“It’ll pass. His family will come around.” Velma stood, smoothing the skirt of her dress.
“’Cause you’re you. They’ll see how good you are for each other.” Claire stood, too. “C’mon, I think Harry and Morty are through. Let’s get back out there.”
Claire grabbed Heather’s hand, tugging her along to the dance floor and the elderly mosh pit to jam to some Don McLean. Heather raised her arms, shaking her booty along with Velma and Claire. Like they were teenagers again.
A sizzle went through the air behind her. She didn’t need to turn to know Jase was there. Her stomach dipped, like it did whenever he was there. She spun to him. He’d ditched the tuxedo jacket and had rolled up his sleeves. The thing about Jase was that, when he committed to dancing, he was all in. The moves that would make most people cringe and worry they’d screw up, he pulled off without hesitation. She’d give it to him, his dancing rivaled Harry’s and Morty’s. He didn’t even need to air hump to make it happen.
Yeah, the Dvornakov prom package was pretty awesome.
26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Heather was still riding high on the fumes from her prom night with Jase—even though they’d had three other nights since. Three nights wrapped up in each other. He’d done his family thing, said it was fine, dodged any questions. So she didn’t ask. Didn’t push.
Now it was a new work week. A week where she had to start her search for Candy’s replacement. She pushed another tray of cockies into the oven.
“Heather?” Jase asked from the door to her kitchen.
“Hey, what’re you doing here?” she asked.
“I have something for you.” He strode toward her, brushed his hand to her jaw, lifting her lips to his. The sensitive skin of her lips met his. The kiss deepened. Well, that was a nice way to say good morning. Not that they hadn’t already said good morning once that day. The world around them bopped along, but they were holding on to each other. Mouth, tongue, and everything all wrapped up together.
His hand found hers, and he slid something into it. Cool metal. She broke the kiss, looking at the key fob he’d placed in her hand.
“Your van’s done.” He traced circles on her neck. “It’s parked out front.”
“Serious?” Heather asked. She hugged him.
“Serious.” He kissed her forehead.
“Candy, I’m checking out the new van,” she hollered on her way out the front door.
She skidded to a halt. Her breath caught.
It was perfect. Brand new, bright pink, with the cookie perched on top. “I love it.”
Jase pulled her to his side. “Thanks for not sending my grandmother to the pokey.”
Speaking of his grandmother, Babushka shuffled up the sidewalk toward them. “I am not speaking to you.” She glared at Heather. Glared at the van. Nodded at Jase.
“Sorry?” Heather asked.
Jase tensed. Dropped his arm.
“I am not speaking to you,” Babushka said in a louder voice.
Heather stepped toward Babushka. “What did I do this time?” she asked carefully.
Babushka planted her hands on her hips. “You can’t even make time for an old woman’s birthday party.”
“Shit,” Jase said.
What on earth was Babushka talking about? “Okay, I’m missing something.”
Heather glanced to Jase. He’d gone pale.
“My birthday party. You vere not there,” Babushka huffed. “Jason said you vere too busy to come.”
