Page 33 of Home for the Holidays

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Rachel

Two days after the world goes back to normal, tonight is the team’s holiday party. I texted Vanessa about the dress code and she was much more helpful than Jake was. I think I have a dress figured out.

She also suggested we get our nails done together. I’m sure she’s dying for the gossip. I’ve been holding out on my friends. Aside from a quick text in the group chat that I found a place to stay, I’ve been keeping a low profile. I even skipped our monthly Neurospicy Book Club meetup.

I’m sure my friends want to make sure I’m okay, but sometimes their concern is smothering. It’s one of many reasons I stopped couch surfing and agreed to stay here. They mean well. They love hard. I’m just not always good at accepting their love.

It’s a common thread in my life.

Jake wanders into the kitchen, his hair mussed from sleep. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweats—and nothing else.

“Morning,” he says, reaching me and kissing my cheek. He pulls me into his arms and I wrap mine around his neck. He smells good, his fresh Irish Spring scent comforting me.

“Mm. Morning.” I offer him a sip of my coffee, but he shakes his head.

“Let’s go back to bed. Let’s spend the entire day naked,” he says.

With a laugh, I pull back. “You have practice. And I have plans.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He heads toward the coffee maker, then pauses. “Plans?”

“I’m meeting Vanessa.”

He gives me a faint smile, his eyes bright. “I like Van. She’s cool.”

“I’m glad you approve,” I say dryly.

Secretly, I am glad he likes my friends. It would make this infinitely more difficult if they didn’t get along.

Jake makes us both breakfast and we sit at the kitchen counter elbow to elbow. It’s nice, having someone at my side.

After I do the dishes—it’s only fair since he cooked—I go to get ready for my nail appointment and he gets dressed for practice. We head out the door at the same time.

“Oh, here,” Jake says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out his wallet and offers me a credit card.

I don’t take the card. “What’s this for?”

“For your nails,” he says.

I stare up at him. “I can pay for my own nails.”

“Yeah. But I want to treat you,” he says.

“I’m a big girl. I don’t need your money,” I tell him.

“I know you are. And I know you don’t,” Jake says evenly. He inhales sharply. “I want to do something nice for you. Will you please let me pamper you?”

With a sigh, I relent. He’s clumsy about it, but he’s being sweet. He has good intentions.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He tips my chin up. “I just want to take care of you,” he says. “I want to make you happy.”

“You don’t have to buy me things to make me happy. I just want you.”

Jake brushes a kiss against my lips. “Me, too.”