The determination on his face makes it clear that I’m screwed. He’s going to pester me until I agree. Part of me wants to quickly come up with a list of excuses for why this is a horrible idea, but it won’t matter, because I’m going to give in. Ialwaysgive in when it comes to him…and pretty much everyone else.
Fuck. He’s right. I’m a goddamn people-pleaser.
I sigh. “Tell me more about this to-do list,” I say, waving my hand like it’s a white flag indicating surrender.
He leans in, nudging my shoulder. “I knew you’d make the right choice. It’s simple. We’ll tackle our responsibilities first. Spend two nights a week, along with Saturday mornings, cleaning out my mom’s house. I’ll help you with weddingplanning one night a week. Then we’ll have some fun. Plans for the rest of the evenings and weekends are completely up to my discretion.” There is conviction in his voice and a huge grin on his face. He’s loving every second of this.
My brows raise. “You’re offering to help me with wedding planning? Why?” I can’t get my own fiancé to help me plan our wedding, so it doesn’t make sense that Jake would want to be involved. He’s probably mentioning it to be kind, preventing me from using the wedding as an excuse as to why I can’t do one of the fun activities he’s organizing.
“You’re stressed about the wedding, and I want to help. I’m here for the long haul, so put me to work. We can accomplish more together. We’ve always been better together.”
My mouth falls open. He can’t be remembering how his mom used to talk about us being better together. It has to be just a coincidence that he used the phrase shortly after the memory popped into my head.
What is going on? I didn’t expect any of this when I walked into Judy’s house. Not the flurry of memories and emotions. Anddefinitelynot the incredibly sweet yet confusing offer from Jake. Although I highly doubt he knows anything about wedding planning, I could use the help. It would be refreshing to have another person to bounce ideas off who isn’t my mom or Brian’s mom. They’re both so opinionated and would quickly commandeer everything about my wedding if I gave them an inch.
“I can see the thoughts running through your head, Kate. You look like you’re doing complicated equations, based on how hard you’re concentrating.”
The tension in my face starts to slowly fade.
“Say yes. Let me help you. Learn to have fun again.” He reaches for my hand, clasping it in his. “I’ll play the dead mother card if I have to. I don’t want to use it, but I will.”
“Isn’t that what you just did?”
“Not technically. I’m only suggesting Icoulduse it. It still has all its special powers.”
“Ugh. You’re the worst.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that,” he replies, looking into my eyes. “Say yes. You know you want to. It’ll be like old times.” He grins mischievously, and his steel-blue eyes twinkle.
I shake my head, sinking into the couch with our hands joined together. “Fine. You win. This had better result in me getting more items checked off my to-do list and not becoming some boondoggle.”
“You will. I promise,” he says with a wink.
Whatever he’s planning is either going to be a ton of fun or incredibly reckless. Probably a combination of the two. Whatever it is, I’m certain my mom is going to hate it when she finds out.
seventeen
I wantto hate everything about the deal I made with Jake. I desperately want him to be wrong about what I need when he’s been absent for over a decade. He shouldn’t know me at all. But damn it, he does. Knows what I need more than I do. Why the hell does he have to be right?
He makes it nearly impossible to hold any resentment toward him when he lightens my load every single day. I teeter between wanting to punch him in the face and sobbing on his shoulders for making my life a little easier. Being my support system when my fiancé has been MIA and barely talks to me.
If people still updated their Facebook status or AIM away messages, mine would read “It’s CoMpLiCateD” with an obscure song lyric thrown in to convey my feelings, even though no one would get the music reference, except Jake.
Damn it.
Am I finally falling victim to his magical charm that seems to spellbind every other woman in the world? How do I make it stop?
I cover my face with an extra pillow on the bed and mindlessly scream into it, grateful Jake started staying at hismom’s house last night and doesn’t hear me lose my shit. The man confuses the hell out of me. Doesn’t pick up a goddamn phone in fifteen years, but ensures I have a healthy lunch and dinner every day with strategic sweet and salty snacks strewn throughout the house. He spends two hours discussing the pros and cons of my wedding mood board options, debating the merits of petal pink and dusty rose.
I scream into my pillow again before throwing it across the room and pulling the comforter over my head. What is wrong with me? Am I being punked? There’s no way this can really be my life. None of it makes any sense.
“Morning, Kate. Are you up?” Jake calls from outside my room as he knocks on the door. “I have a surprise for you.”
What’s he doing here so early? Or at all? We don’t have plans until lunch. I open my door to find Jake holding two coffees and a white bag that probably contains my favorite pastries. It’s sweet and annoying. “What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to make sure you had breakfast before your back-to-back meetings. Ran to The Daily Grind to get you coffee, a cream cheese danish,anda chocolate croissant.” He gives me a sheepish smile as he looks me up and down. “Cute PJs, by the way.”
Of course, he has to see me wearing a pair of tattered flannel pajamas from my high school days because I didn’t have a chance to do any laundry. Talk about scraping the bottom of the clothes barrel. “You didn’t have to get me breakfast.”
