Crazy for You Page 6

  “Now don’t pitch a hissy fit, baby,” Grandma Etta’s soft and sure voice responded. “If she can handle all those nosy reporters, she can handle judging a sweet tea contest.”

  Theresa is officially my favorite family member. Charlotte narrowed her gaze at Jake. No thanks to her fake boyfriend, whose body shook with silent laughter.

  “Go on, now.” Gerald waved at the tea again. “We promise we won’t have any hard feelings.”

  “O-okay.” Darn it! She picked up the glass to her right and lifted it to her mouth. After hesitating for a few seconds, she gulped down some courage followed by the cold, brown beverage. She smacked her lips. “Very good. I love the fresh-squeezed lemon, and there’s a nice balance of sugar.”

  Jake full-out laughed this time. “Who knew you were so good at this?”

  She shrugged. “I’m from the South, too. You know we take our sweet tea very seriously.”

  Gerald wiggled his brows and smiled. “Son, did I tell you how much I approve of your lady?” His dad turned to the fridge and returned with a glass of milk. “Take a few seconds and cleanse your palate. Then try the next one.”

  Jake lifted an eyebrow. “Since when did you add milk to the competition?”

  Gerald shrugged and sat beside him. “Learned it from the Food Channel your mother always has on. I don’t want people to mix my work of art with Mama Etta’s backwoods tea.”

  Charlotte choked on the milk she’d been drinking.

  “Now don’t make me get up and conk you over the head with my cane, Gerald.”

  He lifted his hands in the air in surrender. “Don’t get yourself all worked up, Mama Etta. Save that energy for the disappointment you’ll have when you lose.”

  Lifting her cane, she pushed Jake’s chest back. “Move, JR. Let me at your daddy.”

  Charlotte quickly lifted the glass of tea and swallowed. “Mmm!” she yelled. “This one is good.” She smacked her lips again, trying to get a feel of the flavors. “This one has a nice lemon-lime taste. Oh, and I detect a hint of orange, too. Very nice. Both are really, really good!”

  Jake’s dad leaned in closer. “But which one is the best?”

  Everyone went silent. Even Theresa stopped her ministrations over the stove and looked at Charlotte expectantly.

  “I . . . umm . . . ” She looked to Jake for help. His eyes pointed down. She followed his silent direction, and she saw his finger form the number one.

  She took a deep breath. One it is.

  “Well, after much deliberation, I think the best tea is—”

  “Unka Jake!”

  Two pigtails whipped past Charlotte and jumped into Jake’s lap.

  “Hey, Ava baby. How’s my beautiful niece doing?”

  Thank God! Charlotte’s shoulders sagged, and she wiped the sweat that had formed over her brow.

  She caught Theresa laughing at her antics. Jake’s mom smiled and winked.

  The little girl tugged on his T-shirt. “I so happy you here, Unka Jake!”

  The sight of Unka Jake in a fitted tee, looking at his niece adoringly, was too much for Charlotte’s ovaries.

  Three other little people ran into the kitchen and crowded them.

  Another little girl, around the age of six or seven, waved at Charlotte. “Are you Uncle Jake’s girllllfriend?”

  Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to lie out loud, especially to a child, so she smiled and changed the subject. “What’s your name?”

  “Danica.” The little girl rocked on her heels, her hands clasped behind her back. “Everybody calls me Dani ’cept Uncle Jake.” She grinned, her missing front teeth on full display. “Uncle Jake says beautiful girls shouldn’t be called by a boy’s name.”

  Charlotte leaned down to whisper. “My name’s Charlotte, but my family calls me Charlie.”

  “I bet Uncle Jake doesn’t call you Charlie.”

  She mentally reviewed the last few weeks: lots of angels and a few Charlottes, but never Charlie.

  Huh. That’s weird. “No, he hasn’t.”

  “That’s cause you’re beautiful, too!” She crooked her finger with chipped sparkly pink polish. “I like you,” she whispered.

  “I like you, too,” Charlotte whispered back. Little Danica just replaced Theresa as her favorite family member. She’s good for my ego.

  “Why don’t you give Uncle Jake a hug?” Jake interrupted their conversation.

  “Dinner’s ready. Everyone grab a bowl and go to the formal dining room,” Theresa yelled over the chattering family.

  “Guests first.” Offering his arm, Gerald guided Charlotte to the front of the forming line. “Besides, once you get settled, you can finally tell us who won.”

  Her stomach dropped. “Yes. Umm, I’d be happy to.”

  She silently freaked at the spread. Between the sweet tea, cornbread, gumbo, and chocolate cake, her diet was toast. Not to mention my blood sugar level.

  “It’s all right.” Jake wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “Just watch your portion size, and let’s call this a cheat meal.”

  She sighed and leaned against him. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  Stepping back, he grabbed a bowl and scooped up a nice portion of gumbo and then a piece of cornbread before handing the bowl to her. “I dunno. I guess I’m just attuned to you.”

  She had fallen in love with Jake’s family. A dozen butterflies fluttered in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, she was falling a little in love with Jake, too.

  • • •

  Just as Jake expected, Charlotte had everyone—from his brothers and their wives to his parents and Grandma Etta, to the two sets of aunts and uncles that had stopped by to visit—wrapped around her pretty finger.

  Even his youngest nephew Kyrie, who rarely went to anyone outside of the family, was mesmerized. The toddler, now seated on Charlotte’s lap, even tried to hit him with his toy truck when Jake leaned in to hug Charlotte.

  He loved spending time with his family, but for once, he wanted to hole up somewhere quiet, snuggle on the couch with his girlfriend, and watch Netflix. Or “Netflix and chill,” as his mentee would say. Not that he and Charlotte were chilling—a.k.a. hooking up. But he’d settle for a kiss, or two, or two hundred from her.

  “All right, fam. Charlotte and I need to turn in. It’s been a long day.”

  “What?” his Uncle Gus shouted. “The flight from New York is only a few hours.”

  “More like four and half hours, Uncle Gus, but who’s counting.”

  “The night is still young. You’re young, and so is your lady.” Uncle Gus patted his back pocket and pulled out an unopened deck of cards. “Besides, I need to whip your behind in a few rounds of spades.”

  His mom clapped her hands. “Sounds good. The young folks versus the wise folks.”

  They really are trying to run my girlfriend—I mean Charlotte—off.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ma.”

  “Why not?” She cocked her hips and swung her head in Charlotte’s direction. “Charlie baby, don’t you want to play spades with us? You aren’t tired, are you?” Her voice and smile were both sweet, but the woman was a card shark. No matter how much she liked you, she didn’t mind beating the brakes off someone in a game of spades. Even Grandma Etta and his dad were afraid.

  “No, no. I’m not tired. I’d love to play.”

  Jake shook his head. “Angel, you don’t know what you’re getting into. Last time we all played, Dad slept on the couch, and Uncle Gus threatened to cut Uncle Fred.” He pointed to one of his brothers. “D’Mario was written out of Grandma Etta’s will.”

  “Oh, hush now, JR. I called the lawyer and wrote ’im back in. You’re gonna make Charlotte think we’re crazy.”

  “Yeah, hush, JR,” his mother parroted. “Charlie, we aren’t crazy, just passionate.”

  Charlotte’s eyes were wide as she looked around the room, and she clutched Kyrie tighter in her arms. “I, uh, it’s fine. We can play
as long as everyone tosses their switchblades into the middle of the room.”

  Uncle Gus threw back his head, slapped his thigh, and laughed. “I like this one. And it wasn’t a switchblade, it was a butter knife.” He pointed his stout finger to Jake’s dad. “JR always did have a wild imagination.”

  Sure I did. “Well, butter knife or not,” he turned and pointed to everyone in the room, “do not scare off my girl, or you’ll have to answer to me.”

  “Fine, fine. Don’t get your jockstrap in a twist,” Grandma Etta yelled from across the room.

  • • •

  To Jake’s knowledge, there were two times when Charlotte took off the halo: One, when she danced, and two, when she played spades. The woman was kicking ass and taking names. And here I thought I was protecting her.

  During the second game, Charlotte had dropped him and partnered with his mom. He wasn’t the best spades player. As a child, he’d prefer trading Pokémon cards with his friends rather than play with his rowdy family.

  When he’d feigned outrage, she shrugged and said, “Sorry, but your mom has the Kobe Bryant killer instinct.”

  He was surprised at his mother, too. She only ever partnered with Dad or Grandma Etta.

  Charlotte fanned out the cards in her hand, threw him a sexy smirk, and then slapped a card on the table.

  Jumping from her seat, his mother screamed. “Ha! We set you. Five-time champs! Charlie is my new spades partner.”

  “Now wait a minute, baby,” his dad pouted from the couch.

  “Only when she’s in town.” His mom batted her lashes. “You know I love you, Gerald, but she’s the best.”

  Uncle Gus stood and gave Charlotte a hug. “You have my respect, Charlie. I thought you were going to be as bad as your boyfriend.”

  “I have other talents,” Jake replied, used to his family’s ribbing.

  “We’ve got to get the kids to bed.” His brother Rich stood as well. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow at the cookout.”

  “Cookout?”

  “Yeah. Ma didn’t tell you?”

  Jake shook his head as he watched his mom do a victory dance around the room. “No, she didn’t. Let me guess . . . she invited everyone and their mamas.”

  “Yup. She’s told everyone at church and the neighbors that you finally settled down with a nice girl.”

  Jake shuddered, imagining the things his mother had said to her church friends. They probably high-fived each other for their prayers finally being answered. He gave his brother a hug. “Thanks for the heads-up. Let me kiss my nieces and nephews goodbye, and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seven

  Guests trickled in for the cookout. As Jake had predicted, everyone from his Little League coach to the pastor of their church was here. Church folk being one-half of the guests did not stop his childhood friend Shawn from regaling Charlotte with stories from their youth.

  “So there Jake was, naked as the day he was born, crawling out of his girlfriend’s bedroom window. Located on the second floor, mind you.”

  Charlotte giggled into her cup of his father’s sweet tea. She’d finally confessed to him earlier that his dad’s family recipe was her favorite, although he’d advised her that, if asked, to say Grandma Etta’s tea was the best. Dad would get over the contest. Grandma Etta would not. His grandma still held a grudge with her second cousin when she said Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You” was better than the Whitney Houston remake.

  Charlotte took another sip. “Wait. How did you see Jake shimmying down from the bedroom window?”

  Jake shook his head. “More like climbing out the window. Like 007.”

  “Yeah, right. Let me tell you the true story, Charlotte.” Shawn took a bite of his shrimp and then said, “I was outside in the car, parked on the curb with his girl’s cousin, who was visiting from out of town. We wanted some privacy.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Nodding, Charlotte leaned into his friend and whispered, “I can only imagine two horny teenage boys trying to get laid.”

  “So anyway, where was I?” Shawn asked.

  Charlotte hugged her torso and smiled dreamily. “Jacob . . . butt-naked . . . crawling out of a window.”

  She seems to be enjoying the thought of me naked. Jake winked, and she dropped her head-in-the-clouds expression and replaced it with a hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar one.

  Shawn snapped his fingers. “Right. So, me and the girl’s cousin were having a reeeal good time. That is until we were interrupted by a bunch of yelling I couldn’t make out at first. But what I did hear was ‘I’m gonna shoot your . . . ’” Looking around, he hesitated and whispered the rest. “‘You-know-what off.’ Next thing I know, Jake sprinted toward the car screaming like a little girl and yelled, ‘Go, go, go!’ He ordered her cousin to get out and yelled at me to drive.”

  Shawn and Charlotte were clutching their stomachs and laughing.

  Jake cleared his throat, which did nothing to interrupt their cackling. “I’m sure my girlfriend doesn’t want to hear about my youthful escapades.” And what happened to the bro code? Mildly annoyed, Jake tilted his head and gave Shawn what he hoped conveyed, “Shut the hell up!”

  His friend’s eyes stretched, and he lifted his hands in the air. “Ah, man. Sorry about that. My bad.” Turning to Charlotte, he gave her a hug. “I hope I didn’t say anything to make you uncomfortable.”

  He’s still hugging her. Something foreign and ugly tugged at Jake’s insides. His friend needed to take a step back—waaaaay back—from Charlotte.

  “Oh, no!” She tilted her head up to his six-foot-five friend. “Noooo. Not at all. In fact, please feel free to share more stories about Jacob.” She threw a grin in Jake’s direction. “And here I thought you were a sweet and innocent boy who traded Pokémon cards.”

  “He did that, too.” Shawn rubbed her shoulder. “Then he discovered boobs.”

  Charlotte broke into another fit of laughter.

  Between the shoulder rub and boobs comment, Jake saw red. Despite his inner turmoil, he calmly moved Charlotte away from his devilish friend by tucking her into his side. “Let’s grab something to drink. I’m thirsty.”

  She gave him a dazzling smile. “Okay, sweetheart. I wouldn’t mind a glass of water.” His heart stumbled at the endearment. He usually wasn’t a guy who liked it when women called him pet names. It reeked of familiarity, and he was all for the one-night, no-more-than-a-one-week fling. But when Charlotte whispered sweetheart, it made him want to stand on top of a mountain, beat his chest, and maybe flip a few birds in his cocky-ass friend’s direction.

  Jake bent over and lightly kissed her temple. “Later, Shawn,” he said without turning around.

  Walking a few feet away, he finally relaxed. “We probably need to break away soon and go visit your folks.”

  Her bright smile immediately disappeared. “Wouldn’t it be rude if we left the event that’s celebrating you?”

  “Nah.” He scanned the crowd, taking in the picnic tables and platters upon platters of food. “I haven’t seen my mom since it started. Trust me when I tell you I won’t be missed. Now . . . they may miss you.” Guiding her to the orange cooler, he filled a cup with water. “But you already met my mother’s prayer circle. They’re the ones who prayed every Wednesday after Bible study that I would find a good, God-fearing girl.”

  He took a sip.

  “I thought you were joking when you first told me that, but they really were concerned about you.”

  “Yeah, and every time I come down to visit my folks, my mom tries to get me to join the prayer circle. I told them to pray for the Yankees to win the World Series, not for a woman they deem appropriate.”

  Her head drooped, and she stared at the grass.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes fluttered to his. The confusion and confliction swirling in those brown depths pierced his chest. “They think I’m some . . . some sweet girl you fell in love with, but that’s far from the truth,�
�� she whispered. “And what’s worse, I’m a liar.” She waved a hand between them. “We’re liars. God didn’t answer their prayers.”

  Jake lifted her trembling hand and guided her to the side of the house for privacy. “Hey now.” He tipped her chin so her eyes focused on his. “You aren’t a liar. You’re a good person who’s doing me a favor. You didn’t ask for money like most people do. Hell, I had to all but force you to accept help for personal training. And unlike the women I’ve been with in the past, you don’t use or abuse my fame. You see me, the person, not the cash cow, the world-famous pitcher, the millionaire player. I like that . . . no, I love that about you, Charlotte.” He moved his hands to cup her face. “No matter what happens, we’ve found something special . . . friendship. I’d like to think that we’ll remain close after this, right?”

  “I . . . sure. We can be friends . . . I guess.” She didn’t seem to like the idea.

  Fire burned through his stomach. This entire time he’d assumed that she’d enjoyed his company. Maybe she was just being polite. “You don’t want us to stay in touch?”

  “I . . . of course, I do, Jacob, but it doesn’t seem feasible.”

  “And why the hell not?”

  She nibbled her bottom lip. “Maybe, if you were just an ordinary man, we could be friends. But the media hounds you. And when you start dating your models again, the media hounds are going to wonder why I’m still hanging around. Then I’ll seem like a pathetic loser who isn’t over you. Which isn’t true of course because we aren’t together and we don’t like each other like that,” she rambled on.

  Stepping back, he ran his fingers over his close-cut hair. “I don’t give a damn what the media thinks.”

  “And the women?”

  “They’ll adjust. We’re friends. They’ll just have to accept that.”

  Charlotte wrapped her arms around her torso. “Maybe so, but to them, we’ll technically be exes. No one wants her boyfriend to hang out with an ex-girlfriend.”

  “I’m telling you, they’ll be fine. If they don’t understand or accept our friendship, then they can leave.”

  “All right then . . . what about me?”

  Damn, she’s argumentative today. “What about you?”