The Billionaire's Temporary Bride (Scandal, Inc #3)(30)

"Well, it's not hanging upside down like last year. That's a good start," Pete said.

"One second," Jack said. He braced himself against the roof as the rain started to fall harder. All Charlotte could think was that Jack was going to slip and fall and it would all be her fault, but of course, he didn't. He leaned a bit further forward and repositioned the witch over the porch, quickly nailing it into place before climbing down and handing the hammer to Pete. Jack looked at Charlotte and then back up to admire his handy work. He was pleased with himself.

"You know, it might be a little crooked," Charlotte teased.

"It's perfect," her father said. "If your political career comes to ruin, you can always fall back on hammering nails for a living."

"I might just do that," Jack said. He stepped a bit farther back down the walkway and looked up at the witch again. "You're right, Charlotte. It's off, but I can fix it."

"Nonsense, it's fine," Pete replied. "Witches are like politicians anyway."

"How's that?" Jack asked.

"They're all a little crooked," Pete said with a laugh.

Jack smiled and shook his head. He walked back over to the ladder. "It will just take a second."

The rain had grown stronger and heavier, and Charlotte stepped up onto the dry porch. "I was just ribbing you, Jack," she said. "The witch is fine. Come inside before you hurt yourself."

Instead of a response, she got to watch Jack climb back up the ladder as the skies darkened even further. Her father joined her on the porch and they listened to the sounds of the hammer as Jack pried out nails and drove them back in until finally the witch was on straight.

When he climbed back down the ladder, he looked like someone had tossed him into a lake with all his clothes on. His hair stuck to his forehead, and streaks of water ran over his face. His silk shirt was plastered to his body, leaving little imagination required to picture his muscular chest. Charlotte grabbed the hammer from him and shook her head. Jack smiled sheepishly.

"On second thought, I might just stick to my day job," he said.

Pete placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Charlotte, help your fiancé find some dry clothes while I go help your mother with dinner. There should be something in my dresser that will work. The waist might be a little too big, and the legs will probably be a bit short, but I'm sure you can make it work."

Charlotte led Jack inside and ushered him up the stairs. She pointed to her bedroom.

"Wait in there," she said. "I'll be back in a minute."

Jack started unbuttoning his shirt before she could turn away. He was enjoying himself. She could tell. She just hoped that he didn't enjoy himself a bit too much at her expense, especially after she'd sent him up that ladder in the rain.

She headed down the hall to her parents' bedroom. It was strange to be home again and even stranger to be there with Jack. Charlotte hadn't introduced a boyfriend to her parents since college. She hadn't seen the point. Now she had brought home a fiancé. She wondered what her parents must be thinking.

As she stepped into their room, everything was just how she remembered it but cleaner. Every inch of the room had been dusted, and every item of clothing had been neatly folded away. Charlotte felt a twinge of regret deep in her stomach. News of her engagement must have surprised the hell out of her parents, and now they were clearly doing their best to make a good first impression on their son-in-law-to-be. She wished she could tell them that it was all just for show.

Charlotte ransacked her parents' room looking for something suitable for Jack. The best she could do was an old sweatshirt of her father's and a pair of pants that she knew wouldn't really fit. She grabbed a towel from the linen closet and headed back to her room. She pushed the door open and held out a towel.

Charlotte's room looked almost exactly the same as it had on the day she'd moved out years ago. The bookshelves were still crammed with books. Even on a rainy day, light poured in through the windows, making the room bright and cheery. It would have been nice to come back to if it weren't for one big difference: Jack stood in the center of the room, wearing nothing but a smile.

"A little privacy?" he said.

"A little modesty?" Charlotte shot back.

Jack shook his head. "You chould have knocked. Besides, you were the one so eager to get my clothes off."

"It's nothing I haven't already seen," Charlotte replied. "Or have you already forgotten about that?"

She tossed him the sweatshirt and pants. She averted her eyes from his naked physique and looked down at his crumpled dress shirt on the floor.

"How much is that shirt worth now?" she asked.

Jack didn't answer. Instead he stepped into the pants. She was right that they were too wide and too short for him, but as expected, he made it work.

"I like your dad," Jack said. "And your house, it's just how I thought it would be. You make much more sense now."

"What does that mean?" Charlotte asked as Jack tossed her his rain-soaked pants.

"It means it's wonderful. Again, I really like your dad," he laughed. Jack checked himself out in the mirror and shook his head. "That being said, I knew I should have brought a change of clothes."