8. Jake
Chapter eight
Jake
I ’ve never had such a hard time focusing on a meal in my life. Not just because Charlotte’s presence across the long banquet table has my mind spinning and my body on high alert, but thanks to the fact that all I can think about is getting her alone.
I’ve dropped my fork twice now. The first time, thank god, the clatter was mistaken for someone clinking their glass for a kiss from the happy couple. The second time, however, more than a few curious glances are thrown my way.
“You okay there?” Mack asks at my side, his voice low enough that only I hear him.
“Fine,” I mutter, but my response lacks conviction, especially when Charlotte’s throaty laugh fills the air again. She seems completely unaffected by my presence, focused entirely on whatever story Maya is telling. But I’m as clumsy as hell for no reason other than I’m watching the gorgeous woman across the table tuck her hair behind her ear or focusing on how her hands dance through the air as she describes her latest audition to Levi, on her left.
The candlelight from the votives lining the table catches in her dark hair and makes her skin glow. And when she crosses her legs under the table and her foot brushes mine, the contact makes me wish this dinner would just end already. Plus, she keeps fidgeting with the thin cardigan draped over her shoulders. Every time she adjusts it, my fingers itch to strip it off her entirely.
When she lifts her wineglass to her lush pink lips, I track the graceful movement until I’m forced to look away, gripping my own glass so hard it’s likely to shatter.
“Jake, dear.” Dr. Novak’s voice cuts through my Charlotte-induced haze as she lays a hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t get a chance to say hello earlier during the rehearsal.”
“Dr. Novak.” I push back my chair and stand to greet Brock and Charlotte’s mother properly. “It’s good to see you.”
“How are things with you?” Her shrewd gray eyes regard me closely before they flick to her daughter and return to me with a glimmer of knowing amusement. “All is well?”
“Yes, good,” I manage, but her raised eyebrow tells me she’s not buying it.
“I noticed you didn’t bring a date this weekend,” she continues with a hint of a smile that’s eerily similar to Charlotte’s when she’s giving me a hard time.
“I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” I confess so fast it makes me sound as if I’m defensive about the topic.
She waves a hand toward the couples sitting side by side down the long table. “Surprising, considering the way love seems to have spread through the station like a viral epidemic.”
There’s no way in hell I’m having a conversation about love with Charlotte’s mother when her daughter is sitting only feet away, likely watching us like a reality TV show. And definitely not when an offer sits open on the table to, as Charlotte said, ‘ Get… whatever this is out of our systems. ’ So I do the one thing I hope will distract this wise mother-of-the-groom. I lean forward and shoot her my famous smile. “I must be immune.”
Dr. Novak’s measured chuckle grates on my tenuous calm, making me feel like a patient being diagnosed. “Oh, Jake,” she says, patting my arm with maternal indulgence. “In my experience, there’s no such thing as immunity when it comes to matters of the heart. Only denial and delayed onset.” She glances meaningfully at Charlotte again before adding, “And sometimes, the most resistant patients end up with the most severe cases.”
An hour later, as servers are clearing the last of the dessert plates and the older attendees are saying goodnight, I spot Charlotte in the crowd and hurry toward her. But before I can reach her side, the women, in a flock of linked arms, scoop her up and head off to god knows where.
“Damn it,” I mutter, watching them disappear toward the lobby. I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. After two years of carefully maintaining my distance, now that she’s offered to ‘ make the rumors true , ’ I want her alone more than I need my next breath. And circumstances are making it impossible.
“Going somewhere?” Brock’s voice carries a hint of amusement that makes me want to deck him. Instead, I turn to find him and the guys commandeering a collection of Adirondack chairs in a corner of the terrace.
“Was just gonna turn in,” I lie.
“Like hell you are,” Levi calls out. “Get over here. Mack brought the good whiskey for once.”
Part of me wants to tell them all to go to hell. I’ve got more pressing matters to attend to, like tracking down a certain sharp-tongued barista, who’s made it her mission to drive me crazy. But I’m the best man, and abandoning my best friend the night before his wedding to sleep with his sister surely makes me even less worthy of her than I already am. So I drop into an empty chair, accepting the tumbler Mack passes over and surreptitiously checking my watch.
“Hot date?” he teases.
I freeze at the casual question that hits way too close to home.
“He wishes,” Levi snorts. “Though I have to say, watching Jake try to maintain a truce is way more entertaining than his usual bickering with Charlotte.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I scoff, trying and failing to play it off.
“You’re not fooling anyone, brother,” Mack chimes in.
I nearly choke on my drink. “What?”
“Please.” Brock rolls his eyes. “You’ve been watching Charlotte like a hawk all night.”
“I have not,” I protest, but my declaration sounds weak, even to my ears.
“Look, man,” Mack says, leaning forward. “You’ve been dancing around each other for what, two years now? Maybe, it’s time to stop pretending there’s nothing there.”
“The best things in life are worth the risk,” Levi adds, and something in his tone makes me glance up. He’s got that knowing look he gets sometimes, the one that reminds me he’s more perceptive than we give him credit for.
“It’s not that simple,” I argue, even as his words resonate deep in my chest. “First, she’s Brock’s little sister, and let’s be honest, with my reputation…” I trail off, glancing at my best friend.
Brock snorts. “Please. You like to pretend you’re some kind of player, but when was the last time you actually slept with a woman? Last year?”
Damn, he’s right. It’s been six months, at least. For a long time after I met and lost Charlotte in less than four hours, I tried using other women to get the irresistible beauty out of my head. But after a while, the distraction lost its appeal and the thought of being with anyone else felt hollow.
Before I can respond, the terrace door opens, and the women reappear. My heart stops cold when I spot Charlotte wearing my jacket, the one she never returned after check-in. Something primal stirs in my chest at the sight. It hangs loose on her curvy frame, revealing her long bare legs, and for one insanity-inducing moment, I think she might be naked underneath.
“We’re heading down to the hot tub,” Maya announces, unwrapping her fluffy white robe to flash a glimpse of a navy bikini at Mack, who whistles low and tugs her into his lap for a lingering kiss.
Zoe crosses to perch on the arm of Levi’s chair in her emerald green swimsuit and mesh cover up. Without hesitation, he plants a possessive hand on her hip.
I catch Brock’s scowl as he watches the couples. He stands as Libby approaches, pulling her close and burying his face in her neck.
“Any chance you’re rethinking this whole separate rooms tonight thing?” Brock grumbles against Libby’s skin.
“Trust me,” she purrs, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw that has Brock’s hands tightening on her waist. “The wait will be worth it.”
I turn to Charlotte only to find her gray eyes on me. The offer hangs silently in the air between us like kindling waiting for a match. I glimpse a dark bikini against her skin through the opening of the jacket as she moves and can’t help the blood that rushes south, causing my shorts to tighten uncomfortably.
“Any chance we can join you, ladies?” Mack asks, tucking a strand of Maya’s hair behind her ear.
“Sorry, babe, girls only,” she replies, extracting herself from Mack’s embrace with obvious reluctance.
I’m on my feet, tugging Charlotte out of the earshot of the group, before I lose my chance to at least talk with her for one second. To confirm she really meant what she said and I didn’t imagine the entire conversation.
“Don’t worry,” Charlotte says in the sarcastic tone I know so well. “I promise not to drown without your watchful eye.”
“That’s not—” I start, stopping when I catch sight of the way she’s rolling her eyes. “Look, I know you can take care of yourself. I’ve always known that.”
She stills, clearly not expecting this admission.
“But I’ll never stop trying to protect you, Charlotte.” I turn to face her fully. “Even if you hate me for it. Even if you don’t need it. It’s not because I think you’re weak. It’s because I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”
“Jake—”
“And right now?” I erase the distance between us, not caring what the others might think. I’m too focused on how her pupils are dilating. “I’m the one who’s not safe.”
“So you’re considering my offer?” Her voice wavers slightly.
“Considering?” I choke out. “I’m considering whether I can make it through this weekend without losing my mind. I’m considering how you’ve always gotten under my skin in ways no woman ever has. I’m considering how one night could ever be enough.” My fingers find her hip, thumb pressing into soft flesh. “But your offer? That’s not something I need to consider.”
“Oh.” This time, there’s no sarcasm, just a soft vulnerability that makes my chest ache.
“I’ll always want to protect you, Charlotte. But tonight, when you unlock that adjoining door…” I lean down, close enough to feel her uneven breath on my skin. “I’m the one who’ll need saving.”
She bites her lower lip. And fuck me if I don’t want to bite it, too. I step back before I do something stupid like kiss her right here, right now, with an audience who wouldn’t let us live it down. Her eyes meet mine, and beneath the heat that flares in their depths, I see understanding dawn. Maybe, for the first time, she realizes this thing between us was never just about saving her or proving a point. It’s about how thoroughly she undoes me.