The Holiday Swap(68)
She took a small sip of the water, hoping she didn’t cough it all over Jake and his fancy suit.
“Thanks,” she croaked out, smiling as she tapped her chest a few times and cleared her throat. “First my low blood sugar incident in the square. Then flat on my back on the trail. Then almost knocking over the cupcake display. Now choking on an energy bar . . .” Charlie took another sip of water. “I promise I’m not always like this. I’m usually pretty good at taking care of myself.”
“Nothing wrong with needing a bit of help here and there,” Jake replied, smiling as he turned his attention back to the screwdriver. He took off the snowflake’s backing and switched out the batteries for fresh ones Charlie had in her purse. They stood close now, and Charlie’s insides got that melty feeling again as she looked into Jake’s face, wondering if he was feeling the same way. It only took a moment’s glance to understand he was. The way he looked at her, like there was nowhere else he would rather be, unraveled Charlie further and she leaned impossibly close to him . . . so close they could almost . . .
All of a sudden the snowflake lit up in Jake’s hands.
“Ah! Look at that,” she said.
“Look at that,” Jake repeated softly, his eyes not leaving hers. He stepped toward her, the warmly lit snowflake glowing in his hand. Charlie held her breath. Then he was in front of her, placing the snowflake in her hands, but he didn’t let go, instead letting his fingers circle around hers. She wasn’t even self-conscious about her messy hair, or the icing smears on her apron, or the fact that she was supposed to be focusing on getting that snowflake on top of the cupcake tower.
Charlie breathed Jake in as he tugged her closer, his hands still circling hers.
“Cass,” he started, closing his eyes momentarily. “I don’t know if I can be just friends.” The last part he practically whispered, but he said it fervently. “Or I should say, I don’t know if I want to.” His voice broke and Charlie knew this was the point of no return.
She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, their hands still clinging to the glowing snowflake between them. Charlie wasn’t sure for how long they were like that, the slow and steady pressure of Jake’s lips on hers, the rest of the world fading away. She didn’t want this to end, because she finally had to admit once and for all that what she felt for Jake wasn’t some furious crush that would burn out.
“Hey . . . Oh, sorry about that, kids.”
Charlie jerked away from Jake, putting a hand to her lips and looking at the door, where Chief Matthews stood.
“So, Greenman, the ceremony’s about to start.”
Jake managed to get a “Thanks, Chief,” out, his eyes still on Charlie.
Chief Matthews replied, “No problem,” and then tapped his hand on the doorframe before leaving. The room was suddenly quiet except for the bars of classical music that now eked into the kitchen from the library’s main room.
“You’d better go,” Charlie said. His fingers lingered as he placed the snowflake in her hands, then he grinned and bit his bottom lip. She felt suddenly shy, like a love-sick teenager, and grinned back.
“We’re not done here.” Jake raised an eyebrow. Charlie could only nod, impatient to learn what that actually meant.
* * *
? ? ?
“I brought you something.” Jake stood in front of her, two glasses of champagne in his hands. “Figured you deserved a bit of good cheer after those amazing cupcakes.” The ceremony and reception were long over, everything having gone smoothly, but Charlie didn’t immediately take the glass he held out to her.
“Thanks, but I shouldn’t really drink on the job,” she said. Then she glanced at the bride and groom, who were dancing in slow circles in the middle of the room surrounded by a dozen or so guests doing a similar sway to the music. “Though, technically I guess I’m off the clock now.”
She took the champagne flute from Jake. “I guess one can’t hurt.” With a smile she clinked her glass to his and took a small sip, the sharp effervescence of the drink tickling her nose.
“Achoo!” She turned to the side and sneezed; some champagne sloshed out of her glass. Champagne dripped down her hand and onto the linen tablecloth. “Seriously, you can’t take me anywhere.”
Jake laughed and helped her sop up the champagne with a napkin. “Let’s put these down for a minute,” he said, taking the glass from her and setting it down on the table beside his own. Then he leaned in close and said, “Come with me.”
Charlie allowed Jake to lead her out of the room, weaving between dancing couples to make their way back to the kitchen, only worrying briefly about someone seeing him holding her hand. Then she remembered him saying We’re not done here and her heart rate picked up, her palms starting to sweat. Charlie wondered if Jake could feel the same electricity she was experiencing as his fingers held her own.
They ducked into the kitchen, which was mostly dark except for the lamplight that streamed through the stained-glass window. Jake shut the door behind him, and suddenly they were completely alone. Charlie held her breath, waiting . . . For precisely what, she wasn’t sure.
Jake leaned back against the countertop. “Come here,” he said gruffly as he pulled her toward him. This was a different side of Jake than she’d seen before. He still held the same gentle, searching gaze that always made her feel like he wanted nothing more than to really get to know her—all of her flaws, too. His confident steadiness was intact, too, and Charlie found that comforting, particularly amid the chaos of her current life. It was all she could do to control her breathing.