Jack doesn’t say anything at first, and I realize I’m up. It’s my turn.
“Yep, we’re dating.” I giggle, then grab one of the cups and force it into Jack’s hand. “Totally dating.”
Maybe he takes pity on me, or maybe I really need to work on my public speaking skills, like I noted to Jack, but he slides his arm around my waist and pulls me tight against him. My skin tingles everywhere he’s touching me.
“Figured it was just a rumor.” Wyatt slides our drinks over the makeshift bartop. “Huh. How about that?”
Jack stuffs a tip into the jar. “You know me. Like to keep everyone on their toes.”
June rolls abruptly up to us in her scooter as we turn, scuffing Jack’s boots. Cider splashes out of his glass, and he catches the spill with his thumb, dragging it slowly across his knuckles before bringing it to his mouth.
Jesus. Christ.
“Jack, you promised me a dance.”
I blink, still staring, still struggling to act like that didn’t just give me a whole slew of really bad ideas.
Jack smiles, his eyes lighting up at June’s Mario costume. “You don’t have to run over my feet, June. I remember.”
“You have eight other toes. You’ll live.”
Bridget Murphy strolls up next. “I wouldn’t blame youwhen you have such a gorgeous date.” She holds up her cup of punch and winks at me.
“Thank you?—”
“She is gorgeous, isn’t she?” he interrupts. Jack’s smile is genuine and full of appreciation, and it takes me the next few minutes to calm myself down as he dances with June on the crowded dance floor. She rocks the scooter back and forth as he dances around her, the two of them laughing. Just a nun and Mario dancing to the end of “Thriller.”
Bridget watches, standing beside me. “He’s in trouble.”
“Well, if he’s not careful and gets another concussion?—”
“No.You, dear. He’s in trouble withyou.”
I wish I could form a coherent thought, but “How?” is the only thing that tumbles out. If anything, I feel likeIcould be in trouble. I never let anyone in, and somehow, in just a few short weeks, he’s pushed past all my usual bluster with those damn dimples and smart mouth.
It’s annoying, given just how gorgeous he is. Even in a nun costume.
She gives a small, answering smirk. Jack has the same blue eyes. “When I met his grandfather, he marched over to me at a town dance and asked me what I was doing the next week. When I asked why he wanted to know, he said I should be making plans to pick out a wedding dress. Dear, I laughed so hard in that man’s face.”
I glance between her and Jack. It’s easy to notice the love there. The Murphy siblings may stir things up in Merritt Point, but it seems like they have parents and a grandmother who truly care about them.
“He’s named after him, you know, my Jack. He’s been gone now for fifteen years.”
“What happened after that dance?”
She waggles her eyebrows. “We were married two weekslater. The damn man knew what he wanted, and I couldn’t resist him.” With a small sigh, she continues, “Jack reminds me of him so much.”
Jack bends and swoops June off her seat, spinning her around. Her Mario mustache begins to fall, so she tears it off and sticks it to his face. They break out in chorus, sing-shouting “Psycho Killer” with the rest of the dance floor.
“He’s always the one to walk into a room and make everyone happy. But I hear it in his voice when he talks about you. He doesn’t have to perform. I can tell, he justis. He really needed to find someone to challenge him. To soften him a bit.”
Guilt sinks heavily in my stomach. I should tell her it’s just pretend. That he’s still that cocky hockey player who prefers casual hookups with puck bunnies. He’s definitely not interested in the small-town bookstore owner with more than enough baggage to scare him off.
“He’s…” I pause, not wanting to lie to her. “Jack is kind,” I say at last.
Jack sets June back on her scooter, and the pair rejoin us.
“Well, Bridget, I think it’s time to turn in for the night. Let’s let these two lovebirds have some time alone.”
