Page 47 of Second Time Around

Fourteen

Beck smiled as he pulled into the driveway of a classic red brick bungalow with white trim. He felt a burst of pride for everything Jenna had accomplished in the years since he’d left town. She’d become successful at work and was a homeowner to boot. Not everyone their age could say the same. At the same time, he felt a twinge of regret that she’d accomplished all this without him. If prom night had gone differently, they might have even lived in this house together…

He looked up and saw her peering at him from the doorway. Then she opened the door and stepped outside. “Are you just going to stand there all night?”

She looked beautiful as always, and tonight she was wearing form-fitting clothes instead of the loose ones she wore to work. He’d never known anyone who rocked a pair of jeans as well as she did.

“Need help?” she called.

“Nope. I’ve got it.” He took the trays of food out of the back seat and walked up to the door, which she held open for him.

“Go straight ahead five steps, turn left, and you’ll be in the kitchen,” she said.

He laughed as he could see the kitchen from the tiny foyer. The house was small yet neat and nicely decorated. He should have known she’d have an eye for interior design, just like she had an eye for hair.

He set the trays on the counter and peeled back the aluminum covering so she could look inside. To his delight, she leaned in close, and their shoulders rubbed. He also caught the scent of her perfume, which was more spicy than sweet. He imagined she had a variety of perfumes to match her moods. He wondered what that meant for tonight…

“Mmm. This looks fabulous,” she said.

“So do you.” Oops.

She immediately stepped back.

“It was just a compliment, Jen.”

She looked torn between saying something snarky or… “Thank you.”

He was shocked but tried not to show it. “You’re welcome.”

“And thanks for bringing the food. I would have just thrown some cheese and crackers on a plate and called it good.”

He laughed. His girl loved to eat but hated cooking. He’d stumbled on yet another thing about her that hadn’t changed, and he was oddly pleased.

“Isn’t this better, though?”

“So much better. Too bad I can’t pass it off as my own, but my friends would never believe me.”

He smiled. “Do you want to transfer these to a more decorative plate?”

“Sure.”

She turned to open a cupboard door, treating him to a view of her backside. Levi’s. She’d worn them when they were teens, but she filled them out even better now. When she reached up to get the plate, her top raised, and he saw a sliver of smooth skin and the sexy indents right above the waistband of her jeans.

“I can’t quite reach,” she said.

Naturally, she was wearing Converses, purple ones tonight, which were cute but didn’t make her taller.

“Let me,” he said, coming up behind her. He expected her to move aside, but when she didn’t, he reached above her head and pulled out the plate. His chest brushed her back, and he felt her warmth through her top.

“There’s another dish in the back we can use for the desserts,” she said, her voice sounding strained.

He set down the first plate and reached up again. She’d moved off to the side but was close enough that he could still smell her perfume. He pulled out a dish rimmed with blue flowers. “Is this it?”

“No. It’s further back.”

He reached in again and felt his own shirt ride up his back. “What does it look like?’

“Um…good. It looks really good…”