Char looked at the table.
“So.” Beth sucked on part of a lime. “That was fun.”
Char groaned and then banged her head against the table. “How am I going to make it through the next few weeks with those two?”
Beth laughed. “Easy.”
“Huh?”
“Xanax.”
“Very funny.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jake paced in front of the door. Char had texted and said she’d stop by around noon. It was officially five minutes past. Where was she? He needed to find a way to get back his job and his manhood, preferably in reverse order.
The morning had started off normally enough, with Grandma doing her damn yoga and then demanding he drop her off at her Bridge group. But even when Grandma asked for one thing, it was never just one thing. No, she’d demand you do something else, fail to give an explanation, and then look at you like you were an idiot if you asked why.
He felt like a kid again, like he had the time Grandma caught him stealing M&Ms from the convenience store and then bought him a five-pound bag and demanded he sit and eat the entire bag in front of her.
Her reasoning was that it would keep him from stealing again. Because if she ever caught him with sticky fingers, he’d either have to consume said object or wear it around the house.
In high school it had happened again with beer. She’d given him a six pack and told him to chug until he got sick. It took him three before he was puking. Naturally, Grandma had finished the rest of the pack.
Suffice it to say, it was always wiser to agree with the woman than to tempt fate. So he drove her around town, played the nice grandson, and then prayed to God she would finally hire him back so he could stop playing chauffeur and wedding planner.
Good God, he was going to turn into a woman waiting for that damn irritating girl.
The doorbell rang.
He ran to it. Then stopped and took a few deep breaths. Yup, definitely turning into a woman. He was acting like this was a first date or something! It was Char! Char! He had to repeat her name several times out loud before he was able to finally pull the door open.
Her smile lit up his dark mood and suddenly he remembered all over again why he stayed away from girls like her.
They were trouble.
They promised you pleasure and in the end wanted commitment, something any guy would run from—especially a guy like him. He didn’t deserve anything like it—he wasn’t that much of an ass to not know that a girl like Char, well, she deserved one of the good ones.
Not him. Definitely, not him.
Her eyes lit up when he smiled.
Shit. He was going to have to stop flirting with her. She was going to get the wrong idea, and he was going to lose his mind if he had to partner up with her for the entire wedding week, wondering if she was just waiting for the right time to pull a knife on him.
“Come in.” He opened the door wider and fought hard not to stare at her backside as she walked past him and her heels clicked against the marble floors. Clearly she’d been at work. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt, white blouse, and red heels.
Poor choice.
Because now he was thinking about Grandma and her stupid airport story and…
“Jake?” Char’s soft voice brought him back to the present. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“No.” He laughed awkwardly. “I was, um, just admiring your shoes.”
“My shoes?” Her eyebrows arched in amusement. “You have a thing for heels?”
“On you?” He nodded. “I think I just might.”