Page 86 of About that Fling
Beth grinned and shoved the disc into the player, while Jenna leaned back against Adam’s arm, feeling warm and safe and stupidly happy. “You like the wine?” she asked.
“I do,” he murmured. “It’s different from what you’ve been introducing me to lately—all the Oregon Pinots?”
Jenna nodded, surprised he noticed. “This cab is really juicy—a little higher in tannins. Pinot tends to be a little closer to medium bodied, and the earthy ones are my favorite. The one we had with dinner is a great example.”
“Juicy versus earthy,” he repeated, taking another thoughtful sip of the cab. “Yeah, I think I see what you mean.”
“You sure you don’t want your own glass?”
“Nope, I don’t want the wine.” He planted a kiss along her hairline as he handed the glass back to her. “I just wanted a chance to put my lips someplace yours had been.”
“In that case,” she whispered, “you should work on your contortionist skills.”
He laughed and kissed her forehead this time, pulling her tighter against him so she could feel the ridges of his abs against the base of her ribcage. Funny how aware she was of every spot where their bodies touched, all the little ways they connected. She felt like she belonged here. Like they’d always been together, connected by breath and bone and skin.
Being here with him like this, she felt like a part of his life. Like this could be them a few months from now, a regular couple without all the baggage.
“This should be a good one,” Beth said, sitting back on her heels and hitting a button on the DVD player. “It’s from that family reunion six or seven years ago. Remember that?”
“Yeah,” Adam said, nuzzling Jenna’s hair. “Nana wore a red dress that Gramps said made her look like a tart.”
“He meant it as a compliment, I’m sure.” Jenna watched the video flicker to life on the screen and a scattering of relatives appeared, joking and laughing as they juggled paper plates and bottles of beer.
“There’s Uncle Martin,” he said, nodding toward the screen. “Ten bucks says he’s already wasted.”
“No bet,” Beth said, getting to her feet. “He was wasted before he got there. Speaking of which, I’m going to grab the wine bottle so we don’t have to get up again. You sure you don’t want your own glass, Adam?”
“I’m good,” Adam said, pulling Jenna closer.
She snuggled against him and took a slow sip of her wine as Beth moved toward the kitchen. Jenna kept her eyes fixed on the screen, watching Adam’s relatives smiling and singing and tossing a Frisbee. “Who’s the woman in the white shorts?”
“That’s my cousin, Ginny. She’s a brain surgeon out in Vermont. We don’t see her much. That guy over there in the Hawaiian shirt is my dad. That was just before he and mom joined the Peace Corps.”
“You must miss them a lot.”
“I do, but I know they love what they’re doing. They’re happy.”
Jenna nodded, transfixed by the sight of Adam’s dad throwing his head back and laughing the same way Adam did sometimes. The scene swiveled left, landing on a woman in a brown peasant skirt who waved at the camera, then stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes. She had the same eyes as Adam and Beth, the deep speckled green Jenna had come to know so well. She nestled deeper against his chest, savoring the feel of his fingers stroking her hair.
The camera swung right, landing on a couple locked in a passionate embrace beneath an oak tree. The man dipped his hand into the curve of the woman’s back, pulling her tight against his body just like Adam did when he kissed.
Jenna blinked. It was Adam. And the woman arching her body against his was Mia, her long red hair trailing down her back as she twined her fingers around his neck, her wedding ring glinting in the sun.
“Oh,” Jenna breathed, staring at the screen.
Behind her, Adam tensed. The hand that had been stroking her leg stopped in mid-caress, his fingers frozen on her knee. “Shit. Hey, Shel? Where’s the remote?”
“What? Oh.” Beth scrambled from the edge of the kitchen, dropping to her knees in front of the television. She fished around on the floor, fumbling with a silver controller.
“Dammit, wrong one.”
Jenna couldn’t look away. She wanted to—God, she wanted to—but something pulled her eyes to the screen like magnets to steel. She couldn’t blink. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was stare at the young couple kissing, so passionate, so young, so in love.
“So disgusting,” Beth said, dropping the silver remote and picking up a black one. She aimed it at the television and hit a button. The image lurched into fast-forward, and Jenna watched the blurry figures moving at warp speed as Mia realized they were being filmed and turned laughing toward the camera, waving them away. The image shifted to another scene, a set of school-aged kids chasing each other with squirt guns. Beth took her hand off the button and the image slowed to normal speed.
“Sorry about that,” Beth said, giving Jenna a sympathetic look. “That’s the kind of shit you can’t unsee, huh?”
“It’s fine,” Jenna said, blinking at last.
