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She's such a liar. The second she's gone, I look at Jake. “First off, we are never coming back here again. And secondly, if you leave her a tip, I will break off this wedding faster than you can blink.”
He chuckles as he helps me wipe my shirt and pants. I don't find any humor in this. The girl brings me another drink and a few more napkins then walks away. Dried as good as I'm going to get, I look over the menu, deciding on a pasta. After she reluctantly takes our order, Jake smiles at me.
“What?” I ask suspiciously. Did I miss something?
“You're beautiful.” He shrugs as if it's no big deal.
I look down at my stained, damp clothes and automatically run a hand through my windblown hair.
“You look fine,” Jake chides. “C'mere.” He takes my hand and pulls slightly. I stand and walk over to him to take a seat in his lap. “Will you be happier if I let you touch my beard? I know how much you love it.” He grins, taking my hand and lifting my fingers to his jaw.
I run my fingers over the rough hair and smile. “I have to ask permission now? Is a little facial hair that special?” Pressing a kiss to his chin, he chuckles, and I can feel his stomach move with his laugh. There is nothing that I love more than being with my love. A seriousness falls over me as I rest my forehead against his and say, “I could sit with you forever and be completely happy, you know that?” I search his green eyes, hoping that he realizes the truth in my statement.
Jake speaks in that sexy, deeper-than-usual voice that is a dead give-away to how strongly he feels about whatever he's about to say. “That's all I want. For my Sweetness to be happy. Bonus points if I'm the one making you happy.”
“You've earned your bonus points for today, love.” I quickly kiss him before moving back to my seat. The evil waitress is on her way with our plates, and I swear to God, if she drops my pasta on me, I'm going after her. She doesn't, thank goodness. Within seconds of taking a bite, the manager walks up to our table and introduces himself. I ignore him because he's obviously not here to talk to me. The third sentence out of his mouth is about how big a fan he is of Jake's.
“Thank you. Again, the food is wonderful. My fiancée, however, hasn't been too happy with our waitress.” I lift my head, my ears perk at Jake speaking up about the wicked waitress of Chicago. He doesn't usually complain to managers. Ever. Of course, we usually don't have any problems either.
“What seems to be the issue?” the manager asks, seemingly concerned.
“Her customer service skills could improve,” is all Jake says.
“Thank you for informing me of that. Enjoy your lunch.”
He walks away and I raise an eyebrow at Jake, who shakes his head. We finish our meal, Jake pays, and my threat works because he doesn't leave a tip. He takes me home, so I can change, and I just do make it back to work on time.
“I'll see you at home, okay? I love you. Always.”
I lean over to give him a kiss and say with my lips touching his, “Don't forget about dessert tonight.”
“Oh, I won't.” He smiles.
I give him one more kiss and return to work. It's a busy day, so I don't get to talk to Helen or Kristi much until it's quittin' time. Even then, I say a quick goodbye because I have to get Drake.
“Can we go to that place I like downtown for supper?” he asks.
I groan because after lunch, I don't want to go anywhere. “Let's eat at home tonight. We'll go before the week is over though, okay?”
He doesn't respond, choosing to look out the window instead.
“How was your day?” I question. Maybe I can get more out of him than a few words.
“It was okay. Hey, if Jake can get me tickets, will you take a friend and me to his next home game? Not the one coming up, but the one after he gets back.”
Crap! I forgot all about Jake being out of town all of next week. “Which friend?”
“Riley.”
I don't think I've met him yet. “Sure, that's fine.” After a pause, I ask, “Where do you want to go for Thanksgiving this year? My dad is wanting us to come down this year, but I don't know what we'll do yet. I've got to find out Jake's schedule too.”
“It doesn't matter to me, Emily. Wherever you want to go. Not like I have much of a choice anyway.” He genuinely doesn't seem to care or think that what he wants to do matters.
“If your opinion didn't matter, I wouldn't have asked. It is my choice, but I wanted to know where you wanted to be since we didn't go to North Carolina at all last year.”
He shrugs as we get out of the car to go inside. “I don't have anyone there anymore, so I don't care.”
His words sink into me as I unlock the door, and we step inside the apartment. Drake immediately goes to his room. I can't stop thinking about what he said. While I start supper, I realize he's wrong. He does have family there. His uncle, aunt, and cousins. I know that Diane keeps in touch with Jake, but I doubt she ever speaks to Drake. The brothers were never close to their cousins, so I doubt they talk either. I hate that he doesn't feel like my family is his family too. Even after all this time.
“Drake, come here,” I call out. Surprisingly, he appears moments later without a smart remark. “Have a seat.” I nod to the bar. We are about to get this settled.
“What do you want? I was in the middle of a game.”
I stand across from him and lean against the counter. “What's going on?” His mouth parts, but I keep going. “Really, Drake. I want to know. You have family in North Carolina. Yeah, we don't hear from them, but they are still there. And don't you like my dad? You don't consider him family anymore? Do you even consider me family? Talk to me, Drake. Tell me what's wrong.”
He sighs, like the subject is so exhausting. “You're not going to let this go, are you?” I shake my head. “Fine. Of course, I consider you family, Emily. I've known you for like ever. And I do like Mr. Mike.” Drake pauses for a moment. “It's just sometimes, without my parents around, I feel like Jake is literally the only family I have left and that barely counts when he's busy being Jake Benson, hockey player with the Chicago Blackhawks, and not Jake, my brother. Everything seems fucked up.”
I raise an eyebrow at him.
