by Kate Kisset
“Quick,” she grinned before nibbling his upper lip and teasing under it with her tongue. “Now, slow.” Scarlett tunneled her fingers through his hair and pulled him down on her.
Ding-dong. The doorbell startled her mid-kiss. Barking, Brady took off, his paws skidding over the bare floors.
“I don’t believe this!” Jake dropped his forehead into his hand. “What do they want now? Shit.”
“My sentiments exactly.” What is this, fifty percent off day at Forever 95?
Ding-dong. Brady bellowed furiously at the door.
Jake gave her a peck on the forehead and heaved off the couch. He made her heart flip by modestly straightening her skirt to cover her legs before offering a hand to help her up.
“I’m so sorry.” Jake sighed at the ceiling and tucked in his shirt. She followed him to the door.
“See, even when we ring the bell, they still make us wait.” Scarlett recognized Jake’s grandmother’s voice from the other side and stifled a laugh.
***
Jake shooed Brady away from his legs and let them in. “What a nice surprise.” He hoped his sarcasm was obvious enough for the grannies to notice. “Please come in.” He bowed.
“Hope we weren’t interrupting.” Wearing a full-length red gown—which made no sense, since she should have been in granny pajamas, sound asleep in her own house—ChiChi sashayed by them into the room like she owned the place. Which she technically did, but that wasn’t the point.
“Hello, darlings.” Cha-Cha, who was dressed like the Dalai Lama in an orange sarong, caught up with her sister and elbowed her. “Told you they hooked up.” She looked over her shoulder and winked at Jake. He winced.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” he said turning to Scarlett, “the timing in my family is impeccable.”
“What kind of dancing are you practicing to this type of music?” ChiChi ceremoniously held a finger to her ear. “That’s not a tango. A samba, maybe?” She grinned at Scarlett and extended a cheek to Jake. He dutifully deposited a kiss on both and gave the same greeting to his nonna.
“Come, Brady.” Jake clapped a hand to his thigh, and the dog obediently trotted to his side. “Oh, don’t worry about him.” ChiChi muttered something unintelligible and parked on the couch where Jake had just been so close, so close to Scarlett. “We have a far more urgent family matter to discuss.”
He grabbed the remote and shut off the DVD. “It was jazz, by the way, and we weren’t dancing.” He cleared his throat, hoping they’d take the hint and leave as soon as possible. “What’s up, Nonna?” he asked tightly, hoping she’d make it quick.
Cha-Cha toddled to the couch, leisurely perused the surroundings, adjusted her watch, moved a throw pillow, and finally sat next to ChiChi. Primly, she arranged her robe so the fabric draped over her orthopedic clodhoppers. “Your poor, darling auntie,” she cooed, tossing him a suspicious glance and snuggling next to ChiChi, draping an arm around her shoulder.
Jake’s antenna went up. He didn’t like the way this was going. Scarlett started to leave, and he grabbed her hand. “Stay with me,” he whispered, leading her to the other couch. When they sat, he hung onto her hand and cut to the chase.
“What’s the problem?” He eyeballed ChiChi and carefully observed his nonna. They were up to something.
“Welllll.” ChiChi tapped her knees, warily looking over at her sister. “Why don’t you give him the news?”
“Glad to, sister.” Cha-Cha nodded. Straightening, she smoothed the fabric on her lap, even though there wasn’t a wrinkle.
“It all started at the Boulder Holder this morning. We were there with Lucinda and Pricilla, getting the final alterations for ChiChi’s dance costume, which we selected several weeks ago. I don’t know if you realize it was my idea to go with the chiffon. Of course, Clovis Owens has good taste, but the first annual Summer Solstice Starlight Dance requires excellence on all fronts.” Apparently excited, she wiggled her butt into the cushion. “As you know, darling, I have a certain flair when it comes to fashion.” Smugly, she adjusted the sleeve of her robe.
“Please get to the point, dear.” It was a scold, but there was a soft quality in ChiChi’s voice.
The tiny hairs on the back of Jake’s neck shot up. He glanced at Scarlett, who looked as confused as he felt. “What is going on?”
Cha-Cha let out a clipped huff. “Well, your auntie,” she patted ChiChi’s shoulder, “was on the little stepstool, so Clovis could hem the dress we selected. The dance is only two days away…”
“And?” Jake asked.
“And I fell.” ChiChi shrugged, looking every month her age. Her eyes began to well with tears, and she leaned over and lifted the bottom of her dress.
The boot on her left foot looked like something a Star Wars clone trooper would wear. Substantial gray plastic covered her foot to her knee, and wide Velcro straps seemed to be holding the contraption together.
“I’m so sorry.” Scarlett abruptly let go of his hand and went over to the grannies. “Is it a fracture?”
“I’m afraid so.” ChiChi nodded, turning to her sister.
“Yes. It’s a fracture, all right.” Cha-Cha bobbed her head, making her tumble of gray curls bounce. “A…an ankle fracture.” She pointed to where the injury was.
“Here,” Scarlett said, grabbing a pillow on her way to the coffee table they pushed aside earlier.
“I’ve got it.” Jake repositioned it in front of the threatening-looking boot.
Scarlett placed the pillow on the table and crouched next to ChiChi. “Do you mind if I help you lift it? You should really keep it elevated.”
“That’s so kind of you.” ChiChi’s brown eyes softened. “Thank you so much,” she said softly as Scarlett carefully raised her foot to the table.
“What a lovely girl she is.” Cha-Cha’s eyes twinkled while he and Scarlett resumed their places on the couch.
A fresh gust of happy relief washed over him. Thank you, Jesus. He couldn’t have envisioned a better scenario. He had Scarlett by his side with no distractions. There was nothing on his agenda to take time away from her. No practices, no DVDs to study, or nutty Dancing with the Stars outfits to wear. And no Summer Solstice Starlight Dance brouhaha.
“Your leg will heal soon?” He pointed to the boot, swamped with guilt. Yes, he wanted out of the dance, but not if it meant ChiChi was seriously injured. “You’ll walk okay, right?”
“As long as I take care of myself,” she explained, gingerly fingering the lip of the boot. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”
“It was only a small fracture,” Cha-Cha clarified.
“Good to know.” Jake stood up, nudging Scarlett to follow him to the kitchen. “If you need help with anything, lifting, driving, whatever you need, I’m here.” For three more days. Then it’s back to work.
“Thank you, dear.” ChiChi’s voice filtered into the kitchen. “But you’re doing enough.”
“Glass of wine?” He opened the cabinet while Scarlett pulled out two glasses. “We just opened a bottle.”
“No thank you, darling,” his nonna called from the couch. “Your auntie needs her rest. We just wanted to keep you informed of the situation.”
Oh, happy day. The sooner they left, the faster he and Scarlett could pick up where they left off on the couch. With optimism in his step, Jake practically waltzed to the sofa.
Offering his arm, he assisted ChiChi to her feet. “We would stay, Jake, but we don’t want to keep you from practice.”
“Ha. Good one.” Jake escorted her to the door. “Maybe next year. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll heal in two days.”
He felt Scarlett’s reassuring presence behind them.
“You’re such a good boy,” ChiChi gushed, bringing a hand to his face and pinching his cheek. “No, you’re right, my ankle won’t heal in time, and I save my prayers for more important matters, however…”
“…that doesn’t mean you can’t dance, darling. You made a commitment.” Ch
a-Cha waddled up next to ChiChi, flashed her devastatingly cute granny grin, and winked. He hated when she did that, like he was in on some secret with her.
As much as he wanted to send them on them on their way, he rubbed his chin and then decided to take the bait. “And, why would I be doing a tango when you’ve canceled the dance?”
“Canceled?” ChiChi tutted, patting the artificial flower in her hair. “Whatever gave you that idea, child?”
“We wouldn’t think of canceling.” His nonna raised her hands over her head, making a dramatic steeple with her fingers. Her kimono sleeves fluttered. “Does God cancel a full moon when a few clouds get in the way? No.” She brought her hands down, directing a perturbed glance at him before turning to Scarlett, and then her sister. “Do the stars just drop out of the sky because they lose a little sparkle one night?”
“Of. Course. Not.” ChiChi harrumphed. “The first annual Summer Solstice Starlight Dance will go on.”
“The full moon waits for no one, so get on with your practice.” Cha-Cha clapped imperiously, revealing the general hiding under her lama robes. “We’re not letting Deidre Potter win this competition,” she snapped before opening the door. But she didn’t step outside. Instead, Cha-Cha turned and gave him a once-over.
Scarlett wrapped an arm that felt like protective armor around his waist.
“Go on, start practicing. You don’t want me to get my riding crop out of the car and assist, do you?” Cha-Cha pointed a threatening finger at her big Benz parked on the street. “It’s right there in the back seat.”
“Nonna, please.” Jake knew she was more talk than action. “I’m sorry you put so much effort into the dance.” He tried to soften the blow by lowering his voice. “And I know how much you both must’ve been looking forward to it, but it’s not going to happen this year.”
ChiChi and Cha-Cha responded with twin blank stares.
Jake sighed, a feeling of dread bottoming out in his stomach. “You’re really not expecting me to dance?” The boom lowered. He double-checked their resolute expressions for some sign of a joke. But they couldn’t expect him… “And where do expect me to find a partner at the last minute?”
Cha-Cha palmed his arm. “I took the liberty of calling your sisters. Juliana and Liliana agreed to help.”
“No way.” Jake shook his head. “Not happening.” He didn’t enjoy denying his family. However, this time they’d crossed the line. “I’m absolutely not dancing with either of my sisters.”
“Now, don’t be rash, dear,” ChiChi chided. “Your sisters only want to help. But”—she brought a chubby finger to her cheek, and tapped—“perhaps there is someone more suitable for you dance with.”
“Hmm…” Cha-Cha looped an arm through ChiChi’s. “Maybe there’s someone right here who would like to be your partner, and you just haven’t asked her yet?”
In unison, the grannies raised their brows…at Scarlett.
Scarlett’s cheeks were the color of her given name.
***
Scarlett pulled the duffel bag out of the closet and tossed it on the bed. It’s one thing to practice dancing with Jake in the living room, and another to compete on a stage in front of a crowd. She ran a hand over her chest feeling hot, bumpy stage-fright induced hives break out under her fingertips. In a flurry, she scanned the room for her purse. She couldn’t up and leave without telling Regan. Spotting her bag on the armchair, she went for it. After digging out her phone, she texted her:
Call me. Abandoning ship. Mayday. Mayday.
Dr. Huntington and her interviewees didn’t need to know about her departure. Her location wouldn’t affect the deal whatsoever. She’d rearrange her schedule to accommodate a three-hour commute on appointment days. No biggie. Plenty of people had worse drives in the Bay Area.
After tossing her phone back into her purse, Scarlett stomped to the dresser. She grabbed her T-shirts and shorts from the drawer and put them in the duffel bag.
“Talk to me, Scarlett,” Jake pleaded from outside the locked bedroom door.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Scarlett marched to the closet and pulled her skirts off the hangers and laid them in her bag, smoothing them neatly so they wouldn’t wrinkle. Sure, she was angry, but she wasn’t stupid enough to do anything that would require ironing in the future.
“Please let me in.” Jake sounded sexy…and miserable. Her eyes stung from holding back tears, hating to hear him in pain. Her head spun. She took three deep, cleansing breaths and prayed for a rational thought. After all, it wasn’t her fault he’d have to dance with one of his sisters in front of the town. He couldn't expect her to fill in. What was she supposed to do? If she left within the next half hour, she’d be home in Davis by ten.
“Tell me you’re not leaving,” Jake’s sad, sexy voice lamented. “I can hear you rummaging around in there.”
“Fine.” Scarlett gave in. There was no need to be mad at Jake…or was there? She opened the door and crossed her arms. He stared at her, looking entirely too gorgeous, considering the appalling situation. How could his grandmother and ChiChi even suggest she be his dance partner?
“I’m sorry they cornered you.” Jake glanced at her duffel bag and then zeroed in on her with an expression that demanded an answer.
But Scarlett stayed silent, pointed to the chair for him to sit, and trudged to the closet. She didn’t want to blow up at Jake, but unfortunately the steam reached maximum capacity in her brain and blew out the top of her head. She lost it.
“First, Regan invites me to stay here, and no one apparently knows about it…” Scarlett flung a pair of flip-flops on the bed. “Then she begs me not to leave because of some gangland granny situation.” Scarlett proceeded to the bathroom and checked the medicine cabinet for anything she might have forgotten.
“And now,” she called out from the bathroom, her voice echoing off the tile walls, “you want me—a person with a zillion hours of veterinary practice and practically zero with dancing—to perform in front of the community I’m hoping will trust me with their pets?” She strode out of the bathroom holding her hairbrush. “How, exactly, does that work in my favor?”
Jake shook his head. “Please don’t leave.”
Her heart plummeted again. Of course she didn’t want to leave him. Not after they were finally getting to know each other. Not now, when they were both single. Not after the way they kissed…
“And why not?” She sounded petulant and she knew it, but couldn’t stop herself.
Jake shoved up from the chair, looking pissed. “Because you should know me well enough to realize I would never force, ask, or even suggest you do anything you weren’t comfortable with.”
It wasn’t the answer she expected. “Well”—she dropped the brush into her duffel—“okay, then. Glad we cleared it up.”
“No,” he clarified, his dark eyes heated. “It’s not okay, because you’re still packing. Give me that.” Jake snatched the duffel bag, tossed it into the closet, and closed the door. “You can have it back after you listen to me.”
“I…” Bowled over by the intensity of his stare, she lost her mind for the second time in five minutes. The steam, originally blowing out of her brain, apparently switched gears because now hot condensation stirred her lady parts. To make matters worse, the bed was only a foot away.
“I haven’t finished packing yet.” She jutted her chin at him for extra oomph.
The chin-jutting move didn’t do diddly squat. It certainly wasn’t enough to make Jake back off. Instead he stormed over to her, clasped her face in his hands, and kissed her, hard. And they picked up where they left off in the couch-dance they started hours ago.
***
Scarlett rolled over and checked the alarm clock. Blinding summer rays beat through the French doors of her bedroom. It was seven. Jake’s intoxicating kisses and knowing hands kept her up until three last night. Beaming, she pulled the covers over her eyes and smashed her cheek into the pillow.
&nb
sp; He could very well be the one. Tingles tweaked every cell in her body, urging her to get up and do a happy dance. She flipped over and tried going back to sleep on her other side, but couldn’t. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she checked if her lips were swollen. Will my ten o’clock appointment know I was up most of the night with the sexiest man alive?
The smell of coffee wafted into the bedroom, and she flung the covers off. Why waste a second sleeping when the ever-loving, make-out master, sexy hip-wiggler, sensitive, sweet, Jake Martelli was waiting for her? She scrambled out of bed and was throwing on her bathrobe when her cell phone vibrated in her purse.
Oh, no. Scarlett pulled out her phone and thumbed to the panicked text she sent Regan last night:
Sent 8:15 pm: Call Me. Abandoning ship. Mayday! Mayday!
Regan DeLuca 9:07pm: What happened?!!!
Regan DeLuca 9:17pm: Don’t leave!!!
Regan DeLuca 10:47pm: What the hell is going on?
Regan DeLuca 11:07pm: Call me in the am. Don’t forget
Shoot. Scarlett’s fingers flew over the keypad, typing quickly:
Never mind. Everything is okay. Still here. Will call later. Love you. Sorry, sorry, sorry.
She tossed the phone into her purse and padded to the kitchen.
“You’re up.” With bed-head tousled hair, and wearing drawstring pajamas and a tee showing off the perfect body she held hours ago, Jake smiled a kind of smile that made her panties want to fall off. He put the spoon on the counter and came to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her in his arms. A foot off the floor, high in his arms, the correct adjective to describe how she felt hit her. High.
Scarlett was high on the Jake drug. High on his voice, his touch, his kisses, his skin, his warmth. His patience, his devotion to family. Everything about him made her delirious.
“Good morning, my little vixen.” His gentle lips covered her mouth in a kiss, immediately ramping her newly-awakened sexuality into high gear. Scarlett poured every emotion she couldn’t articulate into kissing him.