“Everyone act like we weren’t talking about their sex life,” Eli suggested.
Brek thumped him upside the head, and then she was there in the doorway and Jase was stripped raw.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize everyone was here.” Heather slid a glance between them all.
“What’s up, sugar?” Jase asked, the endearment slipping through his lips like a buttered grenade.
Brek coughed into his hand. Eli dropped his head to the table. Dean just smiled like a candy-ass.
Heather took it all in, briefly, before shifting her gaze back to him. “The afternoon deliveries are ready, so I thought I’d come over and let Ethan know.”
“He’s not back yet, but I’ll send him over when he gets here.” That wasn’t why she’d come by, though. That was a phone call Candy usually made. Not a trip across the asphalt for Heather.
“I also wanted to see which flowers you wanted to use for the prom, so I can coordinate the cookies.” She shifted from foot to foot. “I want them to match.”
“I’ll text you some pictures.” He couldn’t help but notice the way her breaths were coming more quickly than usual.
Her hair was back in its ponytail and she’d changed clothes. No apron this time, so she obviously wasn’t in a rush when she’d headed his way. “I need to talk to you about your grandmother. Have you talked to her?”
Shit. No, he hadn’t even thought about Babushka since… Negative…he hadn’t talked to her.
“I guess that’s a no.” Heather’s chest started to heave like it had when she was upset that morning. “Okay, so she figured out that we’re together. Back together. Just together. Whatever.”
Fuck. If she knew, his mother knew… If his mother knew? Everyone knew.
Heather went on, “And I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want to tell her. Yet. She just overheard…you know. She just…”
Heather had no idea what she’d just done. To both of them. There would be no escape for either, once his family knew. He and Heather would get sucked into their vortex and they’d never get any time alone.
“We’ll just step out,” Dean stood and ticked his head toward the door. “Brek? Eli?”
“You might as well stay. I mean you’ll hear all this anyway,” Heather replied.
Dean slid his gaze between the two of them, finally settling back on the stool.
“Okay. She knows. I’ll take care of it. Just…the family is going to descend.”
“I can handle that.” She nodded.
Ha. No one could handle a roomful of Dvornakovs.
“Also...there’s another thing…”
“Maybe we should step out now.” Dean stood again.
Heather took a deep breath. “Babushka wanted to move in with Morty, but I told her that’s a bad idea and she should stay with me or move back in with your parents. But she was really not into those ideas, because she’s still mad at your dad and she wants us to have our space. So I convinced her to consider the retirement home where we’re hosting prom. She’s got a tour later today and she’s really excited—”
She kept talking, but Jase couldn’t hear her over the buzzing in his ears. Her lips were moving, but he just stared at them, not really able to process what she was saying. When had his life spun so far out of control because he’d had a crush on a girl with a cute ponytail and a bouquet of erection cookies?
Oh, she’d stopped talking and was staring at him like he was supposed to respond.
“Jase?” she asked.
He opened his mouth, looked to his buddies, then back to the woman he’d committed to that weekend. He closed his mouth.
“She asked if you want to go,” Brek chimed in.
“Go where?” He couldn’t pull his gaze from Heather’s red lips.
“To take the tour with her. With us,” she replied.
“To take the tour. Right, because she’s moving out because we’re—” Jase coughed.
Awkward silence settled over the room.
“Together. That’s the word you’re looking for,” Eli supplied.
“It’s at four. If you want to come, you can. And I’ll just wait and see what you decide.” Heather was breathing funny and her cheeks were redder than normal. “I’m going to go now.”
She turned and practically bolted through the shop.
“I have no idea what just happened,” Jase said to the air she’d vacated.
“This would be the part where you go after her.” Dean crossed his arms and nodded toward the front of the shop.
And do what?
“You gonna go after her?” Eli asked in his best ten-year-old-duh voice.
Was he?
Eli started to raise from his stool. “Or I can go?”
“Every second counts.” Brek shoved a hand on Eli’s shoulder, pushing him back down.
“What am I supposed to say?” Jase asked.
“Start with an apology, that usually works for me.” Brek shrugged.
See? This was why Jase didn’t do relationships. He always ended up apologizing for shit he didn’t understand.
Eli started making a ticktock sound by clicking his tongue.
Fine, so he’d go find out what that was about without the audience around making shit uncomfortable.
He tossed off his rubber apron and hurried after Heather. What the hell was he going to say?
Somehow, he made it to the sidewalk. She was halfway across the street.
“Heather,” he called.
She turned and paused. Frowned. Then she walked back toward him.
He jogged the distance between them, stopping in front of her. “I…”
She frowned deeper.
He tried again. “This whole thing…”
She raised her eyebrows.
“What I mean is…” He fixated on her lips and the words disappeared from his brain.
In the Navy, they’d taught Jase to control his emotions. Subdue his physiological responses to stress. He could enter a room with enough dynamite they wouldn’t even find traces of his DNA. He never batted an eye. Throw him in the frigid waters of the Atlantic? He controlled his pulse to stay alive long enough for an extraction. But now? Every time he was around Heather, all the training Uncle Sam could throw at him went down the toilet. He couldn’t control shit.
She was frowning, and that was unacceptable. That he’d made her frown. So, he did the one thing he could actually think of in that moment. He kissed her. Tongue and fire and his hands totally wrecking her ponytail. She fisted her hands in his tee and held on, kissing him back with everything he knew she had.
And they were on the sidewalk. In the middle of the day.
Slowly, he pulled back. Then leaned in and kissed her lightly.
She held his stare and his pulse swished faster.
“We’re good?” he asked.
Now she smiled. “Yeah.”
“Good.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone.
“This whole thing between us is just so… I mean. I wasn’t doing this again. And you weren’t. And now we are.” She dropped her head to his shoulder.
His favorite place for it.
He rested his hand against her neck. “I’ll be by in a few hours. Go with you and Babushka to check this place out. I need to check out the space, anyway, if I’m going to decorate it.”
“That works,” she said against his skin. “You’re really okay with your family knowing about us?”
“Well, let’s not get carried away.” “Okay” was not the word he’d choose to describe his feelings, but he’d go with it. “We’ll make it work.”
She didn’t move. He didn’t move. Her hands still fisted in his shirt. “I guess I have to go back to work,” she said.
“Then you have to let go, sugar.” Now he was chuckling.
She glanced to where her hands still held on to his tee. She released him. “Right.”
His insides started to go soft. Except one specific appendage that flew full staff whenev
er she was around. Her cheeks were pink, and his dick was hard, and somehow they’d figure out how to do this so it didn’t go sideways. No one had to get hurt.
18
Chapter Eighteen
Senior “Senior” Prom Countdown: 18 Days
Heather followed behind Jase and Babushka as the director at the retirement home gave them a tour. After Logan left, Heather had found a volunteer notice and had started coming by. Turned out, she really liked the residents who lived here. They loved it when she stopped in and never got tired of the time she spent with them. When she got lonely, it was easier to come for a visit and chat with her new friends than spend the evenings alone. They were a balm to her fresh heartache—they understood loss and they didn’t downplay her feelings. And they loved her cookies—especially the naughty ones. The book club ordered them weekly.
They also loved game shows, which was a huge plus. Ever since she was a kid, watching them with her grandmother, they’d become a permanent part of her routine. She loved the unpredictability of what would happen next. The strategy. The way they could take an average person and make their life better.
“Heather!” She turned when Harry, one of her favorite residents, hustled toward her. “How’s my sweetheart?”
The retirement home was all decked out in pastel colors and a multitude of beiges. It was very subdued and meant to be calming. Harry was none of those things. He was a spry old man with a huge smile and an abundance of cologne.
She grinned. “I’m good. Bringing a friend who might want to live here for a tour.” Heather gestured to Jase and Babushka, who were listening to the spiel about how the shuttle to downtown worked.
Harry’s eyes twinkled. “Is she single?”
“No.” Heather shook her head. “She’s got a boyfriend.”
He shrugged. “Eh. At our age, that status changes hourly.”
Oh God, that’s just what Jase needed. Another boyfriend for Babushka.
“The book club ladies and I want to ask you about a cookie-decorating class. We want to change things up.” Harry rubbed his hands together. “What do you say?”
That sounded like a load of fun. “You all name the day.”
“Aye-aye.” Harry gave her a little salute and scooted off toward Babushka. Heather followed, slipping beside Jase. His hand found hers and he linked their fingers together.
And, dammit, she’d had sex with this man all weekend. But when he linked their fingers together? Butterflies danced through her stomach. She’d been out of the game for a while, so they were practically geriatric butterflies. But they still flitted, and she felt like a teenager who’d just been asked out to the movies.
Meanwhile, Harry was in total flirt mode—wide smile, freshly combed hair, animated talking. Babushka was eating it up, which didn’t bode well for poor Morty.
“You wanna see the room where we’re hosting the prom?” Heather whispered to Jase.
“Will we be alone, and does it smell like mothballs?” His breath played against her ear.
She turned so they were nose to nose. “Yes and no.”
“Then I’m in.” He unlinked their hands and laid his palm on his grandmother’s shoulder. “Heather’s going to go show me some stuff. We’ll catch up.”
“Yes, yes. I’m good.” Babushka brushed off his hand and linked her arm with Harry’s outstretched elbow.
“I’m starting to think this retirement home might not be the best place for her.” Jase glared in Harry’s direction.
“It’s this or Morty’s.”
Jase sighed heavily. “So, this place is looking better and better.”
“C’mon. I’ll show you.” Heather pulled him toward the large rec room with a bank of windows along one wall that led out to a concrete patio with potted plants and benches. An abundance of white-plastic folding tables lined one wall next to a rack of metal chairs. They would set those up with tablecloths for the dance—given that the attendees likely wouldn’t be able to stand for long periods. “I figured we’d put the DJ over there, and the dance floor here, and then snacks and punch right next to the door.”
He took it all in. “You really like doing this stuff, don’t you?”
“Well…yeah.” She did. It gave her something to do and it made people happy. “I’ve got a little dance lesson planned, too. You wanna be my partner?”
“I’m in. Name the day.” He pointed toward the patio. “What about an arch of flowers covering the doorway, and I can bring in some trellises and hang vines. We’ll do it up with lots of flowers.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“We’ll call it a write-off.”
He would do that? Her chest heaved. In a good way. “Still. Maybe stick with carnations?”
Jase made a sour face. “I run a classy shop. We don’t even let carnations in the door.”
“And you don’t mind doing this?” Heather gestured wide.
He tilted her chin up with his index finger. “I’d sell my left nut to have you look at me again the way you just did.”
She leaned up on her tippy-toes and pressed a kiss to the edge of his mouth. “I like your nuts where they are, thank you.”
He moved toward the windows, inspecting the walls around them. “Anything else you want for this thing? I’ll have Elizabeth put together some corsages, and we can bring some single long-stemmed roses.”
“I’m starting to rethink my stance on flowers.” When it was just the two of them, it felt like no one else in the world existed.
He winked at her. “Then my plan is working.”
“Vat are ve doing?” Babushka breezed into the rec room.
“Jase and I…” Heather glanced to him. “We’re…”
And just like that, when another person showed up, she turned into a stammering mess.
“Heather’s planning a prom for the residents here. I’m helping.” Jase strode back, his hand caught hers, and he pulled her into his side.
“I vill live here. I have decided.” Babushka clapped her hands, and apparently, that was that. “I vill start paperwork.” She headed toward the offices at the front of the building.
Jase hadn’t moved his arm, it was still slung around Heather, nestling her against his side.
“Are you good with this?” Heather asked, looking up at him from under her lashes. “Your grandmother living here?”
“The alternative is her living with that idiot from Blackhawk. So, yeah, I’m good with this.” Jase gave her a side squeeze. “I’ll talk to Eli, get him to do the food for this thing.”
That would be amazing, but… “We really don’t have that much of a budget, Jase. I was just thinking like cookies and punch or something.”
“He owes me. I’ll call in a favor.” He caught her stare. “You’re doing it again, sugar.”
“Doing what?”
He traced the column of her neck with his fingertip. “Looking at me like that.”
“I’ll stop.” She glanced around the room instead, doing a mental catalog of all that needed done.
Jase tilted her face back to him. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
Oh.
Well.
Oh.
19
Chapter Nineteen
Jase was working construction again, Babushka was settling into her new apartment, and Heather, Claire, and Velma were doing an impromptu let’s-dissect-Heather’s-life-choices at Velma’s place.
“I thought you were off men.” Velma settled into the white leather sofa.
“I was. But Jase and I... I don’t even know what happened, it just did.” Heather took an oversized gulp of chardonnay. “And mostly, it’s been amazing.”
“Mostly?” Claire asked.
“It’s just, this morning I was pretty sure he was going to break up with me. Like we’d had our weekend of fun and he was done.” And boy, was the weekend fun.
“But?” Claire pushed, her own glass of wine in hand.
“But then he didn’t. And he’s bee
n really sweet.” They’d gone to the assisted-living center with Babushka. She liked the place, Jase was okay with it, and she signed the lease.
“I feel like I have to be the one to say this.” Velma paused and set her iced tea on a coaster. “I just think that for your first foray back into the world of dating, Jase may not be the best option.”
Like Heather hadn’t already thought that very same thing a thousand times.
“It’s just that I don’t think this is a healthy relationship when he didn’t even want to acknowledge you to his family,” Velma continued.
“I don’t know.” Claire sat taller. “Jase isn’t Mr. Commitment, but neither was Brek. I mean, who would’ve called that one? Your relationship with him didn’t exactly get off to a great start. It took time.”
Claire made a good point—no one in their right mind would’ve expected a guy like Brek to settle down and enjoy married life. Or someone with Velma’s particularities to be all in with a guy like him. And yet? He and Velma were happy. Blissfully so.
“What we need is a strategy for your heart.” Velma was ready to make a list, Heather could feel it.
“V?” Brek hollered from the nursery where he was getting Lily changed.
“Hang on.” Velma stood and pointed to both of them. “Don’t say anything until I get back.”
Velma scooted down the hallway.
“You think I need a strategy for my heart?” Heather asked Claire.
“I think you need to decide what you really want. If you really want to be alone, then do that. If you really don’t want that, then don’t. But don’t be afraid to try with Jase.”
“I’m back.” Velma returned, baby in hand.
“And I’m out.” Brek kissed his wife and sat to put on his motorcycle boots.
“Before you go. What do you think of the whole Jase-and-Heather-getting-together thing?” Velma asked. “It’s the topic of conversation tonight.”
Brek stood, stretched, and bent down to peck another kiss on Velma’s lips. “My opinion is that I don’t have an opinion.”
Blow Me Away: A Mile High Matched Novel, Book 2 Page 14
