For a moment, the panic returned, clawing at her throat, trying to find a way out, but she pushed it down, back into her stomach. “I’d like to meet them.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to pressure you. They’re not going anywhere, and neither am I.” Grabbing her chin, he tilted her face up so that their eyes met again. “I can feel the anxiety pulsing off you.”
Sighing, she rested her face against the white tee-shirt that he wore, enjoyed the feeling of his warm, muscular chest beneath the fabric. There was something so comforting, she thought, about the heat of his skin soaking through his clothes to her cheek, something so calming about the smell of him.
She tried to put her thoughts in a rational order, tried to figure out how she could tell him what she was feeling. Eventually, she settled with, “I haven’t seen my own parents in twelve years.” When his arms tightened around her, she added, “And I’ve never met any boyfriend’s parents before. It’s always been the one stage that I’ve pulled back from.”
“I don’t want to pressure you,” he said again. “I’m just going to run in and grab that box. You can stay in the car. I’ll be two minutes and then we can go and drink wine and forget it ever happened, well…until you’re actually ready to meet them.”
God, girl, you are pathetic. Just bite the bullet. At least if things go horribly wrong, it’ll be over quickly. He said so himself; he’s going to be two minutes.
Jacob was stroking small circles on her back and Lola leaned into his hand, feeling significantly calmed by the small gesture. He wouldn’t push her, she realized. Despite how much his family meant to him, he wouldn’t ask her to meet them until she was ready. Knowing it didn’t make her feel any more comfortable with the idea, but it did make her want to try. For him.
“I’ll come in,” she said, finally. “Especially if it’s only for a minute or two.”
He nodded and kissed her forehead. “Thank you. I know that it’s not easy for you. But don’t worry, they’ll love you as much as I do.”
She felt her entire body freeze, felt her grip around him tighten at the exact moment that her heart flipped over in her chest. Did he just say…
“How much longer do you need to get ready?” he asked, taking a full step away from her, his face completely calm, his green eyes blank.
“Ah…” her mind reeled for a second, “five minutes. I just have to finish my makeup.” She hopped off the bed and, grabbing her mascara, padded back to the bathroom so that she could finish.
Looking in the mirror, she noticed the pink blush in her face, even under her makeup, and she consciously forced it from her cheeks.
He hadn’t even realized that he’d said it, she thought. But still…She shook her head. Focus. Just because she had fallen head over heels did not mean that he had too. He definitely liked her—that much was obvious. He definitely wanted her. But that did not equate to being in love with her. Did it?
Because she needed the distraction, she hurriedly applied her mascara and slipped into the pair of strappy, black heels that she had already put by the door. In under five minutes, she and Jacob were in the car, driving towards the Simmone’s house and what Lola hoped was not going to be a completely disastrous introduction to his family.
He pulled into his parents’ wide driveway and put the car in park. “Last chance to back out,” he said, looking over at Lola.
She stared forward, her hair a wild, mane of curls around her pale face. The little black dress that she was wearing had ridden up her thighs, leaving her long, slender legs exposed. He felt himself harden perceptibly and clenched his jaw as he tried to bite back the lust.
She shook her head, but he could tell that she was anxious by the way she flicked the watch at her wrist, a hurried tap, tap, tap as her nail hit the silver strap over and over again. “I can do this.”
Because he could tell that she was freaking out, he cupped her cheek and, leaning over the center console of his SUV, crushed his mouth to hers. “Yes, you can,” he said when he finally broke the kiss. “They’re relatively harmless. I promise.”
He smiled, even though his stomach lurched at the thought of his rambunctious family swarming her all at once. He hadn’t even told them that he’d be bringing her over, bringing his…girlfriend over. The thought made him want to grin. Until he turned and saw her eyes flickering uncertainly to the house.
Because he could see that she needed additional prompting, he opened his door and stepped outside. The sound of his brother, Hudson, yelling, “Mom! Jake’s here!” drifted through an open window somewhere, just as Lola stepped outside. Great. Her eyes went wide, and, given their doe-brown color, he couldn’t help but think that she looked like a deer in the headlights.
She glanced towards the sprawling Hacienda-style house once and, just when he thought she might balk, she straightened her spine and took a solid step towards him, interlacing her fingers with his when he offered her his outstretched hand.
A part of him couldn’t believe that the spunky, independent woman that he knew had recoiled into the petrified one before him now, and a not-so-small part of him wondered about her upbringing, about the people who’d raised her and then abandoned her to the world at eighteen.
Sighing, he led her towards the house, squeezed her hand in encouragement when it trembled a little in his. He knew intrinsically that she’d fit in with his family, knew that they’d legitimately love her and make her feel at home. But he also wondered if the part of her that was so scared would ever heal completely. He wanted her, wanted to marry her, and have a family with her—e’d already come to terms with that. But judging by the haunted look in her eye and the way that she’d frozen block-solid when he’d let slip that he loved her earlier, she was going to need more time than he’d anticipated.
Hopefully not too long.
Now that he’d found her, every moment that they weren’t together felt like time wasted. The front door opening redirected his thoughts, but only because her hand tensed in his.
“Jake?”
He looked up at the front door to see both his parents standing under the light of the foyer, their shoulders touching, their faces wearing twin expressions of polite curiosity.
“Hey,” he said. “Sorry to stop by unannounced, but you said today was the cutoff to stop by and pick up that box…”
“Oh, yes!” His mom grinned. “The box.”
When nobody moved, he said, “This is Lola, the girl I told you about. Lola, these are my parents, Phil and June.” He tried to make the greeting as casual as possible, but when his mom beamed a smile at Lola, Jake felt like slapping his palm to his face.
Oh, God.
He should have guessed as much; he had, after all, gone from being married to his high school sweetheart and over at his parent’s house nearly every day to divorced, single, and swinging by for family dinner once a week out of pure guilt alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with them, because he did. It was just that every time he saw his parents together, still so happy after forty-something years, he felt like a huge failure. His marriage had been doomed from the start and he should have seen it, should never have married her in the first place.