Confessions of a Party Crasher

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Confessions of a Party Crasher Page 19

by Holly Jacobs


  Whenever Jack asked for the jersey, Carrie told him it was dirty and that she’d get it back to him as soon as she’d laundered it. It had been over a decade. Either Carrie had the worst hygienic habits on record or she intended to keep the jersey.

  But she looked fine.

  Relief flooded Jack’s body.

  Carrie looked a little nervous, but fine.

  After all the grisly possibilities he’d been imagining, a stolen high school jersey wasn’t much of a concern.

  “Are you okay?” Jack waltzed through the door and slammed it shut. He made himself at home, tossing his jacket on a chair and settling on the couch. He patted the cushion next to him. “You look a little green.”

  “I really did it this time,” she said with quiet resignation in her voice. “Why do I keep getting myself in these messes? I mean, I’m almost in my thirties. I have gainful employment. I got the okay on that dress for Jaycee Smith—you know, for the awards in Tennessee? It’s my first major commission. Eloise was almost more excited than I was. I was going to call you tonight and tell you. Maybe even invite you to celebrate.”

  She shook her head and sank awkwardly next to him on the couch. “I just don’t know how these things happen. I take my vitamins every day and run five miles on Sundays.”

  Jack lifted his eyebrow at that statement.

  He’d been with Carrie on more than one of her runs.

  She grinned. “Okay, I walk fast—”

  “And stop at every hot dog stand, doughnut shop, candy store on the way,” he said.

  “But I’m walking at least. And that’s not the point. The point is, I’m not dumb, I take care of myself, but I still—” He interrupted. “What is it this time?”

  She’d get to the point. Eventually.

  Sometimes Jack would allow her to meander her way around to her trouble, but he was curious and not feeling particularly patient. Carrie’s predicaments were always interesting and inventive.

  “This,” she said, pulling her robe aside with flourish.

  She plopped her legs onto the coffee table. They were covered in. . .something.

  “What the h—” Jack cut himself off just in time.

  Carrie heard the potential swearword and frowned.

  He substituted, “Heck. What the heck have you done now?”

  He could see the tears gathering in her eyes and felt a wave of sympathy.

  “I’m going to the beach this weekend to work on my tan,” she offered, as if the statement explained the goop on her legs.

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And I didn’t want hairy legs. I mean, I’m almost a blonde, for goodness’ sakes. You’d think the hair on my legs would be as light and as fine as the hair on my head. Unfortunately it’s thick and black. I shave them in the morning and by dinner I have five-o’clock shadow. It’s embarrassing. So I decided to wax them.”

  She stopped and began to dig in the pocket of her robe, sniffing dramatically.

  Jack reached in his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief.

  It wasn’t fashionable to carry them, he knew that. But his mother had always been tucking one in his pocket when he was younger, and the habit stuck. It was a handy habit with a friend like Carrie.

  He handed the cotton square to her and she gave a very unladylike honk into it.

  “So you decided to wax your legs. What’s the problem?”

  She gave a muffled sob from the depths of his once pristine handkerchief.

  “It hurts.”

  She hiccupped—a side effect whenever Carrie cried.

  “I pulled the first section off and it hurt like crazy. Now I can’t make myself pull the rest off. I’ve sat here most of the afternoon trying, but I just can’t do it.”

  “And you want me to do it?”

  Any residual worry evaporated. Jack’s lips twitched as he dutifully tried to avoid smiling. He knew Carrie would see the humor in the situation, but not until the moment had passed.

  “I didn’t think it would be as bad as the time I asked you to get my class ring for me,” she offered.

  “Nothing could be that bad.” The memory was as clear as if it had happened yesterday. Oh, he’d tried to bury it deep, but it remained firmly unburied.

  Carrie’s puppy, Muffin, had eaten the ring and the vet had told them it would eventually come out. Jack had spent the better part of a week sifting through. . . byproducts searching for it. Carrie had claimed the duty made her squeamish and her parents refused to oblige her by doing it.

  “You finally did find it,” she said in a triumphant voice. The smile she shot him almost made up for the task.

  Almost.

  “You even cleaned it up for me,” she said.

  “But you never wore it again.”

  “Would you?” Her sobs turned to laughter.

  That was the thing about Carrie; she never could make up her mind just what mood she was in. And when he was with her, Jack’s moods shifted just as rapidly.

  Carrie got herself into ridiculous situations and expected Jack to get her out of them. Then she somehow made him feel like a cross between a white knight and a court jester.

  “So you think me pulling wax off your legs will be easier than digging through Muffin’s muffins?”

  “For you, not for me. It really does hurt.” She shifted on the couch and placed her right leg onto his lap. “I think it would be easier if we just talk and you pull when I least expect. . .ow!”

  Keep Reading. . .

  I Waxed My Legs for This?

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  Not Precisely Pregnant

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  Her Second-Chance Family

  Words of the Heart series

  Book 1 Carry Her Heart

  Book 2 These Three Words

  Book 3 Hold Her Heart

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  Book 2 A Simple Heart: A Cupid Falls Novella

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  Book 2 Magic for Joy

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  Book 4 Fairly Human

  Everything But... series

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  Book 2 Everything But a Bride

  Book 3 Everything But a Wedding

  Book 4 Everything But a Christmas Eve

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  Book 6 Once Upon a Prince

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  Book 8 Here With Me

  WLVH Series:

  Book 1 Pickup Lines

  Book 2 Lovehandles

  Book 2 Night Calls

  Book 3 Laugh Lines

  Whedon Series

  Book 1 Unexpected Gifts

  Book 2 A One-of-a-Kind Family

  Book 3 Homecoming Day

  Book 4 A Father’s Name

  Valley Ridge Series

  Book 1 You Are Invited. . .

  Book 2 April Showers

  Book 3 A Walk Down the Aisle

  Book 4 A Valley Ridge Christmas

  Short Stories and Novellas

  Able to Love Again

  The Book

  Labor Day

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  Bosom Buddies


  Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes

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  Love all the books? Try a bundle or boxset!

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  Award-winning author Holly Jacobs has almost three million books in print worldwide. The first novel in her Everything But. . . series, Everything But a Groom, was named one of 2008's Best Romances by Booklist, and her books have been honored with many other accolades. She lives in Erie, Pennsylvania, with her husband and four children and two dogs, Ethel Merman and Ella Fitzgerald. You can visit her at http://www.HollyJacobs.com.

 

 

 


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