swig of his bourbon. I don’t know if it’s the drink or the conversation but his cheeks have a touch of pink to them and I find it adorable.
“I don’t know a straight woman on this planet that wouldn’t,” I answer, “I thought I was going to have to restrain my unmarried friends when they saw you last weekend.”
He looks shocked at this. “Tell me more about them, maybe one is my type.” He winks over the side of his glass and something flutters in the pit of my stomach.
Jake has been hot since the moment I met him.
Granted, I originally thought that I might have to defend myself from him but aside from that I immediately noticed how striking he was right away.
However, as much as looks can make someone attractive, I’ve always loved when someone can keep up with my personality.
I like to joke and sometimes men can take them and volley them right back and sometimes they get offended.
I’ve gone on dates with men that would have run from me by now.
And here Jake is, seemingly enjoying it.
“Well, there’s Mia. She’s the reason we’re all friends.
She started a book club back in college because she was tired of only reading text books and it brought us all together.
She’s like the mom of the group, she and Jonathon have been together for like their whole lives basically.
Lydia, she’s the silent stunner. Quiet, reserved, until you get some alcohol in her,” I laugh, some of my greatest memories are with Lydia.
“Andee, she’s such an inspiration. She left her dirtbag husband and moved to a small town and opened a bakery.
It’s been featured in every Colorado blog and magazine and it is booming.
Kenzie is a teacher, she teaches preschool and I literally don’t know how she handles all the chaos, let alone the secretions and whining. ”
“You really love them, I can tell the way you perk up when you talk about them,” Jake says.
“Well yeah, they’re my girls. I actually don’t know where I’d be without them.
If I’m ever freaking out, they’re there talking me down.
If I just need to vent they listen like it’s the most important thing at that moment.
When something amazing happens, they celebrate like it’s their victory.
We’re all just extensions of each other. ”
“That sounds like you guys have a lot of fun. Or get into a lot of trouble, I’m not sure which.”
“Both. Definitely both.” Jake lets out a chuckle at my admission and it’s such a great sound.
It’s one of those genuine laughs where he uses his whole belly and closes his eyes and the laughlines around his eyes show.
I’ve never understood why people are afraid to age.
Especially men. I think about the years it took for those lines to form.
They jet out from his eyes in a little semi-circle, bringing your focus back to the eye itself.
And they’re great eyes. Deep chocolate brown with flecks of gold in them.
When he smiles the gold in them glows brighter.
It doesn’t make any sense but I swear it happens.
“Well,” I begin. We cleared our plates a while ago and the alcohol in both of our glasses is gone.
“I was always taught that the chef doesn’t clean up.
” I grab the plates and take them into the kitchen.
Scraping off the little bits of food left on the plates before I rinse them in the sink.
In reality I was taught no such thing. But dinner is over and I’m trying to get a handle on what’s next on the agenda.
Not knowing the plan makes me kind of antsy and I figured I could at least keep my hands busy this way.
“Oh, you don’t have to clean,” Jake says. His eyes look a little panicked and honestly, I take comfort in that. My offering to clean up and him being a little panicked about it means he isn’t ready to let the night end. And neither am I.
“I don’t mind, dinner was delicious by the way, thank you.
I’m sure it was better than any restaurant we could have gone to.
” After the dishes are rinsed I spray out the sink and fill it with hot water and soap.
I grab a clean dish towel from the drawer next to the sink and wonder if it’s weird at all to Jake that I know where everything is.
“Well, I don’t know about that. I’m not the best cook by a long shot but I do know my way around a steak.”
Jake grabs a towel and dries the dishes as I wash them.
He stands close, his tall frame towering next to me.
I feel the warmth of his body next to mine, our arms as close as they can be without touching.
I can’t help but feel the urge to reach across the small space and meld our bodies together.
As I’m thinking about it he steps a touch to the right and ever so slightly bumps into me gently.
“Sorry,” he says, his expression looking not entirely innocent which makes me smile.
I wash the last dirty dish and realize my stalling tactic has run out of time.
After I’m officially done I walk over to the island and lean my back up against it.
Jake turns around and does the same against the sink.
There’s a beat of awkward silence and at the same time I begin to say, “So…” he blurts out, “I don’t really want tonight to end.
” He says it in a rush, letting a huff of air out with the words.
For a split second he looks unsure of himself, his eyebrows furrow slightly and his expression is full of self doubt.
It makes me want to wipe it off his face.
In a moment of boldness I step closer and reach up, standing on my tip toes in order to reach the wrinkles in the middle of his forehead.
With my thumb I smooth the skin between his brows.
He relaxes his face slightly and I feel his shoulders release some tension.
“I don’t want it to either,” I say and I let my body lean into his.
His hands gravitate towards my waist and I feel only the slightest hesitation before they land safely on my middle.
“Want to watch a movie?” he asks. I think I’d scrub this man’s floors if it meant not leaving right now so I nod my head yes and he leads me to the couch where we sit like two awkward teenagers next to each other but not quite touching, tension in the air like static electricity.
Scrolling through movies on Netflix Jake doesn’t even roll his eyes when I say, “Oh, oh can we watch Sweet Home Alabama?” I’m patting his arm in an attempt to get his attention. “I love that movie.”
“Sure,” he says. Plain and simple. No jokes or wise cracks about it being a “chick flick”.
“Really? It’s that simple?” I ask, feeling shocked at the lack of resistance.
“You said you wanted to watch it. So yeah… it’s that simple. Wait, why would that ever be difficult?” That furrow between his brows is back and I just respond, “You have no idea.”
He shakes his head and starts the movie. Before Reese Witherspoon has woken up from her beginning dream sequence Jake raises his right arm and wraps it around me. Before I know it we are snuggled up on the couch, not an ounce of awkwardness between us.