Page 20 of Not Just a Trick Play

“Whatever. I’m not going into your sex dungeon.”

“It’s just Halloween prep,” Jake's eyes dance with mirth.

I cast him a dubious glance. “So, not another den of depravity?”

“Nah. We only do whips and chains for Valentine’s Day and anniversaries.”

I’m not entirely sure he’s kidding.

He lets out a deep groan of exasperation. “I promise I’m not a porn star.”

I side eye him again.

“Honey? Did I hear Yvonne?” A voice calls right as an older woman enters through a swing door on the other side of the room, enticing smells following in her wake. She pauses at the sight of me.

“Yep, she’s somewhere around,” Jake says. He leads me to her. “Meet my mother, Jeanine Cunningham. Mom, this is Amelia Stevens.”

This man came out ofher? She’s tiny, the blue jumper she has on goes to her knees. Although she appears to be in her fifties, those green eyes hold a spark just as sharp as Yvonne’s and Jake’s.

Even in my semi-shocked state, I manage a robotic “Lovely to meet you.” Because Gran didn’t raise a heathen.

Jeanine smiles warmly. “Likewise, Amelia. Please, have a seat.” She nods at the large living set.

The only bit not overrun with Halloween decorations is a small section of a loveseat beside another skeleton, this one in a police hat. I lower myself into the spot while she takes the armchair opposite after lifting its previous occupant, a creepy-looking porcelain-faced doll with wild hair, then perching it on her lap.

A second later, Jake wedges himself between me and the boney officer. His thigh presses against mine as he leans back, and even through the denim of his jeans, a spark of electricity comes through. I cross my legs, suddenly warmer than the temperature warrants, barely resisting the urge to squirm.

The last time we were this close, I was hovering over his face. So, this is an improvement, right? I steal a glance at him, catching a sly grin pulling at his lips, as if he's able to tell what’s going through my mind.

I exhale, trying to rid myself of those pesky pheromones, then survey the room. Despite the abundance of decorations, the overall effect is tasteful. The furnishings are clearly of the highest quality, with plush pillows and throws adding vibrant pops of color. The opposite end of the space is dominated by an elongated dining table for twelve. A highchair between the head and adjacent seats makes a thirteenth spot. “You have a lovely home.”

Jeanine beams at Jake. “Thank you. I’ve been lucky.” Her gaze flits between him and me. “How do you know each other?”

He blinks innocently, a slight smirk playing at his mouth.

“Umm…” How does one tell a mother that she met her son when he was handcuffed to a bed in the politest way? Not that it’s my place. I know too well the sting of parental disappointment. Before I can decide, Jake responds, “She’s here with Yvonne.”

Yvonne enters the living room. “I ran into Amelia at the park. She’s visiting from the UK.” She drops a kiss on her mum’s head then shoves a plastic bin off an ottoman and sinks onto it. The resemblance between mother and daughter is uncanny.

“London?” Jeanine smiles at me.

“Nothing so glamorous. Tiny little town called Fordwich.”

“I see. What do you think of New York so far?”

“It’s been rather…eventful. Plenty of…character.” I cast Jake another sidelong glance, only to find his lips twitching again.

Her eyes spark with interest as she leans in. “Oooh…that sounds juicy…”

Jake cuts her off. “This is New York. Everyone’s a little odd. It’s a thing here. Broadway shows, Michelin Starred restaurants, celebrity sightings, crazy people. They aren’t without their charms.” He bats his lashes at me. He waggles his brows and gestures at himself.

I stifle a laugh, instead dryly respond, “Until you’re interacting with one at close range.”

“Have you done any touristy things yet?” Jeanine jumps in, and I’m glad to turn my attention toward her.

“A couple, but I hope to do more sightseeing tomorrow. I’ve heard the museums here are incredible.”

“What about Broadway? Though you have West End in England—I’m not sure how different it is…” she muses.

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