Date Night (Wish Come True Book 1) Page 2

  “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.

  Chapter Two

  The Request

  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 he
r 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.

  “Why did Dad call me Sweet Pea?” Grannie had lived with us for as long as I could remember. If anyone knew, she would.

  “Well,” Grannie started, “your dad was stubborn and insisted you were going to learn to eat what was put on your plate. He patiently watched you through the worst of the gagging and crying as you ate a pile of peas. All five of them. He called it a ‘no thank you’ portion. And when it was over, he pulled you onto his lap to wipe away your tears and fed you the bowl of strawberries covered in sugar which had been your incentive for choking down the peas. ‘That’s my Sweet Pea,’ he cooed to you.”

  “Dad teased me with the nickname whenever I was acting feisty. It always calmed me immediately when he called me Sweat Pea.” I chuckled softly. “I’m like Pavlov’s dog. He trained me into being docile with his sugar coated strawberries. Brilliant.”

  I grabbed the scrapbook lying in front of Grannie and opened it from the back. “There are four pages left.” I pursed my lips and took a deep breath. “Let’s use two pages—just in case we have one more milestone in the near future.” I felt a gentle smile creep over my face while Grannie beamed at me.

  “I had Jared pick up this blue wrapping paper earlier today,” Grannie said, reaching for the paper and a pair of scissors. “It looks just like the Grand Valley State University color, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s awesome. I love it.”

  “Let’s use it to create…” we both said in unison and then burst out laughing, “…blue frames.”

  We were so in tuned with each other after having worked on the scrapbook for the last fourteen years together; ever since my father had died when I was eight years old. The scrapbook had been Grannie’s idea. It was a way for us to honor my father’s memory and allow him to share in the major milestones of my life.

  Grannie’s favorite radio station played in the background as we went about our work, cutting and pasting and rem
iniscing about my graduation day as well as the years of hard work that led up to the event. Years that had kept me away from my home and from my family.

  Grannie glued in the picture of me in cap and gown. “I’m so proud of you Jordan. You know your dad is smiling down at you now, honey. He was so worried about having a little princess who wouldn’t be able to take care of herself when she grew up. It was his mission to make sure you were independent and self-sufficient and your mother carried it out brilliantly. He must be proud as can be, especially with you following in his footsteps.”

  I chuckled. “An elementary school teacher with an emphasis in special education is hardly equivalent to a university professor. But I appreciate the kind words.” I leaned over and cradled Grannie’s hand in mine. A small stream of tears flooded over my lashes. “I only wish I had studied closer to home…so maybe…I think I would’ve seen the signs.”

  Grannie grabbed my chin, lifting my face to look at me eye to eye. “It is not your fault I am a stubborn old woman and didn’t go to the doctor for annual physicals. I’ve already told you I didn’t have any noticeable symptoms until it was too late. Unfortunately that is rather common with colon cancer. The only way I could’ve had a fighting chance was to find the cancer early through annual check-ups. It’s a hard learned lesson I hope your mother, you and your brother will benefit from.”

  “Life is not fair,” I said as my tears continued to silently fall.

  “Truer words have never been spoken.” Grannie reached over to grab a piece of paper and pen. “Life is never fair and you’ll do well to remember it. It’s what we do with the life we’ve been given that matters. Now it’s time to write our letters to your daddy.”

  I took the single sheet of paper Grannie offered me and sat back in the chair to choose my words carefully. It always started out the same and it was always brief but heartfelt.