Read Date Night (Wish Come True Book 1) Online
Authors: R.C. Matthews
As Bryan droned on about himself, I
let my gaze drift over to where JT stood leaning against the counter. A perky
little blond strode up to him and punched him in the arm before starting up a
conversation. Could she be any more obvious that she was into JT? A tiny twinge
gripped me in the heart as I watched him turn to talk to Blondie. Who was she
anyway? I hadn’t noticed her at the restaurant since I got back from college. I
was going to have to ask JT for an introduction because like it or not, if
Blondie was interested in JT, then she was going to have to pass the Jordan and
Grannie test. He was like family and I would do anything to protect my family.
“So do you want to come next Friday
evening?”
“Excuse me,” I said, settling my eyes
back on Bryan. I hated it when I got caught red handed not paying attention to
the conversation. It was rude and I’d be pissed if the tables were turned. And
now I’d be forced to tell a little white lie. “I’m sorry. I was just looking
over there to see if our appetizer was almost ready. What did you ask?”
“Do you want to come to next Friday
evening’s show? You’re welcome to bring some of your girlfriends along. I can
reserve a table for you in the front row. It seats up to eight women.”
My mouth hung open but I didn’t trust
myself to speak and stalled a moment to craft a suitable response; ‘
Are you
fucking kidding me?’
probably wouldn’t go over very well. Luckily I was
saved from answering his question because JT arrived with our appetizer divided
on two plates and placed one in front of each of us. I stared at him with a
questioning brow. We’d only ordered one appetizer.
JT winked at me with a smile playing
on his lips. “Spicy hot…just the way you like it, babe.”
My eyes shot up to Bryan’s and we
both burst out laughing. JT arched a brow at me, clearly not following along
with the joke. I gently shook my head to let him know I’d fill him in later,
just as I had with all of my previous dates.
J.T.
“You are
not
seriously
planning to go to Beef Jerky’s male strip club next Friday are you?” I said to
Jordan as I held the door open to her mother’s ranch style house.
She giggled and punched me on the arm
on her way through the door. “That’s so wrong of you to name my dates after
food.”
“I think it’s perfect. You are
meeting in a restaurant,” I pointed out and chuckled.
What luck that Beef Jerky wouldn’t
shut up about himself so my shift had ended at the same time as her date and
she could drive me home. It saved Derek the hassle of breaking up his evening
to come pick me up with the one car we shared. I had been getting Jordan’s goat
the whole drive home.
“Maybe Grannie would like to join
you…make it a real girl’s night out. It might put some pep in her step. Bring
your mom along too. She could use a little something to loosen her up. The
woman works hard, you know?”
“Jealous?” Jordan asked, elbowing me
in the side and giggling as she turned the corner into the kitchen. After her
light gasp, I should’ve known better to keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t help
myself from answering.
“No ma’am. I have no interest in the
size of Beef Jerky’s beef. I’m already scarred for life from seeing his six
pack abs in the parking lot.”
I snorted and looked up to find three
sets of curious eyes trained on me. If it had just been my best friend, Jared,
I’d have thought nothing of it. But I hadn’t expected to be caught by Grannie
and Mrs. Billette while having such a lurid conversation with Jordan. Sudden
warmth rushed into my cheeks but I quickly pushed past it and cleared my
throat.
“I have very sad news,” I said with a
broad grin spreading across my face, confident my pal BJ was going to get the
big fat boot in the behind. It was too bad. I hadn’t gotten the chance to call
him BJ to his face yet. Perhaps I should’ve taken the opportunity in the
parking lot when it presented itself.
“Yet another one bites the dust,” I
sighed. “Unless you would welcome a male strip…um…entertainer for a grandson.”
I groaned inwardly when Grannie
perked up in her chair and flashed a conspiratorial grin at her
daughter-in-law. “What do you say Judy? Should we check out the cut of his
beef? A good porterhouse steak shouldn’t be tossed out without proper
consideration.”
Judy laughed and turned to her
daughter. “Listen to your Grannie, Jordan. She knows what she’s talking about.
A good cut of beef is essential to a happy marriage. In fact, the bigger the
better; especially if it’s attached to a man who—”
“Stop it!” Jared cried out and
covered his ears with his hands while he shot his mother an evil eye. “La, la,
la, la, la, la, la! I can’t hear you.”
Mrs. Billette grinned and slapped
Jared’s hands away from his ears. “You stop it. You’re acting like you’re four-years
old instead of twenty-four. What? You don’t think Grannie and I have ever had
sex or been to a male strip club? Do we need to talk about where babies come
from? I thought they teach you that stuff in medical school?”
“Mom.” He hesitated while searching
for the right words and his face turned an incredible shade of beet red. “Of
course I know you’ve had…done
it
before. I just rather not think or talk
about it, okay?”
I smiled at the scene unfolding in
front of me with everyone joining into the playful banter as I walked over to
the refrigerator to grab two beers. This was like my second home—had always
been like my second home—since I was a child. My own house was just across the
street and a few hundred feet down to the right. I placed a beer in front of
Jordan and then hopped up on a bar stool next to her at the kitchen island.
“Is this his career of choice or is
it temporary to get him through his studies?” Grannie asked and interlaced her
hands on the table in front of her. The judge was at the bench standing ready
with her gavel at hand.
“Does it really matter?” I scoffed.
“What kind of guy sells his body to a group of ogling women to make a buck or
two?” I chugged down a few gulps of beer and almost choked when Jordan revealed
how much Bryan earned on a nightly basis. “Damn. Maybe I’m in the wrong
business. I could pay off my college debt one heck of a lot quicker with that
kind of cash.”
“You could pay it off now if you’d
accept my offer to invest in your future,” Grannie said, shaking a scolding
finger at me.
“I know,” I said, blowing her a kiss.
“It’s a sweet offer but I’ve told you it wouldn’t feel right.” How many times
had she made the same offer with the same result? I had stopped counting and
just smiled and played along each time.
“So give us the full report,” Grannie
said. “I’m paying a lot of money for the dating agency and would like to hear
what we’re getting for it. I might be able to overlook Bryan’s choice of job if
he’s doing it for the right reasons, has other redeeming qualities and Jordan
likes him.”
My brow cocked up as I turned to
Jordan. I hadn’t detected any particular redeeming qualities but I couldn’t
speak for how she felt, except to say she’d appeared to be tense most of the
evening. She took her cue and filled everyone in on her date. We were all
cracking up with tears of laughter in our eyes. Jordan made it clear that while
it had been one of the more entertaining evenings she had spent, she did not
really like Bryan. We all joked for a few minutes about the various stage names
Bryan had divulged until Jared threw his hands to his virgin ears once more and
cried for mercy.
Satisfied with Jordan’s response, I
chased down the rest of my beer and then stood to leave. “I hate to drink and
run but Derek is supposed to be home soon and I don’t want to find a party in
full swing when I get there. It’s best to nip it in the bud early on.”
Mrs. Billette leaned over to give me
a hug from her chair and ruffled my mop of tousled brown hair. Just like my mom
had always done. It tugged at my heartstrings every time she did it. But I was
careful not to tell her because I feared it might make her feel self-conscious
about it and she would stop doing it. And I really didn’t want her to stop
doing it.
“Thanks for looking after my little
girl.”
“No problem.” I smiled back. I
punched Jared in the arm for being such a wuss all night with his virgin ears.
“Ten o’clock tomorrow morning at the gym? I’ll pick you up.”
“You know it. Be ready for an
ass-whooping.”
Grannie stood to give me a goodbye
hug. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jordan jumped up and started walking
towards the front door. “Let me walk you out.”
I strode behind her and tried hard
not to focus on her enticing round bottom filling out the tight jeans or the
suede brown boots hugging her shapely calves. I had no right to be checking her
out this way but damn it all if I couldn’t help myself. I was a flesh and blood
man after all and sometime when I hadn’t been looking in the past four years
she had turned into a full-bosomed, long-legged, round bottomed woman. College
had rounded her out in all the right places; gotta love the freshman fifteen.
She paused just outside the front
door and leaned back against the brick wall of the porch, peering down at her
hands while fiddling with a small piece of paper. It was dark out except for
the light of the full moon which reflected off her hair. There was a slight
breeze and tiny nip of cold in the late May evening air.
“JT,” she said and hesitated.
Whatever it was she had to say, it was difficult for her. She stared out into
the night unable to meet my gaze. “I have a big favor to ask of you. And if you
don’t want to do it—well I’d totally understand—but I have to at least ask.”
She caught her bottom lip in her
teeth and tugged it back into her mouth to wet it with her tongue before
releasing it once more. I watched transfixed for a moment as the moonlight
reflected off her moist lip. Reaching out I turned her face toward me and then gently
brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes. Why was she suddenly so shy with
me?
“You know I’ll do anything you ask. There’s
no need to be worried.”
A smile lifted the corner of her
mouth as she gazed into my eyes. “Don’t jump the gun, JT. You don’t know what
I’m going to ask.”
“Shoot,” I said with an answering
smile. I couldn’t imagine anything she’d ask of me that wouldn’t fly.
“I have to go tomorrow late afternoon
to check out the venue for the wedding and reception, or alternatively the
life
celebration
for Grannie if I don’t find Mr. Right in time.”
“Do you need a ride over?” I asked,
anticipating her issue. “No problem. I’m free in the afternoon.”
Jordan ran her hand nervously through
her hair. “Um…that’s great. But I was hoping you could stay with me. What I
really need is a fiancé.”
I fought back the sudden urge to
inhale sharply. My mouth went dry and my heart hammered in my chest while I tried
to wrap my brain around her words. She wanted me to be her fiancé? Reality set
in quick…because clearly she wasn’t serious. Still I couldn’t resist the
opportunity to mess with her a little. Placing my hands on either side of her
against the wall, I supported my weight as I leaned into her, allowing her fresh
scent to fill my nostrils.
“Why Jordan,” I said in a husky
voice. “I had no idea you felt that way about me.”
She giggled and searched my eyes. I
could feel her breath on my lips. It smelled minty fresh. All I had to do was
lean in an inch and I would taste her sweet mouth. She rested her palms on my
chest for a few moments before pushing me gently away.
“On a temporary basis,” she said and laughed
nervously. “The reception hall manager insists on both the future bride and
groom being present to hammer out all of the fine details. Well. You know my
situation is a bit unusual.”
“And you’d rather not have to tell
her you’re planning your wedding without a groom?”
“Exactly,” Jordan said, running her
hand through her hair. “I don’t want to talk to strangers about Grannie’s
illness and her dying wish to watch me walk down the aisle. We don’t have much
time; maybe as short as five or six months. If I don’t find a groom in the next
two months as allotted, well then, we can use the venue to celebrate Grannie’s
life. But a wedding reception is a lot more intricate than a life celebration
party. So I have to move forward with the plans assuming it will be a wedding.”
Crossing my arms lightly over my
chest, I contemplated Jordan’s request. It unnerved me that I was chomping at
the bit to spend the evening alone with her. “Sure. I’ll be your fiancé…on a
temporary basis.” The corners of my mouth suddenly curved upward. “But it’s
going to cost you.”
“Naturally,” she said, rolling her
eyes. “What do you want in return?”
An array of ideas flooded my brain
and I was forced to bite the inside of my cheek to temper the grin fighting to
appear. She was my best friend’s sister so I shouldn’t flirt with her. But it
wasn’t my fault she had a scent that tempted me to bury my face in her chest
and rest there all night long. I desperately grabbed hold of the one thought
which seemed to be an appropriate response.
“I’m not much of a cook and a man can
only stand so much delivery pizza and Ramen Noodles. So I want a full-fledged
home cooked meal with all of the fixings. Main dish is my choice.”
“Deal.” Jordan sighed in relief and
held out her hand to shake on it.
I shook her hand firmly before
bringing it to my lips for a soft kiss. “What time should I pick you up?”
“Five o’clock. And wear something
business casual. We get to crash a wedding to try out the food and see what the
hall looks like when it’s all decked out.”
I sauntered out into the night and
waved goodbye over my shoulder. “I’m on it. See you then,
my love
.”
***
Jordan
The next afternoon I plopped down in a
chair at the kitchen table and surveyed all of the materials in front of me:
miniature copy of my diploma, graduation invitation, ticket to the event,
ceremony program and a picture of me replete in cap and gown. Yep. That should
do it. I turned to Grannie with a soft smile.
“Are you ready to get started
Grannie? You’re sure you’re not too tired?”
“I’m ready, Jordan.” Tears sparkled
in Grannie’s eyes as she reached out and grabbed my hand, giving it a quick
squeeze. “I can’t believe this is the last milestone we’re going to document in
your scrapbook, Sweet Pea.”
I fought to keep the sting of tears
from burning my eyes. Grannie reserved using the endearment for our special
time together working on the scrapbook. A hint of a smile appeared on my face
while recalling the first time my father had used the nickname. I couldn’t have
been more than three years old which, if not a valid excuse, at least explained
the tantrum I’d had about eating the mound of peas on my plate. I remembered
the tantrum quite well, and the bowl of strawberries afterward, but the rest
was fuzzy.