by Sarah Adams
“What’s going through your head over there?” Jake’s voice makes me jump.
“Huh? Oh. Nothing.”
“Not nothing. You look like you’re about to throw up all over my seats.”
I laugh, and it sounds silly and put on like a theatrical dame on Broadway. Ha ha! Oh, Jakey, Jakey, you’re too funny! But yes, I’m totally going to throw up. Nerves are overtaking me because I’m about to meet Jake’s family. I almost chickened out this morning and said I was sick, but Jo texted me before I got the chance and basically forbade it.
JO: I better see photographic evidence of your cutie little bootie in a swimsuit poolside, or I will revoke your use of my washer and dryer.
Rude. She knows my weakness too well: clean underwear.
“I’m fine,” I say, but of course my voice wobbles.
“You don’t have to be nervous. My family’s going to love you.” Really? Cause mine doesn’t.
A few minutes later, we are pulling into Jake’s driveway, and there are already five other cars parked outside, and I’m mentally reminding myself how much I love having clean underwear, otherwise I would be hightailing my butt out of there. He gets out, and I stay put. I don’t mean to stay put in his truck, but the super glue I poured on the seat before sitting down is really doing its job.
He laughs and comes around to my door and opens it. He’s not being chivalrous; he knows I’m not getting out if he doesn’t pry me out. “Come on, crazy. They aren’t going to bite, I swear.”
I hand him the brownies and slide out. My cover-up drags against the seat, and wayyyy too much leg is revealed in the process. Sure, I’m wearing a bathing suit under this cover-up, and it’s going to come off soon, revealing even more of my legs. But in a driveway where Jake is still completely covered and there is not a drop of water in sight, it feels way too indecent.
Jake thinks so too because he’s trying to hide his smile like a teenage buffoon. This is the distraction I needed, though. I slap his arm. “Can you at least try to be a gentleman?”
“I could, but I don’t really want to.”
Charlie jumps out behind me, and I think he finds this flirting between Jake and me annoying, because he grunts and then sits down right beside us, staring up with the most unamused expression I’ve ever seen.
“All right, Charlie, we’re going.” I wasn’t the one to say that. It was Jake. Which means Jake is now interpreting Charlie’s facial expressions too, and wow, this thing is getting real.
Speaking of real, Jake takes my hand and guides me into the house. We’re holding hands (we’ve never held hands before) and walking into a family event. This doesn’t feel like friendship. This feels like dating. But are we? I’ve never felt more confused in my life. I also love Jake’s hands. You would think from all the calluses that he’s a contractor instead of an architect.
We walk through the front door, and Jake drops my hand to take the brownies from me and set them on the counter. He made fun of me for putting up a big fuss to take the brownies back to my place so I could bring them over again today—that way everyone could see that I was contributing something to the party. I’m disappointed that no one is here to witness my contribution. Now it just looks like the brownies were here all along!
“Wait. Let’s go back and ring the doorbell so everyone can see me bring in the brownies.”
Jake turns around with a grin. “You don’t have to come bearing brownies for them to like you.”
“But when has bringing brownies ever hurt anyone’s chances of likability?”
In the next moment, the back sliding door is opening, and I’m out of time. I lunge for the brownies so I can hold them in front of me like a peace offering, but Jake is one step ahead and blocks the brownies. Now it looks like I’m lunging for him. Wonderful. He takes it in stride, though, and wraps his arm around my shoulder, holding me pinned to his side.
“Jake, you’re back!” says a little blonde woman in a voice that is Southern and sweet as iced tea. I don’t know why, but I did not picture Jake’s mom sounding like Jo. Probably because Jake barely has an accent. But it’s clear from her teased-up hair to her drawn out R’s and A’s that she’s as country as bread pudding at a church potluck. And I love it. “Oh, and Evie, honey! You made it!” I don’t think anyone has ever sounded so pleased to meet me in my entire life. “EVERYONE! EVIE IS HERE!” she bellows toward the back door.
I’m glad I’m only wearing a bathing suit under this cover-up, because there is definitely some back sweat starting to happen.
“Hi! It’s so nice to mee—”
“Evie!” Sam busts through the door with Daisy at her side and throws her arms around my waist.
Jake doesn’t let go of me either. So, I’m just standing here with one Broaden wrapped around my upper half and another Broaden wrapped around my lower half. And then, suddenly, ALL of the other Broadens are watching on, and I’m hyperaware of what a picture we must be painting.
“Who’s here? Oh, Evie!” says a happy, middle-aged man who comes to stand next to Mrs. Broaden and looks a lot like Jake.
There are now four other women filing into the kitchen, followed by a trail of various-aged children and spouses to look on, too. They are all saying hi and smiling so brightly, and I feel like the room is spinning. Why do they all sound so happy to meet me? And how does my name sound so comfortable on the lips of people I’ve never met before?
But when Jake squeezes my shoulder, I feel like everything shifts into place. Like one glorious line of Tetris when you can get all the shapes to fit perfectly together. He likes me. Jacob Broaden likes me. He’s told his family all about me. He’s standing proudly beside me and not letting me go.
This is the beginning of something, and I think I’m going to let myself enjoy it this time.
The introductions are complete, and I have been given a moment to catch my breath by the pool. Jake and his dad are over by the grill, tossing hot dogs and hamburgers on, and Sam and a few of her cousins are all swimming in the pool.
Turns out, Jake has the sweetest family on the face of the earth, and I had nothing to worry about. Who knew that there were people out there with families who actually love each other without secret agendas?
I pull my towel out of my tote bag and drape it over a pool chair. I find myself smiling at all the sounds of splashing and laughter. Growing up as an only child with two very pompous and career-driven parents meant the only sounds that usually filled our house were that of Daddy typing on a laptop while Mama gossiped with her other elitist minions on the phone. Exciting stuff.
“Soooo,” says Jake’s sister June as she plops down, stomach first, onto the pool chair beside me. “You’re the hottie with the body that my big brother keeps talking about.” I feel my eyes widen to the size of oranges.
Jake appears out of nowhere, standing beside my chair and towering over me. “I never called her that!” he says to his sister before looking down at me. “I never called you that.”
June huffs an offended sound. “So, you’re saying she doesn’t have a hot body? How rude, Jake.”
He gives June a look, and now I’m stuck between two siblings in a game of monkey in the middle. “Cut it out, June.”
“You’re not helping your case here, big brother. Evie is going to leave today, completely dejected, thinking you hate her body.”
I’m struggling so hard to keep a laugh from bursting out of me.
“She’s not going to think that.” I like the way Jake’s face is turning the tiniest bit pink, and I wonder if I can push it over the top to red.
I give him a pouty look and decide Jake needs to be the one in the middle now. “I don’t know. I might think that.”
He’s glaring at me but clearly trying not to grin. “Fine, I’ll give. Evie…you…you’ve got a hot body.” BINGO. Jacob Broaden is capable of turning bright red, folks!
I laugh, enjoying the feeling of victory far too much. Jake just rolls his eyes and goes back to the grill with
his daddy.
“He’s too easy to mess with,” June says, shaking her head with a smile while watching her brother walk away. I like her. She’s spunky and a little crazy in the best kind of way. And she has a really cute watercolor flower tattoo capping her shoulder that makes me wonder if I would look as cute as her with one? Probably not. And I really don’t like needles, so I dismiss the thought instantly.
“So, are you guys dating?”
My eyes shoot to June, and I must look like a deer in the headlights, because she laughs. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“No. It’s not that I don’t want to answer. It’s just…I don’t know how to answer it.” I fish around in my tote bag for my sunscreen to give my hands something to do. “I think Jake and I are just friends.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s never talked about any of his friends like he’s been talking about you lately.” Wow. Okay. Not sure what to do with that statement other than try to hide the wings I just sprouted from that surge of joy.
“Oh. Well…” I laugh and shrug, letting the conversation dangle out on the line because I really don’t think I should be having a DTR conversation with Jake’s sister before I have one with him.
“What are we talking about, ladies?” Mrs. Broaden rounds our pool chairs in her sunflower-printed kimono, gives June a little pat on her bikini-clad rear end like affectionate mamas are known to do and then takes the third seat beside us.
“Just trying to figure out if Jake and Evie are dating or not.”
“What!” says Mrs. Broaden so loudly I think the whole neighborhood heard her. All of Jake’s sisters definitely did, because now they are swarming me like a gam of sharks. “Honey, of course you’re dating. He brought you around us, didn’t he?” says Mrs. Broaden.
“Oh, well, I—”
Jake’s oldest sister, Jennie, squats down beside my chair. “Isn’t he taking you to a benefit or something in a few weeks? If you’re making plans that far in advance, you’re definitely dating.”
I open my mouth, but it’s useless because yet another sister, Julia (Mr. and Mrs. Broaden apparently have a thing for J’s), leans over the back of my chair and says, “I don’t know. Jake is pretty friendly in general. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything that he asked her to the benefit. I can totally see him thinking this is nothing but a friendship thing.”
Do I even need to be here for this?
June sits up and crosses her legs. “Have you guys made out yet? That would totally help us figure out his intentions.” HA. What?!
I’m definitely sweating. I’m also wondering if it would be wrong to fake a seizure right now to get out of this conversation. Psstt, Charlie! What are you thinking, lounging over there in the shade at a time like this?!
“All right, all right. Everyone shoo,” says Mrs. Broaden, riding in on her white horse. Forget Jake and Charlie; she is my new knight in shining armor. “Evie doesn’t want all these questions, and our meddlin’ is going to do nothing but scare the poor girl away. Go play with your children in the pool and let her catch her breath.” She’s waving them away, and they all disperse.
“So, Evie, you’re the one I get to thank for bringing some happiness back into my son and granddaughter’s life.”
“I can’t take that credit. That’s all Daisy’s doing.”
“Oh really? And did Miss Daisy stay over last night and teach my Sammie how to make brownies? Did Daisy convince Jake to have a little more fun in his life and throw a pool party?”
I laugh. “Jake’s quite the sharer, isn’t he?”
“Actually, no. Jake’s pretty private about his life. But Sam is an open book, and she and I talk every night on the phone. She’s been keeping me apprised of all things Evie Jones.” Her smile turns a little more serious. “She really likes you. And my Sammie is a good judge of character.”
“I think Sam is pretty amazing, too.”
We are both quiet for a moment, and I decide I need something to do, so I peel off my cover-up, revealing my bright-yellow, polka dot, high-waisted bikini and start applying sunblock to my arms and legs. Jo made fun of me when I picked this swimsuit out in the store, saying that she owns sexier swimsuits than this one, but I don’t care. I like it. It’s cute and sporty, and I don’t have to worry about all my parts falling out during a game of water volleyball.
Yes, I know…I’m once again pretending that I have big enough parts to fall out of something, but just let me dream.
Mrs. Jones—or Bonnie as I’ve now been bid to call her—and I spend the next five minutes shooting the breeze and getting to know each other. No, not true…she only wants to talk about me. But I like her. I like her a lot, so I answer all of her questions. She’s encouraging and cheerful, and I think she and Jo would hit it off right away if they ever get to meet one day.
When the conversation winds down, though, she throws me a curve ball. “Your mama must be so proud of you, Evie. You’re quite a woman.”
I have to look away as soon as she says those words, because I can feel tears pooling in my eyes, and this is SO not the place to start crying.
My emotions are sent on a rollercoaster, however, when I turn my head in just enough time to see a bare-chested man with a gorgeous six pack and tan, defined shoulders running up beside me. I only have time to blink at the vision of sexy masculinity rushing up to me before Jake’s arms go under me and scoop me out of my chair.
I scream and kick like a little girl as he jogs us toward the pool. Umm, hello! Have you never heard of the no-running rule at the pool?! But I’m not concerned about my safety. I want him to slow down so I can savor the feel of his warm skin against mine.
“What are you doing?!” I yell.
“This is payback, Evie Jones,” says Jake before he jumps off the side and plunges us both in the pool.
Chapter Nineteen
JAKE
Evie is lounging beside the pool like a golden, suntanned goddess. The funny thing is, she doesn’t even realize she’s this beautiful, and she’s definitely not trying to be sexy. I know it because most women angle themselves so that their abs are contracted and their legs look like they are barely putting any weight on them to look slimmer. Not Evie. In fact, she’s put her oversized shirt back on and added a straw visor and big sunglasses. She is an ad for skin health at a dermatologist's office, and I swear I’ll buy anything she’s selling.
The best part of Evie: she’s laughing. She’s always laughing. Her smile lights up her whole face in a way that looks like she might explode from joy. She’s talking to June right now about a date that June went on last week. I was hanging out nearby until my baby sister started talking about the guy kissing like a slimy wet fish and I decided it was time to go.
But the weird thing is, Evie fits here. My family gave her the ultimate hazing of no personal space and a rousing game of a hundred questions right out of the gate, and Evie accepted it all with that adorable dimpled smile of hers. I don’t want to be that guy who’s constantly comparing every woman he spends time with to his ex-wife, but I can’t help it. The picture is a stark contrast.
Natalie never fit in with my family. She didn’t like them. She thought June was childish and that everyone else was too involved in our life. I don’t remember the last time we had a pool party like this, because honestly, Natalie wouldn’t have wanted to spend the afternoon with my family. In the interest of making my marriage work, I went along with it. I had lunch with my parents by myself most Sundays, and for holidays, we got in and out of family functions as fast as possible.
I’ve missed them in my life, and I can’t help but notice that I don’t miss Natalie one bit.
“Well, I think this pool party was a success, Jakey,” says my mom, using my shoulder to help her sit down beside me on the edge of the pool. My mom is cute. She’s about five foot tall standing on her tiptoes, has the voice of Paula Dean, and her personality is like a shot of Fireball Whisky mixed with sunshine.
“You think? I�
��m glad. And I’m glad you guys could come.”
Evie’s voice carries across the pool and distracts me. “Sam! When’s the last time you put on sunscreen, darlin’?”
Sam pauses her descent down the pool steps and looks over to Evie. “Oh. Not since this morning.”
“Come over here and let me lather you back up before you turn into the world's cutest lobster.”
I watch my daughter smile from ear to ear and then rush back up the steps to go perch in front of Evie on the lounge chair. Evie’s sitting cross-legged now, smiling and talking away to my sister while thoroughly applying sunscreen to my daughter’s back. I’m mesmerized by this scene. I couldn’t look away if I tried.
I am the person who loves Sam the most in this world…and I forgot to reapply sunscreen to her back. But Evie remembered. What does that mean? It feels significant.
My mom leans close to me, and from the corner of my eye, I can see her smile. “I think you found a good one.”
I take in a deep breath. “Yeah. I’ve thought that before, though.”
“True. But you were just a kid back then when you met Natalie. You didn’t know the first thing to look for in a woman besides her bra size.”
I grimace. “That was disturbing to hear. You’re starting to sound like June.”
She chuckles and rolls her eyes. “You kids think I’m so out of touch, but I’ll have you know that I watch The Bachelor every week.” She says it like that fact in itself should knock fifteen years off her age. “But that’s not the point. The fact is, you’re a grown man now who’s lived a lot of life, and you know what kinda woman it’s gonna take to hold your hand through the rest of it.” She pats my back and then shimmies off the edge of the pool into the water to go swim by my dad who, at this moment, has approximately five grandkids leached onto him in the shallow end.
