I stared at the kitchen table. I’d spent, like, twenty minutes getting the floor swept and another twenty minutes getting Missy’s art supplies tucked into the corner of the cabinet all while a pan of brownies baked in the oven and hopefully made this place at least smell like a normal home. Anything to get the scent of Mom’s cabbage soup out of here. All to find out that my mom wasn’t playing favorites or reserving certain rules for certain guys.
A thick knot of dread ripped through me as I recalled the rough night I’d had with TJ. First the date, then the stream of nightmares about his fate. I hated thinking he was destined for tragedy. And just what was I supposed to do about this whole study date? Maybe it was time to tell Jett about my secret agenda. He wouldn’t like it, but hopefully he’d be understanding. I sighed as I made my way to the pantry. There was one last thing on my list of chores and that was to take out the trash.
I snatched the brownie box off the top of the heap, realizing I should’ve put it in the recycling, and cinched the white bag nice and tight. With a quick tug, I hoisted the thing out of the tall, plastic bin and made my way to the front door. I was just about to tuck the brownie box under my arm and twist the knob when a sharp rap of knocks sounded from the other side.
I stared at the white door for a blink. “Come in,” I chimed.
The silver knob twisted. The door creaked open. And there stood a sight that made me recall the very scene I’d banned from my brain—the recollection of Jett leaning forward, looking at me with those smoldering eyes, and practically daring me to kiss him.
I blinked, reminding myself that he wasnotdaring me to kiss him now. “Hi,” I managed.
He grinned. “Hi there.” At once his eyes darted to the bag in my grip. “Here, let me get that for you.” He pried the bag from my fingers before I could protest and turned right back out the door.
I followed him as he strode to the garbage, pried the lid open, and flung it inside. He proceeded to grip the handle in back and walk it to the curb without a second thought. Of course, if it was garbage night here it was garbage night in all of Sweet Water, so he knew the drill, but I couldn’t exactly stop myself fromreally really reallyliking the way Jett had stepped up and helped me without asking. No wonder moms liked it so much.
“Recycle?” Jett asked, pulling me from my stupor.
I looked down at the box in my hand and nodded.
“Here.” He held his hand out and I handed it over like a zombie robot and watched the way he tore open the ends, flattened it, and strode to the recycle bin where he tossed it in.
“Thanks.” The word fell off my lips as he dusted his hands on his jeans. Black jeans. They looked nice with his ashy gray V-neck tee. Gracious, he looked like a walking advertisement for aftershave for crying out loud. My heart kicked out a few extra beats in double rhythm.
He started back toward the house next. I hurried alongside, assembling the words in my head. “My mom won’t let us be in the house alone,” I said.
Jett stopped walking. “She’s not home?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t realize it, but Missy has dance lessons tonight, so…”
“That makes sense. At least she acknowledges that I’m a normal guy. I hate when parents assume I’m going to be perfect just because I’m the pastor’s son.”
A guilty gulp slunk down my throat. “Is this a bad time to admit that I actually tried to play that card with her?”
Jett’s face turned thoughtful. He lifted one dark brow and stepped close enough for me to smell that yummy spicy scent on him, giving life to that whole aftershave advertisement thought. I eyed the very slight hint of a five o’clock shadow along his jaw and gulped once more.
“How come?”
His question took me off guard. I could barely hear it over the rapid thumps in my chest. “Huh?”
“Why did you try to play that card with your mom?” A smile tugged at one side of his full lips. “Youwantedto be alone in the house with me?”
My eyes widened a second before I slapped his arm. “No. Sheesh. I just…wanted to actually get some work done. But don’t worry, my mom was adamant—no special treatment for you in the Tisdale home,” I assured. I could hear how strained my own voice sounded after the wanting to be alone with him accusation but there was nothing I could do about it. The fact was, I’d been accidentally fantasizing about what it might feel like to have him kiss me on the couch for the last two days.
“Good.” A cryptic grin tugged at Jett’s lips. “I’m not as innocent as moms like to think I am.” The statement seemed to ignite flames in my cheeks.
His gaze shifted to my house. A furrow creased his brow as he studied it, as if the bright red bricks and white pillars held the solution. “My sisters are hosting some sort of watch party at my place,” he said, “but we could try to sneak into the den.” He scratched the side of his face. “My dad wouldn’t like that though…”
The moment was presenting itself, wasn’t it? I should just tell him that I was using our study dates to make it look like I was seeing someone between my nights with TJ. I tried to work up the courage. “We could go grab a shake,” I suggested. Maybe working up to it was best. “At the Burger Bar they have wifi. Sometimes.” I added thesometimesin there because half the time it didn’t work all that well. “If it’s working tonight, we could do a little research in the car.”
“Their wifi never works,” he said, eyes still set on my house. Perhaps he’d been thinking of that couch kiss as well. His gaze shifted back to me, his expression still puzzled. “You trying to get out of doing homework tonight?”
I felt caught suddenly. I shrugged.
He eased back into that smile. “All right,” he said, tucking his hand into his pocket and retrieving his keys. “Burger Bar it is.”
I told myself, while sitting beside Jett in his black pickup truck, that I needed to just fess up about the dating thing, but by the time the Burger Bar came into view I decided it was too late. My eyes wandered over the large crowd outside the small shack. The Burger Bar wasn’t your typical restaurant with indoor tables and vinyl booths. Customers walked up to the ordering windows, listed their picks from the menu, and waited for their number to be called. While there were a few outdoor benches cornering the property, most people took their food back to the dirt lot where they piled into cars or sat in the backs of their pickup trucks while they ate.
Jett turned and asked what I wanted as he ordered, but I shook my head and insisted I pay for myself. Forget the fact that I’d just made brownies for the first time ever. They were probably gross anyway. I stepped over to the window beside Jett’s and placed an order of my own—a cookie dough shake and a large fry.
