“Of course.”
Air puffs out of my cheeks. “I can’t wait to witness this.” That’s kind of an understatement. The image of Jack stretching and folding dough is one I’m desperate to experience.
“My turn.” He smiles again. “Your dog’s name…I’m assuming it’s Giorgio as in Armani?”
I blink stunned eyes at him. “Okay,howdo you know that? Your fashion knowledge is a little surprising.”
“It’s more pop-culture knowledge. We can thank Michael Scott from the episode where he watchesThe Devil Wears Prada.” He shrugs in a casual, nonchalant way, like he didn’t just wave a hundred green flags with that one sentence.
“You know, I was on the fence about you, but you just won me over,” I say, patting his nicely formed forearm. It’s another lie, because we both know I’ve been obsessed with him since hecalled mema’am. He just shakes his head with that delicious smile appearing. “Your face hurts from grinning so much, doesn’t it? Your body’s probably still in shock, since smiling was outlawed for so long.”
He pinches my leg just above the knee, making me yelp.
“Okay, my turn to ask another question,” I say, lacing my fingers through his. “Tell me about your typical after-work routine. How does Jack Jackson unwind at the end of a grueling day of scowling and raising heart rates?”
We’re nearing my parents’ house, but these back-and-forth questions have kept me mostly distracted. I can’t help the bouncing of my knee, though, as that familiar tension begins to build.
“Nothing exciting,” Jack replies. “Pick up groceries, head to my camper. Shower off the day, then grill something for dinner. Iron the next morning’s shirt and end the evening with a TV show or a book.”
“You pick out your outfit for the next day and hang it up, don’t you?” I shift my body nervously, despite the delight in my voice.
“No, it’s not like that.” He scowls. “I wear the same uniform every day, and I just like to start with a crisp shirt.”
“Whatever you say.” I shrug, turning back to the road with a smug little grin. Pushing his buttons still gives me a thrill. He shakes his head again, though he’s still amused. Then I glance out the window, and the reality of what I’m about to do fills my lungs.
“You sure you don’t wanna stop and get something to eat?” Jack asks for the third time as we enter my parents’ neighborhood. The knot I’ve been silently trying to unravel is twisting in my stomach, growing more tangled the closer we get. It’s never a great feeling knowing you’re about to let someone down.
“I’m fine.” I wave my hand in dismissal, giving him a softsmile. His eyes dart over to me, a concerned dip to his brow before his attention returns to the road. “But you should get something if you’re hungry,” I say, my leg resuming its bouncing as the trees grow in size before disappearing behind us.
He shoots me another concerned look when I bump my knee on the glove compartment. “I’m okay, promise. Just nervous, even though I know this is the right decision,” I reassure him.
The hour-and-a-half drive has been pleasant so far, mostly consisting of us holding hands and asking one another questions while his thumb makes gentle sweeps over my knuckles. And I’d hate to ruin the vibe now.
Thisisthe right decision, I remind myself, inhaling a calming breath.
I direct Jack toward my childhood home, frowning at all the cars as we enter the driveway.
“They’re having a party?” Jack asks, parking behind the long line of vehicles and taking one last sip of his caramel frappuccino. The way he lit up when we drove through Starbucks was adorable. The man really does love his sugary drinks.
I frown, unfastening my seatbelt. “Not that I know of.”
We climb out of the car and hike up the driveway, and a blissful smile takes over my face. Because Jack’s hand is curled around mine, and for the first time, I won’t be entering this house feeling like a complete outcast or a failure. Not only do I have someone who understands me, someone who champions me, but I’ve also accomplished what I set out to do, and I’m confident in my decisions.
Mumbled chatter drifts through the front door as we approach, and my brow dips as it grows louder. I pull Jack through the foyer, hearing cheers of celebration floating from theliving room.
“What is that?” Jack asks as we pass Beyonsai and her shrine.
“My adopted sibling. I’ll explain later.” I continue my path, Jack following closely behind. By the sound of things, almost all the extended family is currently gathered here. Their chatter comes to an abrupt halt as we enter the room, all eyes landing on Jack and me.
“Willow!” Mom exclaims, surprise raising the pitch of her voice.
I glance around in confusion. “Uh…hi. Did I miss the invite? What’s going on?”
“We’re celebrating. Juliet qualified for the Olympics yesterday!” She beams as Dad joins her with that telltale pride swelling in his eyes.
Yup. This was excellent timing. I’m about to shock them right off this cloud they’re floating on.
“When did you get in, Will?” Dad asks, smiling. “I thought you were away for a class assignment. And who is this?” He lifts his glass in Jack’s direction.
