Page 80 of Barefoot Lake

“I — uh — you — Damn.” Jake clears his throat. “You’ve broken me. You look stunning.”

I smile and look down, catching sight of the roses in his hand. I’d been so distracted by all of him that I hadn’t seen them at first. Jake holds them out to me.

“These are for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” I say honestly. The dozen red roses are blooming and full. It should feel like a cheesy old movie, but it doesn’t. It’s a man trying to make me feel special.

Once empty, Jake’s hand flies to the back of his neck. The poor man is nervous.

I hold up one finger.

“One second.”

I leave the door open as I scurry inside to put the flowers in a vase and set them in the center of the table. Burying my face among the blooms, I take a deep breath before hurrying back to Jake. He holds my coat in his hands so I can slip it on. I turn to accept his help and let this wonderful man woo me, just as I requested earlier.

Outside, I freeze on my top step, and my mouth does fall open this time. On the other side of my lawn sits a vintage black Trans Am. I’d recognize the firebird stretched across the hood anywhere. I’m not a car expert, but I like them, and I know that one is sexy as fuck.

I glance at Jake and realize he’s waiting at the bottom of the steps with his hand outstretched to help me down. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by the presence of the shiny vehicle.

“Where did that come from?” I ask as I take his hand and come down the steps.

“She is why I never park my truck in my garage and why I pay to store my boat at the marina. I’d rather have a cold truck than even risk parking next to her.”

He leads me to the passenger door.

“She was my father’s, and I hardly ever take her out, but this is a special occasion.”

He places his other hand on the roof of the car and tenderly pats it — her. Obviously, this vehicle is one of his most prized possessions, and I do not overlook the significance of him taking her out for me.

“Well, she’s beautiful.”

“So are you.”

I’ve blushed so many times this evening that I’m afraid it’ll be permanent.

He opens the car door, and I slide into the smooth leather seat. The interior, like the exterior, is pristine. A second later, Jake is in the driver’s seat. He turns on the car, and the engine growls. I can’t help but smile. This car is cool.

Jake looks at me, gently turning my face to him with his fingers on my cheek.

“I almost forgot to do this.”

He kisses my lips hungrily, and I know foregoing lipstick was the right choice. I grip the lapel of his jacket as he starts to pull away, tempted to say, “fuck dinner” so we can have sex in this car.

I feel Jake grin against my lips.

“Another time, Ace.” He must be able to read my mind.

I groan but sit back in my seat. I still fold my arms like someone denied her treat.

“I’m holding you to that.”

The smile on his face is devilish.

I’m loving the closeness of everything in a small town because, in no time at all, we’re pulling into the parking lot for a restaurant called Papa’s. Jake catches me looking at the sign.

“Have you been here before?”

I shake my head.