Page 23

Chapter twenty-two

Don’t you know a VPL can ruin an otherwise fantastic outfit?

Charlie

I ’m staring at the mirror, debating whether this dress is too much.

It’s not what I’d usually wear, especially not to a Thanksgiving dinner with Jake’s friends, but Zoe insisted it was the one . With my makeup done and hair cascading over my shoulders, I have to admit it does look good. Tight, yes, but not over-the-top.

My phone buzzes with a message from Jake's #1 Fan Club ??

Zoe : Send me a pic. I wanna see if my hard work’s paid off x

I snap a full length mirror selfie, flipping her off with my free hand. Her response is almost immediate.

Zoe: HOT. But girl, are you seriously wearing those panties? ??

Me: What’s wrong with my panties?

Zoe: VPL! Can se e it from here. Lose them.

Rolling my eyes, I glance in the mirror, tilting my hips. Shit. She’s right. It’s a faint but undeniably visible panty line.

Me: Fine, commando it is. But if I flash Jake’s friends, I’m blaming you.

Zoe: You’ll be thanking me when Jake can’t keep his hands off you. Trust me.

Laughing, I toss my phone aside. Zoe makes everything sound so simple, but today feels like a big step. Bigger than the fundraiser, where I was just ‘the friend who made cakes.’

Today, I’m… what? His date? His something-more? Everything’s been moving fast, and we haven’t defined it yet, which ties my stomach in knots.

My phone buzzes again.

Jake: Just leaving mine. Be there in 15

Me: K. Warning—Meadow’s bouncing off the walls!

Jake: Good. I’ll bring the tranquilizers ??

Me: If only…

Jake: You look beautiful, by the way. I’m already picturing that dress on the floor later.

I grin at his words, which make absolutely no sense as he hasn’t se en me. I’m not used to this kind of effortless flirtation. This easy confidence. Especially from someone who sets my skin on fire. It’s been so long since I felt like this with anyone, and I can’t deny how much I enjoy it.

Me: You haven’t even seen what I’m wearing ??

Jake: Don’t need to. I already know you’ll look perfect

Me: Flattery will get you everywhere, Brooks

Jake: That’s the plan, Lady Lightning

Smiling, I tuck my phone away and head downstairs to check on the kids who are watching cartoons. Meadow twirls in her princess dress, her little face lit with joy, while Noah sulks on the couch, casting a baleful eye down at his outfit.

“You look like a prince,” I say to him, adjusting his collar as he squirms.

“I don’t wanna be a prince,” he mutters. “Can I just wear my hoodie?”

“Not today,” I say, ruffling his hair. “Besides, Jake’s friends are going to think you look really cool.”

He grumbles, but his shoulders relax a bit. Progress. He’s been becoming more independent, but his moodiness usually fades whenever Jake or Zoe is around.

The doorbell rings, and Meadow bolts for it. “Jake’s here!”

Taking a deep breath, I give myself a final glance in the foyer mirror—tight dress, no VPL—and open the door. Jake stands there holding a bouquet of flowers, looking far too good in a casual shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

“Wow,” he stammers. “You look…” My heart does a little flip when his eyes roam down my body.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I say, taking the flowers as he steps in, his hand slipping to the small of my back. His touch is grounding, and I can feel the warmth of his palm through the fabric of my dress.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” he replies, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. His hand lingers at my waist, thumb grazing my hip. “I brought something for the kids, too.”

Meadow’s eyes light up as Jake pulls out two boxes wrapped in shiny paper. “What is it?”

“Open and see,” Jake says, crouching to their level.

The kids tear into the paper, revealing a new animal family set for Meadow and a LEGO box for Noah. Seeing their delight, I feel a swell of gratitude for this man who just gets it.

“Thank you, Jake!” Meadow squeals, hugging his leg. Noah gives a shy smile, mumbling his thanks before retreating slightly, still holding the gift.

“You’re welcome,” Jake chuckles, picking Meadow up with one arm, tendons rippling his forearm as he does so. I try to restrain myself at the sight of it.

“You ready?” Jake asks, eyes on mine.

I nod, composing myself. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The drive to Ryan and Claire’s is filled with Meadow’s excited questions and Noah’s attempt to play it cool, though he keeps sneaking glances at the LEGO box on his lap. Jake reaches over and gives my knee a gentle squeeze.

“You doing okay?” His voice is low and intimate, just for me.

I smile as his thumb sweeps up and down. “Yeah, think so. A little nervous.”

“You look incredible, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush a little as we stop at a red light. “Zoe insisted I wear it. Said it was a winner.”

“She was right.” He gives me a once-over, slow and deliberate. I turn to the window, biting my mouth closed to keep it from spreading across my face.

At Ryan and Claire’s, the warm, savory scent of butter and sage mingles with the faint tang of citrus, carrying a richness that feels unmistakably like Thanksgiving. Ryan greets us with a broad grin, while Claire stands beside him, her hands resting on her growing belly.

“Welcome!” Claire says, pulling me into a quick hug. We’ve met once before, but she’s so warm and welcoming it’s hard not to feel like I’ve known her forever. “We hoped Jake would bring you all.”

“Thanks so much for having us,” I say, nerves dissolving. “Your home is beautiful.”

Inside, the place is buzzing with conversation and laughter. It’s exactly what I would imagine Thanksgiving should feel like—cozy, welcoming, and full of life. This isn’t some formal event. It feels relaxed, like I’m already part of the family.

Zoe swoops in, hugging me tight. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She turns to Meadow and Noah, leading them excitedly toward the rec room. “Games and snacks this way, guys!”

Elijah ambles over from the sofa and claps Jake on the shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour, finally bringing Charlotte around.” He turns to me. “We hoped you’d come and put us out of our misery.”

“Oh really?” I shoot Jake a teasing glance. “Been talking about me, huh?”

Jake chuckles, completely unrepentant as he tightens his arm around me. “Only the good stuff. Maybe a few of the bad, just to keep them interested.”

“You’re too kind,” I say, giving him a playful nudge. He squeezes my waist in return, his hand lingering a little longer than necessary.

“Chase is here somewhere too… probably trying to convince the kids to play indoor football. You might want to rescue them,” Claire says, gesturing toward the hallway.

I laugh, feeling some of the tension ease. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Jake squeezes my waist once more before I drag myself out of his grip and head toward the large rec room, leaving him to speak to his friends for a moment.

I walk into a scene of organized chaos: Zoe is leading Meadow and Noah in a game of tag, while Chase is trying to convince them to play indoor football instead. The room is large enough that the kids are zipping around, both Zoe and Chase trying to convince them to be on the other’s team. Meadow is giggling, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and even Noah looks like he’s having fun.

“Hey, boss lady!” Zoe calls out, waving me over. “Come join the fun!”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I think I’ll leave the running around to you. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on Chase. I don’t trust him not to throw a football at one of my kids’ heads.”

Chase scoffs. “I would never!”

Zoe rolls her eyes, clearly not buying it. “Don’t listen to him, Charli e—he’s been trying to convince me to play tackle football all afternoon.”

“I’d pay to see that,” I say.

Chase waggles his eyebrows. “I’m sure we can arrange something.”

Zoe swats him with a playful glare.

The banter is light and easy, and I feel a sense of belonging creep a little further in. This is Jake’s world, and he’s invited me into it, giving me a place beside him that feels comfortable.

Jake appears at my back, his hand instinctively finding the curve of my waist, head dipping close to my ear.

“Hey, Coach,” he calls out to Chase, keeping his grip anchored on me. “You thinking about switching careers?”

Chase grins, shaking his head. “Nah, just trying to keep the kids from tackling Zoe. She’s already threatened to break my kneecaps if I don’t keep it non-contact .”

“I said no tackle football , Walton. They're children, not linebackers.” She turns her attention back to the kids. “Who’s ready for some snacks?”

We watch the kids cheer and careen off with Zoe, having the best time of their lives. “See?” Jake says, breath tickling my neck. “They’re having a blast.”

I hum, leaning back into him. “They’re gonna be hyped on sugar thanks to her.”

Before he can respond, Claire steps in, inviting me into the kitchen with her and Tamara. Jake squeezes my hand once, as if to let me know he’s here if I need him, and then I follow Claire.

The kitchen is a warm, inviting space, filled with the sounds of bubbling pots and the occasional clatter of utensils. Tamara is already pulling out wine, pouring a glass and handing it to me when we enter. I take it gratefully.

Claire hands me a bowl of fresh cranberries and a recipe card, her easy smile calming something restless in me. They’re not just welcoming me—they’re folding me in, like I belong here. “Are you any good at cranberry sauce? It’s a family recipe, but I’m terrible at it.”

Tamara looks over from the stove, her eyebrows shooting up. “Wa it, you’re making cranberry sauce? Like, from actual cranberries ?”

Claire nods, wincing slightly. “Yeah. I know it’s a crime, but my mom insisted on homemade every year, so it’s a habit.”

Tamara groans dramatically, leaning her hip against the counter. “Homemade cranberry sauce is an abomination. Nobody likes it. You know what’s better? The stuff in the can that comes out solid with the little ridges still on it. That’s cranberry sauce.”

“What?” I blink at her, completely lost. “Cranberry sauce comes in a can?”

“Oh, Charlie,” Tamara says, her expression serious, like she’s about to deliver earth-shattering news. “Yes. And it’s glorious. You open the can, it slides out in one perfect jiggling tube, and you slice it like a loaf. None of this homemade nonsense.”

Claire shakes her head, laughing as she turns back to her chopping board. “You’re terrible.”

“No, I’m right,” Tamara fires back, waggling her spoon in Claire’s direction. “Be honest, when’s the last time anyone actually ate the homemade stuff?”

Ryan walks in, grabbing a roll from the counter. “What are we arguing about?”

“Homemade cranberry sauce,” Claire answers, shooting him a look. “And how someone —” she glances at Tamara, “—thinks the canned stuff is superior.”

“Because it is!” Tamara says, throwing her hands up.

Ryan pauses mid-chew, considering. “I hate to say it, but Tam’s got a point. That canned stuff is weirdly addictive.”

“Thank you!” Tamara says triumphantly. “See? Ryan knows what’s up.”

Claire rolls her eyes, turning to me. “What about you, Charlie? What’s your take?”

I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “I have no idea. We don’t do Thanksgiving in New Zealand, let alone this whole cranberry sauce debate. This is uncharted territory for me.”

Tamara grins, leaning closer. “Okay, here’s the deal. If your cranberry sauce actually turns out, I’ll eat it. But if not, I brought a can with me and I’m not afraid to use it.”

I laugh as I set to work on the recipe. “No press ure, then.”

As the afternoon goes on, the conversation flows easily, and I find myself enjoying theircompany more than I expected. Claire is sweet and nurturing, while Tamara has a dry sense of humor that catches me off guard in the best way.

“So, how’s it actually going with Jake?” Tamara asks after a while, her tone casual but curious.

I shrug. “It’s going well. We’re still figuring things out.”

“He’s crazy about you, you know. He talks about you nonstop,” Claire replies knowingly. “He seems happier.”

I glance at her, unsure what to say. “Really?”

Tamara nods. “Agreed. He’s always been great, but there’s something different about him now. It’s a good thing.”

Her words warm me, but they also make me think about how much has changed for me, too. Jake has been a constant in a time of uncertainty, and being here today surrounded by his friends, makes me realize just how much I really do want him in my life.

My cheeks heat, but I manage to keep my tone even. “Yeah, well, he’s pretty great.”

“And today’s going to be great, too,” Tamara says confidently, noting my blush and topping up my glass of wine.

As the day turns into evening, I realize I haven’t seen the kids for a while and wander down the hallway towards the rec room to check on them.

To my left, a bathroom door opens and Jake steps. He gives me a slow, devilish smile and grabs my hand, pulling me back inside with him.

The door clicks shut behind us, and suddenly I'm caged up against the bathroom wall.

“Hi,” he murmurs, face inches from mine.

“Hi,” I reply, my voice barely a whisper as my hands settle on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.

“You doing okay?” His breath is warm against my skin as he dips his head, pressing his lips to the curve of my jaw.

Laughing, I tilt my head to give him better access. “Are you doing okay?”

His mouth brushes just beneath my ear, and I can feel his subtle smirk that ’s now my undoing.

“No… it’s agony keeping my hands off you.” A hand slides down to my hip.

I stifle a laugh, leaning into his chest. “Really? In here?”

“Just one kiss,” he says, lips grazing my earlobe. “Maybe two.”

I swallow. This is far too dangerous for me to remain composed for just one kiss. The man is a walking pheromone, all I want to do is shred his shirt right off him.

“Jake Brooks.” I nudge his chest to create some distance, but he doesn’t budge. “This is a family-friendly event”

“Not in this bathroom, it isn’t.”

“Get off me, you creep,” I chuckle, pressing against his chest again.

“Make me.”

He’s too close, too magnetic, and my brain scrambles. I clear my throat, trying to regain some control. “Seriously, Captain Thunder? That’s the best you've got?”

“Stick around and you'll find out, Lady Lightning,” he husks, the edge in his voice deliciously dangerous. Before I can retort, he speaks again. “And it should be illegal that you’re allowed to walk around like this.”

“Like what?”

His voice drops to a low rumble. “Why aren’t you wearing any underwear?”

“VPL,” I say matter-of-factly. “Don’t you know a visible panty line can ruin an otherwise perfect outfit, Jake?”

He chuckles, gripping my sides. “You’re killin’ me.”

“Only if you’re lucky.”

“I’m feeling very lucky,” he says, head dipping closer. His eyes roam my face as he lets out a tortured groan, then his lips are on mine. Hands skim down over my hips, finally settling at my ass as he pulls me tighter against him. I melt into him as he deepens the kiss, his mouth stealing every coherent thought.

His lips are warm, and I can taste the faint hint of the beer he had earlier. The bathroom suddenly feels too small as he presses me back further against the door, his touch everywhere.

Finally, he pulls back, breath hot against my lips as he res ts his forehead on mine. “You have no idea how hard it is to stop.”

I exhale shakily, my hands still gripping his shoulders. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop…”

“Then we better get out of here before I bend you over the sink.”

Letting out a shaky laugh, I step back as he reluctantly releases me, eyes still filled with heat as he adjusts himself. He opens the door, brushing a final kiss to the corner of my mouth, thumb grazing my cheek as if he’s memorizing every second of this.

I smile as he takes my hand and leads me out, his lips still lingering on my skin as we rejoin the gathering.