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The chef starts barking orders. The staff groans, but everyone gets to their feet and soon the kitchen is chaos once again.
Jake’s big body shadows mine as he comes to stand right in front of me. “It seems you’ve bewitched my Grandfather.”
I shrug. “Bewitching is what I do.”
“Since when are the two of you best friends?”
“Since I finally convinced him I wasn’t Miss Sims and he learned the error of his ways and apologized to me.”
“Bullshit.”
“Cross my heart.” I cross my heart.
He helps me to stand and his hands fall to my hips. He studies me with a soft expression. I look up at him. At those lips. Wondering if he will kiss me. Suddenly needing it so bad I almost ask for it. His eyes follow his hand as he lifts it to my face and tucks back a loose strand of hair before he feathers his thumb across my temple.
“What am I going to do with you, Penelope Hart?”
Fuck me.
Love me.
Marry me.
Feed me chicken wings….
I swallow hard. “I have a few ideas.”
“I have a few of my own, baby.”
I’m not sure if it’s his words, how he whispered them, the softness in his eyes, the fact that he just called me baby—the most original, yet swooniest endearment ever—or the gentleness of his touch that has me feeling tingly all over. Like I have Pop Rocks in my veins. The back of my ears tickle. A heavy warmth weighs in my chest. Yet there’s this hollow ache I can’t describe. It’s one thing to be turned on by him sexually. This…this is something different.
I like it.
But I don’t like that I like it.
Loud applause and cheers can be heard from the ballroom. Jake blinks and the mist in his gray/green/blue eyes fades.
“We need to get back to the party.”
He takes the beer from my fingers and tucks my hand in the crook of his arm. I spend the entire walk trying to distract myself from the feeling. I do this by thinking about turtles.
Snapping turtles.
Sea turtles.
Box turtles.
Ninja Turtles.
Turtles in a half shell.
“Turtle power!”
Fuck. Me.
“What is it about this hallway that makes you say stupid shit?” Jake asks, never slowing stride as he stares down at me with that you’re-out-of-your-fucking-mind look.
“You try not chanting the song when you think about Ninja Turtles.”
“I don’t have to. Because I don’t think about Ninja Turtles. Or any of that other random shit in your pretty little head.”
I gaze up at him and smile. “You think I’m pretty?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You said my head was pretty.”
“Well it better be for the amount of money David Michael charges.” He opens the door to the ballroom before I can respond.
Pee Paw’s voice commands the entire room. Deep and strong. His words smooth. Confident. Powerful. The speech is more than a thank you or a farewell. It’s a testimony to greatness. A promise that anything is possible with a little patience and a lot of hard work.
Shit’s good.
When he thanks the entire room for forty years of memories, we’re standing just to the right of the makeshift stage next to Cam. And I’m clapping the loudest. I really want to pull a Julia Roberts and roll my fist in the air while I let out a “Whoop, whoop, whoop!” But Jake would probably kill me. And Pee Paw probably wouldn’t approve of the outburst either.
“As you all know, my dear friend Ed Sheeran is here tonight…”
Pee Paw looks at me. My mouth falls open. I silently relay him a message as he waits for the crowd to stop clapping.
You shut the fuck up, Pee Paw Swagger! You didn’t tell me he was your friend! Ed who… You sneaky, studdly old fart!
“And as a favor to me, he has agreed to perform a song so that I may return a favor I owe to my Grandson Jake’s lovely date, Penelope.”
Where the fuck is my phone….
Emily is not going to believe this shit!
“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Ed Sheeran.”
I’m still gaping. Staring at the fiery orange hair of one of my celebrity crushes as he takes the stage. Willing him to look at me. So that I may use my silent message relaying power to tell him, “Yes. I will have your babies.”
But before I can wave like a fool to get his attention, Cam pries my opened clutch from my hand. Then I’m whisked around and embraced in the arms of Jake Swagger.
And I
Cannot
Breathe.
That Pop Rocks, ear tickling, warm chest, gaping hole feeling is back. Because Jake’s smile is…everything. Maybe it’s for show. To prove something to his grandfather. Keep the women from sinking their teeth into him. So he looks handsome in the pictures being taken by all these damn flashing cameras. And it scares the shit out of me because I don’t care if it’s fake. It feels real.
