The dog stopped for two seconds before howling again.
“I hate Grandma,” Jake cursed.
Char stood behind him.
“Gee, thanks. How’d I go from husband to human shield?”
Char laughed behind him. “Well, we are married now.”
“Good point.”
“What are we going to do?”
The dog wasn’t moving, that much was clear, and no way was Jake going to take the risk that the dog might bite off any bigger parts of his anatomy. Stuck, he looked back down the hallway. “I have an idea.”
Ten minutes later, they were back in the tree house. Only this time they had blankets, more wine, and popcorn.
Jake reached for Char’s fingers, grasping them within his own as he looked out the window toward the river. “About your job—”
“Screw my job.” Char wrapped her arms around his neck and straddled his lap. “A job’s a job.”
“But you actually liked your job.” He peeled her arms from his neck and looked into her eyes, “You and Kacey used to do the morning news in the tree house when you were seven. Pretty sure it was your dream.”
“I liked telling stories, I liked writing…” She shrugged. “I like you more. Sometimes in life, the things we really want are right in front of us.”
Jake laughed. “Wow, am I blushing? That was a damn sexy compliment. I’m so glad you like me… Can we maybe date and then get married? Oh wait.” He slapped his hand to his forehead. “Did it kind of backward.”
“Nah.” Char touched her head to his. “Sometimes what’s backward for some is forward for others.”
Jake gazed into her eyes, promising to never let her go. “I think I like backward.”
Char smiled, her blue eyes shining in the moonlight. “I do too.”
Chapter Fifty-four
“I may die,” Travis swore. “Just so you know, I may actually die right now. It will be on the news, people will laugh; it could get ugly, Kace. I’m just saying that right now.”
“Just in case?” Kacey threw off her shirt.
Travis’s eyes went black. “Right, just in case.”
“I see.” She stepped out of her shorts and dropped them to the ground.
“Holy shit, it’s like I’m a kid.”
“Are you trying to kill the mood?” Kacey glared, putting her hands on her hips.
Travis looked away. “Yeah, so not what I meant.”
“Care explaining?”
“A youth.” Travis grinned. “Like the first time I saw you in your bathing suit.”
“Ah, the stories of your perverted teen years. Tell me, Satan—”
“Oohhh, dirty talk. I like it.”
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