I gasped dramatically. “I am never nonproductive.”
He laughed as I got buckled in. Then he backed out of the driveway while I dug in the pastry bag.
“Where’s Lieutenant Dan?” I asked.
“At home. I didn’t want to leave him in the truck while I ran in to get your donut.”
He glanced at me. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” I looked down at the red floral, knee-length halter dress I had on. The engagement party was a luau. I had a big fake red hibiscus flower in my hair. Jacob wore a black Hawaiian shirt with large birds-of-paradise on it. It was very hokey and very not Jacob. He’d probably had to go buy it.
According to him, this party was exactly the kind of crap Amy loved. Themed, loud, and lots of people.
I took a bite of the donut. Then I held it out in front of him and he took a bite too.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked, licking frosting off my thumb. “What time is everyone getting there?”
He chewed and swallowed. “The party starts at six. Amy’s family will be there and some of her friends. My parents are having it catered. It’ll probably run until nine or so. We should stay the whole time.”
“Got it. Are you nervous?”
He paused. He was nervous.
I had gotten to know him so well over the last few weeks he didn’t even have to tell me. I knew his body language, and his facial expressions, and all of his quiets.
“Look,” I said. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you this isn’t going to suck. But we’ve got this.”
He glanced at me with a grateful but not entirely convincing smile.
I hated that he had to go through this. I wouldn’t have been able to do it. If I had to go to Nick and Kelly’s engagement party, I’d show up in my wedding dress to burn the venue down.
Jacob wasn’t like that, though. He was diplomatic and not in the least bit petty. He was more inclined to take the high ground, put the blame for someone’s bad treatment of him on himself rather than publicly admit someone had done him dirty.
I had noooo problem telling everyone Nick did me dirty. Fuck him.
We pulled onto Jacob’s street and I craned my neck to see. He lived in a quiet wooded neighborhood in Minnetonka, a few blocks from the lake. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, but his house was exactly it the second I saw it.
The place was small. It looked funny on the large, tree-filled lot, almost like a shed that had been converted into a home. Probably a vacation cottage once, being that it was so close to the popular lake. Nice curb appeal. He had it all landscaped and pretty, with hostas and lilac bushes that were actually pruned and managed—not like mine.
We got out and walked around the yard first. He showed me the birdbath and the porch swing that faced the woods.
Then we circled back to the front and he opened the door to an excited Lieutenant Dan and a warm, sunny living room. It was an open floorplan with a newly remodeled, farm-style kitchen to the left and a small table with two chairs. He had two sophisticated tan leather recliners in front of the TV where a couch would normally be.
“This is cute,” I said, petting the dog and looking around. “But you don’t have a sofa.”
“The chairs are comfortable.”
“Yeah, but you can’t Netflix and chill in these. How do you snuggle? And only two? What if more than one person comes over?”
“I don’t want more than one person to come over.”
“Clearly. The horror.”
He gave me an amused look. “I just like people more when they’re not around. Present company excluded.”
I laughed.
Lieutenant Dan finished with me and hopped up onto one of the chairs, and I gave Jacob a look. “Oh my God. Is that his chair? You only have two chairs and one of them is for the dog?”
He gave me a shrug and a small smile.
I shook my head and wandered around looking at his stuff while he followed me silently. He had a big floor-to-ceiling bookshelf with framed photos tucked into it. Lots of plants. There was a prescription bottle for anxiety meds next to the coffeemaker in the kitchen.
He’d never mentioned being on medication for his anxiety, but I kind of figured. I liked that he managed his mental health. Better than punching holes in walls.
I picked up the bottle and shook it. “Does it help?”
He gave me a nod. “It does. A lot.”
“Good.”
I set the bottle down.
There was a remarkable amount of color in his house. Yellow walls, pops of blue, colorful backsplash in the kitchen, nice artwork. He had a pretty chandelier over the small table and stained glass hanging in a window.
He hovered just behind me, quiet. Like this inspection was a test and he was waiting for his grade.
“It’s not like I thought it was going to be,” I said, picking up a vanilla candle and sniffing it.
“How did you think it was going to be?” he asked from behind me.
I shrugged, setting the candle down. “I don’t know. The way guys’ places usually are. Cold and gray and serious. Or totally empty and you sleep on a mattress on the floor. I like it,” I said, turning to him.
The corners of his lips twitched up.
“Did you decorate it yourself?” I asked.
“I did.”
“You did a great job. You need a framed picture of us, though. In case your family comes over.”
“I have one. It’s next to the bed.”
I put a hand on my chest. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve thought of everything.”
He grinned.
I nodded toward the hallway. “Do I get to see your bedroom?”
“Of course.”
I followed him down a hall lined with framed family photos. We passed a small half-bathroom on the left. He opened a door at the end of the hallway and stood back to let me in.
His large room was clean and neat—hardwood floors with an Aztec rug under the bed. He had a wall-to-wall bookshelf, filled with more books. A forest green tufted chair with a throw pillow on it sat by the window. There was another bathroom at the other end of the room and a large dog bed for Lieutenant Dan in the corner. He had a small workout area with a rowing machine, and an organized weight rack with a rolled yoga mat leaning against it. There were a few plants, an abstract painting over the headboard—and the bed, with a white duvet and a mustard-colored throw folded down at the end.
The second I saw his bed, my heart did a small somersault. This was where he slept.
This is where he has sex…
The thought of that made me a little breathless. Because I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about Jacob and sex over the last three weeks. A lot.
I found him unbelievably attractive. He was in great shape. But I was obsessed with his collarbone. It was the most random thing. I never knew a collarbone could be sexy until Jacob. Maybe because I saw so little of his body, I found the parts I could see so erotic? His forearms, his neck, his Adam’s apple. The other day at the park he was playing with one of the twins and his shirt hiked up and I almost died looking at the two inches of stomach and the trail of hair I got to see.
And I loved the way he smelled. When we were in front of people we knew and we had to look like a couple, the first thing I did was get close enough to smell him. It was like clean laundry and soap. This room smelled like that. This whole place was Jacob, concentrated.