“You like me?” she asked.
“Uh-huh.” He pushed her hair from her face.
“Like, like me like me?” She giggled.
“Uh-huh.” Damn, he was hard before, but now his erection full on pressed against her. “Do you like me like me?”
“Will you go down on me in the bathtub again sometime?”
“Anytime you want.”
“Then, yeah. I like you like you.”
He smiled big. “You want to go steady?”
She laughed and dropped her forehead to his. “Yes.”
“Ladies and gentleman, she said yes.” He kissed her hard, the heat between them intensifying. This was so much better than The Price is Right.
24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Senior “Senior” Prom Countdown: 1 Day
Jase was late to work. Well, late by his standards. But Heather had made his tardiness worth the effort. Usually, he got to work before dawn, unable to sleep. With Heather, sleep wasn’t an issue. They played hard. They slept hard. Then they played hard again. And after the night he’d had with her, there wasn’t much that could ruin his morning. When he walked into his shop, both brothers and his sister were lounging around his arranging table, a half-eaten box of doughnuts in the center and a to-go carafe of coffee next to it. His heart dropped.
Early-morning family wake-up calls were never a good thing.
“Glad to see you let yourselves in.” He snagged a chocolate-frosted doughnut and bit into it, but the glazed dough held no taste. Not when he was prepping himself for whatever shit his family was about to sling.
“We needed to escape Mom.” Anna flicked sprinkles off of her own doughnut. “We figured the one place she wouldn’t look for us is here.”
“It’s like the tree fort when we were kids, but with flowers,” Zach said.
“Remember when we all sardined in there because Jase accidentally lit the roof on fire?”
“I put it out.”
“Still, when Mom found out?” Zach grimaced. “She was ma-ah-ad.”
“What’s her beef this time?” As if he didn’t already know that Heather and her fireman penis cookies were the culprit.
Zach stared him down. “Puh-lease. You’re dense, but you’re not stupid.”
“You’ve got a girlfriend taking Babushka to naughty places and making naughtier cookies. Do you need me to spell it out?” Anna continued her assault on the sprinkles. “It’s kind of fun that it’s you and not me this time.”
His sister had been through a bit of a phase in her early twenties. The good part about that was Jase had been the favorite child for a while.
“She is on a tear.” Roman tossed back a slug of coffee. “I haven’t seen her this worked up since she got kicked off the Parade of Lights committee for telling the mayor to shove his foot up his own ass.”
“Ahh…memories.” Jase pulled a stool up to the table and straddled it. “She’s pissed at Heather. She’s pissed at Babushka. I’m sure there’s some left in there for me. And I do not care.”
Because he had an amazing night wrapped up in Heather.
“What would it take to break up with your girlfriend?” Zach asked, totally serious.
No. Not going to happen. “More than Mom being pissed off, that’s for sure.”
“Can’t we just tell her that you two broke up?” Anna asked. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Heather isn’t going to want to come by the house anytime soon.”
“And by the time Mom figures out you two are still together, you’ll already be broken up.” Zach sat taller. “Actually, this isn’t a bad idea.”
Right. It was an epically idiotic idea.
“No.” Jase poured himself a cup of coffee.
“What if I tell her?” Roman asked. “If I tell her, then I get my two weeks of peace while I’m here and you all can deal with the fallout after.”
“Or we can just make sure she never finds out,” Anna suggested.
“And in a few years when Heather has her grandkid, you don’t think she’ll realize we’re hooking up?” Whoa. Why was his mind and his mouth going to kids? He was having fun with her. They were together. That was enough. Besides, Jase had played the fake breakup game already; convincing Heather to do it again would probably cost him a Mercedes Coupe S 550 and any hope of more Heather bathtub time.
Anna seemed to choke on her coffee. “You’re having kids with Heather?”
Well, not yet, but maybe someday.
Seriously, why was his mind going there?
“He’s not having kids with Heather, he can barely keep a pet mouse alive.” Roman toyed with his coffee mug.
“I’m not lying about my relationship with Heather.” Jase may be willing to change his personal limits regarding frosting on certain appendages, but he wasn’t going to lie about what was going on with Heather.
“That’s the beauty of my suggestion,” Roman said. “You don’t say anything. And as long as you don’t say anything, everyone is happy.”
Seeing as he wasn’t particularly speaking to his mother at the moment, talking to her about his relationship status wasn’t a big deal.
“If Roman tells her, then I don’t have to hear any more about penis cookies and strip-club steaks?” Zach asked. He held his fist out to Roman. “Dude, I will owe you.”
“Perfect. Problem solved.” Anna hopped off her stool. “I’m so glad we solved this.”
“You guys are idiots,” Jase muttered, clearing the box of doughnuts and coffee so he could get some actual work done.
“Yeah, well, we’re idiots who won’t have to listen to Mom rant, aren’t we?” Roman slid from his stool and headed toward the door. “And the next time you tie me to a fucking appliance, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Big talk for a guy who ended up hugging a refrigerator.” Jase wiped off the table.
Roman tossed him a one-finger salute.
“I’ve gotta head to work, too.” Zach followed Roman. “For what it’s worth, I actually like Heather. Anyone who visits strip clubs and can make a cookie look like a fireman cock is my kind of person.”
Jase pointed at Zach with the spray bottle of cleaner. “Stay away from her.”
“That’ll be easy because officially you two are no longer together.” Zach rubbed his hands together.
Jase ignored him. Whatever, he was happy in his bubble. Let his family do whatever they were going to do. His siblings were a bucket of stupid in a sea of dumbass, and he’d protect Heather by keeping her out of it.
25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Senior “Senior” Prom Countdown: 0 Days
Heather rolled another round folding table into place, pulling the legs open as she propped it on its side. Then she hefted it up into position.
The room was coming together. Prom was going to happen, and she was pretty sure this time her date was going to show. She looked to where he stood on a ladder stuffing flowers into a trellis, the defined muscles of his arms bunching as he worked. As though he felt the weight of her stare, he glanced to her, his eyes warming on contact. She still got that fluttery new-relationship feeling in her stomach whenever he looked at her like that. The little flutter of anticipation of what was coming next.
“Heather?” Velma asked from where she was ironing tablecloths. “I think we’re short a few?”
“That’s not right. I know I counted.” Heather grabbed the box of supplies and rummaged through, certain they were there.
She’d recruited Velma and Candy for help with setup. Jase had recruited Eli and Brek. They’d all been at work for a few hours already, but the tables were now set, the trellises were placed, and Jase was looping a bazillion flowers onto them.
Heather found the missing cloths in the bottom of the box. “Got them.”
“This one’s ready.” Velma began covering the table Heather had just set up.
“Hold off on those,” Jase said from his position on the ladder. “We’re going to want to mo
ve the tables a bit.”
Eli pulled off the tablecloth. “What’s wrong with the tables?”
Yeah, what he said.
Jase rubbed the back of his arm over his forehead. “They’re too close to the dance floor. If we move them about two ticks to the left, we’ll utilize the space better.”
“But then the walkers won’t fit.” Heather tried to envision his suggestion. Yeah, the flow would be better, but the aisles wouldn’t be big enough. “Forget about the wheelchairs getting through. We need the extra space between.” She moved her gaze to him. “If we move those trellises along the side of the dance floor, that’ll open a few more feet.”
Brek groaned. “Don’t do that. It took us an hour to get them stable.”
She pinched her lips together. Hard. That wouldn’t work, either.
“We could just leave the tables where they are,” Velma said from where she ironed another tablecloth. “Then everyone gets through and less work for us.”
Jase climbed down his ladder, surveying the space. “Let’s move this one to that corner, and that one over right next to the DJ.”
“But then the DJ won’t have any space around that side of his station,” Heather replied.
“Let’s just try it. It’ll work.” Jase was already tilting one of the tables to roll it into place. “Eli, grab the other one, would you?”
“Brek, would you go find a walker so we can see if it’ll be enough space to get through?” Heather asked.
“Serious?” he asked.
“She seems pretty serious.” Velma had paused her ironing.
“Hey, Candy, can you help Brek find a walker?” Heather asked her sister.
Candy paused where she was setting up the food table. “Um…sure.”
“We’re going to need to have some chairs in place, and they’re going to shrink the walkway.” Heather started setting the chairs around the tables in question. “There’s no way this is enough room.”
“It’s plenty of room.” Two of the chairs clanked as Jase flicked them open simultaneously.
“Got ’em.” Candy pushed a walker through the door—hers was the Cadillac model with the hand brakes and an attached seat. Brek had one, too, which he carried his over his shoulder. His was basic aluminum with the bright-yellow tennis balls attached to the feet.
“Okay, see if they’ll fit.” Heather nodded toward the aisles.
Brek paused midstride. “You want me to actually use the walker?”
Well, yeah. How else were they going to see if they’d fit?
“Hold on, I need to grab my phone. There needs to be photographic evidence that this happened.” Velma pulled her phone from the side pocket of her purse.
Candy pushed hers to Jase. “Why don’t you go, too.”
It was the hot-guy brigade…with walkers.
Walkers in hand, Brek and Jase started down the aisle. Two hands on his walker, Brek bumped into one of the tables. He gave Heather a there-you-go look; it was not going to work.
Crap. “I think we need to put them back how I had them.”
“No, it’ll fit.” Jase was using his walker to shove the chairs out of the way à la Babushka. “See, it’s fine.”
It so was not fine. “Jase.”
He wasn’t listening, he was too busy fitting the walker through the aisle space by any force necessary.
Her stomach twisted around the ham sandwich she’d scarfed for a quick lunch.
“Maybe we need to get one of the motorized scooters,” Velma said as she held her phone and clicked photos. “Really check things out.”
“Send Eli, I’m not driving one of those.” Brek lifted his walker and held it over his shoulder like a backpack.
“Or”—Heather rubbed at her temples—“we could just put the tables back how I had them.”
That would be her choice. Thank you very much.
“Nope, this is going to work.” Jase was rearranging chairs to only one side of the table, leaving the other side bare.
It looked very asymmetrical.
“Jase, that’s even worse than before.” Heather’s head started to throb. “Let’s just put them back where I had them, and we can finish. Then I can go get my hair fixed. And you can go do whatever boys do before a big dance.”
Jase stared at the space, clearly trying to play a game of Tetris that was not in his favor. “Let me think on it.”
Heather was torn between the desire to have Jase as her date for the evening and the desire to throttle him for being so stubborn. “I’m going to go return the walkers.”
She grabbed the tennis-ball-embellished one from Brek and pulled it behind Candy’s in an exit that was anything but smooth. The aluminum frame banged against her calves as she wrangled them down the hallway.
“Heather.” Jase was jogging behind her.
“What?” She brushed a stray hair that had fallen from her ponytail.
He put both hands on her shoulders. “It’s just some tables.”
It wasn’t. This was her prom. This was what she’d never gotten to have. This was her opportunity to share how awesome this place was with new residents. This was not just some tables. “I want it to be perfect,” she said finally.
He expression softened. His eyes went warm. He squeezed her shoulders. “Do you trust me?”
Did she? Yes, in theory. Though, not when it came to table arrangements.
“Answer the question,” he said. “Do you trust me?”
She placed her hands at his waist. “Of course I do.”
“Then go get your hair done. Let me do this for you.” He kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger there. “Do what you need to do this afternoon. I’ll be by to pick you up, just like we talked about.”
“Jase…” She couldn’t just leave her project behind.
“Trust me,” he said, his breath brushing against her bangs.
In that moment, everything in her shifted. She trusted him. And if the tables were wrong, they would still be right.
“I trust you.”
And she meant it.
The last time Jase went to prom, he got drunk on spiked punch and made it to third base with Shelby Mitchell before his mother caught them on the back patio and took the keys to his Mustang for two months. He had high hopes this evening would be substantially better. Of course it would. Heather was his date.
She’d taken off to fix her hair and change her clothes while he wrapped up everything. He’d called in Elizabeth and finished up. He’d told Heather everything was done. He’d lied. And he’d gone slightly overboard with vines, water features, and other accents. He called the revised theme “Garden Jungle.”
He hoped to hell she didn’t hate it.
The surprise mattered, and he’d needed that line of space she was so insistent on setting tables in for a few jungle-themed water features that involved koi fish and running water.
He rushed to pull on his tuxedo jacket, affixing the boutonniere he’d made to match her corsage. He’d spent way too much time staring at the dress whites he’d brought home to wear to prom. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to put them on. So a tuxedo it would be. A glance in the mirror, and, yeah, not too bad for a guy in a penguin costume. Corsage in hand, he hurried to her apartment.
He knocked. His heart rate started to kick around in his veins, like the teenager he was not. Genetic memory perhaps of all the men before him who’d stood on the other side of a slab of wood waiting for the girl they loved to open it up.
His breath caught. Hold up. He had no business thinking about words like “love.” Love was not what he’d signed up for. He didn’t do love.
He did “like” and “going steady” and as many kinky things as she’d allow. But love? His heart started to thump, ready to get in the game.
Shit.
“Hang on,” Heather called.
He hung on, engaging tactical breathing to reduce his heart rate.
She pulled the door open. Her dress was practically painted on,
low-cut light-blue satin that hugged her in all the places he’d frosted. Maybe not all the places. That would be indecent. But enough of them to make his mouth literally water and his dick want in the game that his heart was already trying to play.
Tactical breathing wasn’t going to control shit at the moment.
“Is it okay?” She shifted the strap on her shoulder.
Earlier, when she’d been helping decorate, she’d been wearing an oversized sweater and shorts that he fucking loved because they showed off her legs. Now? She’d curled the hell out of her hair and piled it on the crown of her head. He’d seen her all dressed up for two weddings—Dean’s and Brek’s. He’d danced with her both times. Thought she was pretty. Wished she wasn’t with the idiot she’d been dating.
Tonight, though? She was fucking beautiful. Because tonight she was his.
“Jase?” she asked, her expression turning serious. “Is it okay?” She shifted again, glancing down at the satin. “You’re not saying anything.”
“Wow,” he finally said. “You look…”
She was waiting for him to finish the sentence, but he didn’t have the right ending. Everything he came up with didn’t do her justice. Instead, he traced the line of her cheek with his knuckles, letting the air between them go still. Because if he moved, he’d kiss the lipstick right off her lips and then she’d probably be pissed.
“I look…?” The lips he wanted to kiss turned into a frown.
That was unacceptable.
“You look like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” There, that seemed about right.
The smile she gave him lit up her whole face. “You’re being a goober.” She glanced to the plastic box in his hands. “Is that mine?”
“Yeah.” He fumbled to open the box. “Sorry. I got distracted by that dress.”
“Do you want to come in?” She moved to let him through.
He stepped into her apartment, a line of sweat forming at his collar. Was it hot? Or was this just what it felt like when emotions took over?
Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3 Page 45