Love the One You're With (Sex, Love & Stiletto 2)

He ran a hand over his jaw, looking half amused, half nervous. “You know, if I weren’t so damn terrified of this, this would put me in the lead in the competition. You’re being wildly dense right now.”

“Or you’re being wildly vague.”

He took a deep breath. “Ever been to Wisconsin?”

Understanding began to tickle at the base of her spine. Surely he wasn’t …

“No,” she said, relieved that she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.

“Want to?”

Noooooooooo. Grace 2.0 was having a heart attack.

So was Grace 1.0, but for different, swoony reasons.

“What are you asking, Jake?”

His hand moved just slightly on the bench so his fingertips touched hers. The move was straight out of eighth grade, and all the sweeter for it. “I want you to come back home with me.”

“Why?”

It slipped out. Grace 2.0 wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Because I don’t think I can take another weekend of my sisters and mothers harping on me to ‘find a nice girl already.’ And … because I want you to.”

“For the website?” she asked quietly.

He swallowed. “I don’t know. Can we just see what happens?”

Grace 2.0 shook her head in resignation and went to make herself a drink. A stiff one.

“Okay,” Grace said herself softly.

The surprised relief on his face was enough to convince her she wasn’t making a mistake for which her heart would pay an awful price.

Almost.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Malone house in Green Bay, Wisconsin, was charming. There was no other word for it.

Grace wasn’t ashamed to admit that her exposure to residences was limited to old-money mansions and variations of Manhattan tiny. Most of her childhood friends had lived in enormous homes with pool houses, and most of her adult friends lived in apartments of under a thousand square feet where in-home washers and dryers were about as common as polar bear sightings.

But this? This was almost clichéd in its adorableness. There were shutters and a handmade mailbox, and a fat cat lounged in the middle of the driveway, moving only when Jake honked rudely.

Even the Malone front yard was delightful. The lawn was perfectly groomed, the cheeky “Beware of Tiny Dog” sign was proudly placed, and the flower beds were overgrown and gorgeous.

In other words, the Malone house was big, and a little messy, and wonderful.

Even more wonderful was Jake when he saw his family home. He’d refused to tell any of his family members when his flight arrived, to save them the hassle of coming to the airport to pick him up, so instead he and Grace had rented a car.

He claimed this was also to give them a quick-getaway option, but she knew better.

He loved his family. Loved this home.

It had been clear the second he’d pulled into the driveway and she’d seen all the tension leave his shoulders. Seen the “city Jake” disappear from his face. Suddenly she could see the boy he must have been, running around the city, interviewing the neighbors, critiquing the lemonade stands and writing it up in the school paper …

“They’ll eat you alive, you know,” he said in response to her gushing as he wheeled their suitcases to the front door. “I thought I told you to lose the high heels. Between the kids, the dog, and my sisters, the shoes will never make it out of the house.”