9. Nine
Nine
Jake
I wipe my sweaty palms down the fabric of my dress pants and inhale a shaky breath, feeling like a fish out of water.
I’m beginning to think the fancy button-down was a mistake because it feels like I’m suffocating.
The only reason I even chose the damn thing in the first place is that it looks phenomenal paired with my leather loafers.
Still, I’m beginning to wonder, Am I overdressed?
Is Tessa going to take one look at me and think I’m reading way more into the situation than there is to it?
Did she think me asking her out was just a friendly way to say thanks for keeping the humiliation to a minimum the other night?
Maybe she’s expecting a casual night at the diner or a trip to the local Drive Inn.
Then again, I did tell her to wear something nice .
Fuck, now I’m second-guessing myself and I don’t do that shit anymore.
We are way past feeling insecure. Clutching the bouquet of handpicked wildflowers like it’s my only lifeline, I listen to the approaching footsteps with trepidation.
I haven’t been this nervous since the night Tessa and I made love for the very first time.
I’ll admit, I don’t have a lot of experience when it comes to dating, and I’ve certainly never given anyone the wining and dining experience.
There’s before, and then there’s after Tessa, and during neither of those periods have I ever cared enough to go all out. Women have always come easy to me. Too easy, considering I all but had to beat Jessica Cartwright off with a stick for most of my life. Tonight, it feels different. Special.
When the door finally swings open, I’m relieved to find Tessa’s mother greeting me, grateful to be given a few extra moments to compose myself.
Mrs. Davidson peers up at me from beneath the lavender headscarf she’s most likely wearing to cover her balding head.
I swallow hard as I take in her gaunt face and skinny frame but force myself to return her warm smile.
“Looking a little worse for wear, huh?” she asks before she steps forward and wraps me up in a surprisingly strong hug.
Still feels like I could snap her like a twig if I squeezed a little too hard, though, and that breaks my fucking heart.
I’m very familiar with the way the disease works.
How it takes strong, resilient people and transforms them into frail shadows of their former selves.
I watched my dad wither away until he was nothing but skin and bone, staring right through me with a faraway look in his eyes as the morphine drip in his arm turned him into a vacant vessel.
It was a cruel, degrading, and painful way to go, and I pray with everything in me that the woman in front of me won’t have to suffer the same fate.
I never want Tessa to experience the overwhelming sensation of helplessness I faced during my father’s final days.
No matter how much I may have despised Robert Nelson on a normal day, it’s impossible to hold on to that emotion when the person it’s directed at can’t even get out of bed without help.
No one should have to die in such an inhumane way.
I was the only one in the room when he took his last breath, and sometimes I still wake up in a cold sweat, reliving that awful moment in my dreams.
Shaking off the unpleasant memory, I take a step back and meet a pair of familiar, kind eyes. “You’re as beautiful as ever, Mrs. Davidson. Very Marilyn Monroe. Suddenly, I have the urge to take you for a ride in my vintage convertible.”
“Ha, still full of shit, I see.” The back of her hand hits my pec as she says this and I can’t help laughing along with her, despite the heavy feeling sitting in my chest. “You haven’t changed a bit.
It’s good to see you back here,” she states, giving my cheek an affectionate pat.
“It’s been a while since you last stood on my porch, sweetheart. ”
I cast my eyes down, ashamed for not having visited more. I should’ve called to ask how she was doing or if she needed anything when I first heard about her diagnosis, but I’m embarrassed to admit that I was too self-absorbed.
“I’m sorry I haven’t stayed in touch after…you know? It was just…erm.”
“No need to apologize, darling,” she assures me when I struggle to find the right words. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
I disagree but gladly take the reprieve she offers. Mrs. Davidson was like a second mother to me growing up, especially after my own mom passed, and I shouldn’t have dropped off the face of the earth just because her daughter and I went our separate ways.
“Teresa should be down in a few minutes. She was just getting out of the shower when you knocked. Come. Keep me company in the kitchen, would you? I was feeling energetic, something that doesn’t happen often these days, so I seized the moment and did some baking.
The peach cobbler is still in the oven, but I figured you might like some homemade chocolate chip cookies. ”
I make a sound of appreciation, and she throws me a wink over her shoulder while she leads the way into the homey country kitchen I’d spent quite a lot of time in back in the day.
There’s a delicious mix of cocoa and cinnamon hanging in the air making me feel oddly nostalgic.
I surrender the flowers and help her retrieve a crystal vase in one of the upper cabinets before I pull out a chair at the breakfast bar and make myself comfortable while I watch her arrange them into an artful display.
Once satisfied, she slips a plate of warm cookies and an ice-cold glass of milk in front of me, and just like that, the tension in my shoulders evaporates.
“So, I hear business is going well?” she inquires as she watches me devour her gooey treats with a fond look in her eye. I bite back a moan as the sweet taste of long-forgotten memories hits my tongue.
Licking my fingers clean, I wash the crumbs down with half a glass of milk before saying, “Can’t complain.
I’m juggling more contracts than I’m comfortable with and have quite a few jobs lined up for the coming months.
Should keep me and my guys busy for some time.
You know what they say. You have to strike while the iron is hot.
I don’t mind the long hours. Keeps me from getting lazy and forces me to stay in shape. ”
“In that case, have another,” Mrs. Davidson laughs, nudging the heaping plate closer to me. “Don't be shy. There's no reason to hold back.”
“Don’t mind if I do. These are delicious, by the way.
You haven’t lost your touch. Still the best damn chocolate chip cookies in the County.
I remember Tessa baking me a batch for my birthday once.
You and Mr. Davidson were on vacation, and since you weren’t there to make them for me, she took it upon herself to surprise me. Said she followed the recipe to a T.”
“And how did that turn out?” the older woman asks, eyes shimmering with mirth.
“Worst thing I ever tasted,” I say, not one to sugarcoat things. “I thought I’d broken a tooth on the first bite, they were that hard, but I forced down the whole dozen anyway. She was so proud of herself. I didn’t have it in me to tell her it felt like I was chewing on a damn brick.”
“That’s not very nice.” I wince, exchanging an oh-shit look with Mrs. Davidson before I turn toward my date, almost swallowing my tongue at the sight of her. “I poured my heart and soul into those cookies, and you’re exaggerating. You always were a bit of a drama queen.”
My eyes greedily drink her in, mouth going dry as my heart forgets its steady rhythm, before going straight into overdrive.
She’s wearing a black cocktail dress that might as well be painted on and ends just above the knee.
Her satiny hair hangs in loose waves around her bare shoulders and she’s only wearing a hint of make-up, showcasing her natural beauty.
A cashmere camisole is draped over her arm, and a pair of bright-red wedge sandals decorate her delicate feet.
It’s all kinds of inappropriate, considering I’m in her mother’s kitchen, sampling her baked goods, but my dick doesn’t care.
I give a casual shrug and try to look unaffected while I subtly rearrange myself behind the cover of the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, well. I didn’t leave any rave reviews, seeing as my stomach cramped for hours, and I couldn’t take a dump for three days straight.”
“Jake,” Tessa gasps, staring at me with disbelieving eyes while her mother slaps the cold marble and barks out a surprised laugh. I flash the older woman a self-satisfied grin and throw her a wink for good measure.
“Jake Nelson,” she wheezes, wiping at the dampness under her eyes. “You’re exactly what the doctor ordered. I haven’t laughed like this in months.”
I smirk at Tessa, who’s shaking her head but can’t quite hide her own amusement.
“Oh, don’t be such a stick in the mud, Teresa,” her mother chides. “He never had much of a filter, but I always found his blunt honesty refreshing. Besides, he brought flowers, and he cleans up nicely, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
My date rolls her eyes as she reaches for a cookie, shamelessly brushing the underside of her boob across my forearm, making my eager dick perk up even more.
She sinks her teeth into it and closes her eyes on a sinful moan, licking her bottom lip before sucking a smudge of melted chocolate off her thumb.
Judging by the smug look on her face, she knows exactly what she’s doing and enjoys every second of my discomfort.
I decide to let her have her fun for now.
She doesn’t yet know she’ll be paying for it later.
Tearing my gaze away from the tempting little minx putting on a show, I thank Mrs. Davidson for the homemade treats before I awkwardly rise to my feet, praying the thick fabric of my slacks is enough to hide the evidence of my arousal.
I place a hand on the small of Tessa’s back, ignoring the electric current shooting up the tips of my fingers, and assure her mother I’ll take good care of her daughter as I guide her toward the front door.
“I promise not to do anything you wouldn’t do,” I throw over my shoulder on our way out and smile when Mrs. Davidson’s delighted laughter follows us all the way to my waiting truck.