by Emma Hart
That jacket. That dress. Those shoes.
Her.
I rubbed my hand across my face as I got out of the truck. It was dark in the parking lot of the bar-restaurant, and thank fuck for that. I needed to take a moment and compose myself.
If she smart-mouthed me tonight when she looked like that, I wouldn’t be able to resist her. And shit, if she kissed with the passion she cut me down, it’d be worth the junk-punch.
No doubt about it.
“All right,” she said, smoothing down her dress. She pushed the door shut with one flick of her wrist. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’m so glad to see we share the same sentiments over this.” I stopped just outside the door. “Oh, by the way, you have to take my arm. My mother will give birth to an elephant if she sees me being an ass.”
“Then you should call the zoo, because she’s about to birth a herd.”
I sighed. “Please?”
“Fine, but you owe me.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You’re not supposed to.” She flashed me the biggest playful grin I’d ever seen cross her face and took my arm. “Are your parents…like your sister and grandpa?”
Translation: were they as unfiltered as the members of my family she’d already met?
“Absolutely. You will love them. My mother will spend the entire evening chastising me and Pops while Dad laughs, Greta tells her to lighten up, and Roxy films the entire thing.”
“Sounds like a riot.”
“Wait ‘til the oldies get the whiskey out.”
“I’ve never seen any of the old people here drink whiskey.”
“Who doesn’t drink whiskey?” Aunt Greta asked from the bar.
Here we go.
Hell had officially opened its gates.
“Great Aunt Greta, this is Jamie. Jamie, this is my great aunt.” I introduced them.
Greta peered at her with narrowed eyes. “Jamie. You’re the one keeping him on his toes at work, aren’tcha?”
I really wished everyone would stop saying that. It wasn’t fucking true.
Jamie, however, beamed the way she did every time she heard it. “Yes, ma’am, that’s me.”
“Good. You keep that shit up.”
Jamie paused, shocked. “You got it.”
“Did you tell her it’s my birthday?” Aunt Greta looked at me.
“Yes, I did,” I ground out.
“But I’m afraid I’m empty handed, because I didn’t get much notice. But I’d love to buy you a drink to wish you happy birthday.” Jamie stepped next to her at the bar. “What would you like, ma’am?”
She was such a suck-up.
Greta looked at me with an ‘ooh’ expression. “I’ll take a shot of whiskey, dear, and you will, too.”
“Greta…”
“Two shots of whiskey, please,” Jamie said, putting a ten on the bar.
The bartender nodded, took the bill, and turned to pour shots.
What had I done?
“Hooooey,” Greta trilled when the shots were slid in front of them. “Are ya ready, Jamie? Let’s go! One, two, three!”
They both threw them back. Greta barely flinched, but Jamie scrunched her shoulders up to her ears and shuddered. I coughed to hide my laugh, especially when she turned and her face was all wrinkled up, too.
Greta grinned. “Few more of those and you won’t notice it, my girl.” She waved a finger for the bartender.
“Are Mom and Dad here yet?” I asked, grabbing Jamie’s wrist.
It was close enough to her hand…
“Not yet. But your sister is, and your grandfather is telling stories about the war to the boys at the poker table.”
“Awesome. We’ll see you back there.” I steered Jamie away from her before she could ply her with another shot before she’d eaten anything.
Jamie laughed. “Wow. She’s…something.”
“That’s the most accurate explanation of her I’ve ever heard,” I muttered. “And why the hell is there a poker table?”
“I was hoping you could answer that,” she said when I released her wrist.
I caught sight of Roxy waving from the far corner. “If only. There’s Roxy. Let’s go.” I nudged her back in that direction, and she started walking.
“Hey!” Roxy grinned and squeezed Jamie’s arm when she sat down.
Oh god, was she tipsy?
This was a mess.
“Have you been drinking already?” I asked, taking the seat opposite her and next to Jamie.
Roxy leaned forward. “Yes. Greta is peddling the shots.”
“I know.” Jamie screwed her face up.
My sister giggled. “She got you already, huh?”
“She offered to buy her a drink.” I leaned back and folded my arms. “Rookie error.”
“Shouldn’t you be buying your date a drink?” her eyes glittered as she said it.
“It’s not a date,” me and Jamie said together.
“Don’t make me tell Mom.”
I stood up and kicked my chair aside. “I hate you. Jamie? What would you like to drink?”
“Pinot Grigio is fine. I can give you the—”
“Please don’t give her ammunition to tattle on me. It’s been her favorite game for years. I’ll buy it.” I held up my hand and, shaking my head, left and returned to the bar.
A different area to where my aunt was. I did not need to get suckered into whiskey shots, mostly because I had to get Jamie home safely.
I ordered her wine and myself a Coke, paid, and took them to our table in the corner. I noticed that Roxy had cleverly picked a four-seater table to stop any of our family from joining us to eat.
She wasn’t always smart, but when she was…
“Here.” I put the wine in front of Jamie and sat back down.
Roxy looked at me. “You didn’t buy your sister a drink?”
I paused, and then, “No. I’m not going to be responsible for you getting drunk before our parents have even shown up.”
“Oh, God.” She pressed her hand to her face. “Shit, they’re here. Be right back. I’m going to find water.” She got up and scooted past me, only just wobbling a tiny bit.
“Is she all right?” Jamie asked, watching after her with a twist to her lips.
“Fine. She just realized Mom will side-eye her all night if she’s already drunk. Now, quick, move into her seat, or else we’ll get blindsided by my family.”
“I can’t steal her seat!”
“Sure you can. You snooze, you lose in this family.” I moved to sit opposite her. “It’s either you move or you can stare into my eyes all night.”
“Ugh.” Jamie moved, and I bit back a laugh.
I peered over at her as she sipped her wine. She looked really different tonight, and not just because she was dressed up. No, there was something I couldn’t put my finger on exactly.
“Stop staring at me,” she muttered.
“You look different,” I said quietly. “It’s weird.”
“Is that the compliment you forgot to give me earlier?”
I dipped my head and smiled. “No. I’m still figuring out how you look so different. I’ll look at you and make you uncomfortable for a couple hours while I figure it out.”
“I’d really rather you didn’t.” She held her glass to her mouth. “Why is your aunt walking around with a huge tray of shots?”
I jerked my head around to where, shit, she was right. This entire area had been marked off for her private party, and Greta was going from table to table with a tray of whiskey shots.
“Is this what you meant when you said she’d corrupt everyone with whiskey?”
I took a deep breath and nodded as a table of elderly people at the blackjack table grabbed one each. “Yep. She’s a whiskey peddler. It’s terrifying. She can get anyone drunk.”
“So, avoid the birthday girl.”
“That will never happen,” Roxy slipped in to the seat Jamie ha
d just vacated. “I see we’re playing musical chairs.”
Jamie sipped. “He made me do it. Oh no, she’s coming.”
Thankfully, Greta’s arrival made my sister forget we’d just moved seats.
“Shots!” She put three on the table, and before any of us could say a word, she was gone.
Jamie let out a long breath. “This is going to be a long night.”
I looked over at her.
She had no idea.
***
“That fourth shot was a bad idea.” Jamie sipped her water. “She could talk a pig into a visit to the slaughterhouse.”
I laughed and leaned right back. We’d stayed in our corner table long after my parents had arrived, introduced themselves, and we’d eaten. Roxy had disappeared to play poker not long after dinner, and Greta had caught on to Jamie not taking her shots.
She’d stood in front of the table with her own until Jamie gave in.
She’d been drinking spritzers to make up for it.
“She could talk an entire farm into a visit there,” I corrected her. Her cheeks were flushed from both the alcohol and the heat, and she looked fucking adorable.
The bonus? She’d only threatened to punch me in the balls once. It was in front of my parents. My mom had laughed, while Dad agreed I deserved it.
I didn’t mean to say she shouldn’t be in my garage. It just kinda…slipped out.
Roxy came dancing over to us, pointing at Jamie with alternating hands.
“No.” Jamie held her hands out. “No. No. No.”
“Yes, yes, yeeeeees!” Roxy grabbed her hands and pulled her out of the seat.
“Help,” Jamie mouthed, looking over her shoulder at me as my sister pulled her onto the dancefloor.
I laughed and just watched as she went. Her plea didn’t last long as Roxy twirled her around, laughing her ass off. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing, either. They were surrounded by, pretty much, old people who were moving slower than a snail as they danced, and Jamie looked so awkward.
Roxy was so drunk she didn’t care, but not so drunk she was out of control. My sister was someone who didn’t really care what people thought in general, and despite what Jamie said, I knew they were total opposites.
Which made their newfound friendship a little hard to understand.
Jamie cared what other people thought.
That’s why she was here in the first place.
She cared about proving she was good at what she did.
I tilted my head to the side and watched as she slowly gave in to the music—and my sister—and danced.
Jamie cared enough that she’d come here tonight when she didn’t have to. That she’d spent the entire night with me when there were a hundred other things I knew she could have been doing.
Roxy looked over at me and winked.
I immediately looked away.
Shit. She’d caught me staring at Jamie. Now I was never going to hear the end of it from her.
“She’s pretty, huh?” Dad took the seat next to me and pushed his glasses up his nose.
“Dunno who you’re talking about.” I drank my Coke.
He laughed. “Jamie. Your grandfather has been telling me all about her.”
“You know he’s crazy, right?”
“She’s pretty, she’s got your number…”
I sighed. “If everyone in this family could stop marrying me off to the person who hated me on sight, that would be great.”
“She hated you on sight, huh?”
“It was mutual.”
“That’s how me and your mother met,” he mused. “I’d just accidentally hit a baseball through the passenger side window of her brand-new car. Two days after she moved in across the street.”
I slid my gaze toward him. “That’s a new story. How didn’t we know that?”
“Well, son, let’s face it. You can be a bit of an ass sometimes.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“So, I was saving it for a moment just like this.”
I gave him a thumb up and looked back out at the dancefloor. Both Roxy and Jamie had disappeared, and that spelled disaster.
“Someone needs to take that tray from Greta.”
I jerked my head around. Dad was right—Greta still had a tray, or rather, she’d commandeered someone to handle it for her.
“Dad. I think we’re up.”
Dad sighed, but we both stood and crossed the room to where Greta was drunkenly peddling shots to… Roxy and Jamie.
They both took one before we had a chance to get to them and stop them.
“I’ll take that.” Dad took the tray from the old guy who held it and swept it straight to the bar.
Greta held her finger up and shrieked Dad’s name before dragging her poor new friend behind her.
Roxy snorted. “I need the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” She waved at us and headed in the direction of the bathrooms.
“I thought you said she was a whiskey peddler,” I said to Jamie, half-grinning.
She pressed her hands against her cheeks. “She is. It’s crazy. She shoves it at you and stares at you and woosh, you’re a goner!”
Laughing, I handed her her purse. “Here. I didn’t want to leave it at the table.”
“Thanks.” She unclipped the top and pulled out a chain strap before doing it back up. She threw the strap over her head, across her body, and grabbed my hand. “Dance?”
“I don’t dance.”
“Neither do I.”
“I’ve just watched you for the last fifteen minutes. You definitely do dance.”
She stopped in the middle of the floor, eyebrow quirked and lips curling. “You watched me, did you?”
“Not specifically. I mean, I could see you. It’s not like you were a TV or anything.”
She giggled behind her hand. “You’re so awkward.”
I’d been called many things, but awkward wasn’t one of them.
“I think you need some fresh air.” I grabbed hold of her arms and steered her toward the back doors. “And I’m aware this is outside of your safe touching zone, but it’s for your own good.”
More laughter escaped her. “I’m fine. I’m just in a good mood.”
“Huh. That’s why I think you’re hammered. I’ve never seen you in one of those.”
She looked at me over her shoulder as she sat on one of the benches in the side garden. “You’re such a charmer.”
“I’ve been nice all night. It’s all built up, and here we go. I’m charming the panties off you.”
“I doubt that. You’ll say one thing too far and whoosh.” She made a sweeping movement through the air with her hand. “They’d be clamped on with a coded padlock.”
I laughed as I sat with her. “There’s the Jamie I know. She’s under the whiskey and dancing.”
“Careful. I’m keeping her on a tight rein.” She tapped a finger against her chin.
And I knew.
I knew what was so damn different about her.
It was her freaking hair.
“Your hair,” I muttered, my fingers twitching.
“What?” She did a double-take and touched it. “Is something wrong with it?”
“No.” My lips tugged at the sides. “It’s what’s making you so different. You don’t look like you stuck your finger in a plug socket.”
She pressed her hand to her mouth. “I can’t even be mad about that. It’s true.”
“How did you do it?” I reached over and tugged the end of a wavy lock.
“I didn’t. My best friend and mom did.” She untucked it from her ear, letting it fall over her face.
“Don’t. Untuck it. I mean.” I hesitated only a second before I reached out and pushed it back behind her ear. It was soft and smooth, a world away from its usual state, and I let my fingers run through it to the very ends.
Our eyes were connected the whole time, and my inhale was a little too sharp.
Jamie bit her lip and looked away.
“I’m hungry. Let’s get some pizza!” She jumped up faster than she should have been able to in those shoes and, with a good few feet of distance between us, looked at me with her hands clapped together. “Yes? Pizza? Yes?”
She was desperate to break the tension, and as much as I should have said no and taken her home…
“All right. We’ll even sneak out the back here, but you have to take me to a decent place.”
“As long as you promise to follow directions this time.”
“Psst. It wasn’t my fault.”
Chapter Fourteen – Jamie
We both sat on my front doorstep, illuminated by the hallway light thanks to the front door being open. I’d discarded my shoes in the car after we’d bought pizza, and Dex had undone his shirt another button and untucked it.
With the pizza between us, we ate in silence. I didn’t know what he was thinking. I’d been all kinds of tipsy before we’d gone outside and he’d tucked my hair behind my ear.
All night.
It’d taken him all night to realize that was what was different about me. Did that mean he’d been looking at me all night to figure it out? Or had he had a lightbulb ping over the top of his head?
Why did it matter? Why did I care?
Oh, because it’d felt damn good when he’d tucked it behind my ear. When he’d forced me to take it off my face, to stop hiding. When he’d run his fingers right through my hair to the tips as he’d looked at me and…
I shoved some of the stuffed crust into my mouth.
I’d known this was a bad idea, and this was why. I knew I’d see him as something more—or that alcohol would do that.
Him touching me had sobered me up in seconds. Pizza had been the best way to disguise that fact.
“So. Your family is crazy.”
Dex peered over at me, licking his fingers. “That’s one word to describe them.”
“No, seriously. I thought my family was insane, and then I met yours.”
“Your family sounds perfectly normal as far as I know. Your best friend…” He put out his hand and waved it side to side. “She’s a little sketchy.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong.
