Page 109 of Loaded

He sighs and pivots, heading for her door.

His time estimate is about right, though. About ten minutes later, they both come out, and her hair. . .It falls around her shoulders like a tumultuous waterfall of shining deep brown curls. Something in it sparkles from several places, but I can’t tell what. Her dress is the perfect color for her skin and eyes, a golden russet that makes her look both tan and glowing at the same time. Her eyes pop—probably thanks in some part to her makeup—in contrast to the fabric color as well.

“Oh, no,” I say.

“What?” She freezes.

Jake’s eyes widen and he shakes his head behind her.

“I’m not sure you can go like that.” I exhale. “The bride won’t let you in if you upstage her. Itissupposed to be her day.”

Bea rolls her eyes and bites her lip.

It’s absolutely adorable.

“You two are gross,” Jake says. “I’m taking my car.”

“You could have left half an hour ago and spared me the misery.” Bea’s shaking her head. “Why didn’t you? You’re so annoying.”

“I was trying to keep Easter here alive.” He glares. “She’d eat you alive when she’s stressed about getting ready, little boy. Learning to survive this part takes some training.”

She shoves him.

It’s actually pretty nice of him to drive himself. Clearly he could insist on driving, and that would leave me crammed into the back of his Porsche. No thanks.

Or if Bea drove, she’d have had to pick one of us for the front seat, and that might have been awkward too. I expected him to be more of a problem, actually, but he seems to be better than I anticipated. Honestly, at the beginning, right after I met Bea, I kind of thought he liked her.

I was actually almost positive.

Clearly I’m not always right, and this time, it’s a relief.

Jake grabs his keys and disappears.

“You ready?”

“Yeah,” Bea says. “I just need to grab my gift.”

“How are you going to grab a song?” I look around to see if maybe there’s a CD or something sitting around. Though who listens to CDs anymore, I’m not sure.

Her cheeks turn pink.

“What?” Did I say something stupid?

“I didn’t really have time,” she says. “So instead, I got them a portrait of their family.”

“Oh.” I nod. “That still sounds really cool.”

She picks up a two by three foot gift that was leaning against the side wall in the kitchen. I should have noticed it. My powers of observation are clearly offline after my long week. “The artist even added their names with this really pretty calligraphy under each of them.”

“I’m sure they’ll love it,” I say.

She shrugs. “It’s hard to shop for rich people.” She bumps me with her hip as she passes. “I’m not looking forward to your birthday.” Then she frowns. “When is it, anyway?”

“You lucked out. It was the week before I came into your restaurant.”

Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“When’s yours?”

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