Page 89 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
"What?" I ask.
He doesn't answer—just lets the silence hang.
Then, out of nowhere, he says softly, "Jenna."
"Yeah?"
Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror, his gaze intense, almost shimmering.
"Just what am I going to do with you?"
My heart catches in my throat.
I have no idea how to answer. I don't even know what he means by it.
All I know is that something's happening between us—something neither of us planned, something we can't seem to stop.
And we're starting to like each other far more than we should.
CHAPTER 26
Grayson
The time spent with Jenna's parents went remarkably well—though frankly, there's no reason it shouldn't have. My situation is somewhat different, of course, since—in the eyes of my parents at least—I'm the "wealthy bachelor with everything to lose," and she's the "insolent young tart who's obviously on the make." That attitude of theirs isn't endearing to Jenna, nor is it conducive to a quiet, peaceful family dinner.
The best I can say about our first evening together is that it goes about as well as I expected.
My father is quiet and watchful.
My mother is surly and overly critical.
My sister—who wasn't actually invited but showed up anyway because she loves drama—makes no effort to hide her amusement. She's clearly enjoying the show.
To Stephanie's credit, she genuinely seems to like Jenna. She laughs at her stories, asks thoughtful questions that allow her to shine in front of my parents, and occasionally jumps in to support her when good old Mom tries to twist Jenna's words into something unflattering. To be fair, Jenna rarely needs rescuing.
Turns out she's a natural at charming people. It seems to come to her as easily as breathing.
Almost immediately upon our arrival, she presents my mother with a bracelet she bought as a gift. Mom accepts it with a snobbish, "Oh, how quaint. Is it real gold?"
"It is," Jenna replies with a polite smile. "I do hope you like it. It's so difficult choosing something for someone like you who has such discerning taste—and of course you already have so much. I didn't know you well enough to guess your exact preferences, and your son was no help at all—you know what men are like, Mrs. Wolfe; they're hopeless at that sort of thing. Still, I didn't want to show up empty-handed. I figured a bracelet was better than a bottle of wine, and it might at least be one thing you don't already have, since it's rare—vintage Brunelli."
My mom's newly shaped eyebrow arches. "How do you know I like vintage Brunelli? Did Grayson tell you?"
Jenna snorts. "Of course not. Grayson couldn't even tell me what color your eyes were. I noticed during our last meeting that most of your jewelry was vintage Brunelli. You were also wearing the limited-collection Isobel, which is practically impossible to find."
"They are," my mother sniffs proudly. "But Jean Paul is a dear friend of mine. That's the only way I was able to get my hands on it."
"Of course, and it was beautiful—as is this one." She gestures to the box. "The bracelet you're holding is another rare piece by him that never saw the light of day. It was originally a custom piece for an unnamed English royal who died before he could ever give it to her. Jean Paul kept it for a while, but eventually I got my hands on it."
"How?"
"Well, let's just say I planned his niece's wedding, and the event went off so swimmingly that she introduced me to him.We hit it off from there. I wouldn't call him a friend, exactly—I'm just a longtime admirer of his work—and he gave me this as a thank-you for mine."
"Oh, wow. Well then, I couldn't possibly take this," my mother says, her eyes crawling over the jewel with undisguised greed. "You must have worked hard for it."
"No, please. I insist. It doesn't suit my coloring anyway, and it's been sitting in the box this whole time. As much as I love it, I doubt I'll ever wear it, so I suppose it should go to you—as a thank-you for welcoming me into your family."
It's a bold statement, but my mother simply nods, distracted, her eyes still locked on the bracelet. My father's gaze shifts to Jenna, a mix of surprise, suspicion, and—just faintly—respect.
