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“That’s interesting,” I say, wanting time to mull it over. “Who else knows?”
“No idea.” Julian dumps his dirty cup in the dishwasher. “Also, my advice to both of you is that he makes nice with Boone. You’ll need his help to make any of this happen.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Someone once told me to always deny. It’s valuable advice.
“Yeah, that happens a lot with me,” Julian says as he leaves the break room.
∞∞∞
Jake: Date night! Date night! Date night!
Sarah: You haven’t told me where to meet you.
Jake: Hell, no. We’re doing this all prim and proper. I’m picking you up. Be ready. Also, please don’t be prim or proper.
Sarah: Guidance on appropriate attire since I don’t know where we’re going.
Jake: Have you ever seen a movie where she has on a giant raincoat and nothing else? You should wear that.
Sarah: That will not happen.
Jake: The raincoat is optional. You are correct. A dress without a bra and underwear is an acceptable substitute.
Jake: I just want to be with you. Comfortable clothes. You’re beautiful no matter what. I love looking at you.
Jake:….
Jake: I want to be with you.
13-Sarah
“Where are we going?”
Jake takes his truck further into the residential neighborhood. “Almost there.” We drive past a young family on an evening walk and a couple walking their dog. “Dinner is at my place.”
To prove it, he pulls into a short driveway and shuts off the ignition.
It certainly explains his choice of clothing. After his creative text messages, I settled on a salmon pink sundress with cap sleeves and a low back since it splits the difference between formal and casual. Jake put much less thought into his fashion choices, choosing red board shorts and a yellow Hawaiian shirt. They clash horribly.
We climb out, and I immediately notice the front yard. “You have a white picket fence,” I say, and my heart skips. Martin commented on them in our DMs yesterday, and when I planned out my ideal future, including an imagined family home, I wanted a white picket fence.
Jake glances at a small section and shrugs his shoulders. “Looks nice, doesn’t it? I replaced it a short time ago,” he says while my world shakes.
I follow him inside, half expecting a mirror on the ceiling and a sex dungeon where the dining room is supposed to be. Instead, his house is rather ordinary, no different from what you’d find in any residential neighborhood.
“I pictured you in something bigger,” I tell him, which maybe unfair. Boone owned a condo before living with Maddie.
“Why?” Jake grabs my hand, leading me to the kitchen. “I’d be lost in anything bigger than this, especially traveling so much. Maybe when I have a family, it will be different. Sit down.” He indicates a chair tucked into the island. “Gazpacho to get us started while everything else cooks.”
“You cook?” Our evening has barely started, and he’s giving me a third shock.
He gestures at the empty house around us. “There’s no one else to do it, and I get hungry sometimes. Don’t be impressed. I have a lawn guy, and a housekeeper comes every two weeks.”
I’m afraid to ask the next question. “Can I ask what we’re having?” It will be complicated. Jake didn’t bring me to his home for macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, although it would be helpful if he did. That way, it will be easier to keep up my mental image of an immature jerk. An adult man who keeps house and cooks bursts that image apart.
“I planned shrimp, then couldn’t remember if you were allergic, so it’s wild salmon and roasted summer vegetables.” His self-satisfied grin tells me he knows it sounds impressive. “I get called surfer boy, so I might as well go with it.”
Boone called him that once and only stuck with it after witnessing Jake’s reaction. “I thought they lived in rivers.”
