“Who told you that?” she questions.
Jake shrugs, pretends to padlock his lips, and tosses the imaginary key over his shoulder.
“You booger. It was a nice surprise, though. Betsy Jo is always winnin’, and for once, I did. I screamed so loud, and everyone ’round me just groaned. Savin’ it for a rainy day.”
Hearing her speak makes me happy.
“You two really do look good together, ya know that?” she adds.
A blush hits my cheeks as I sneak a peek at Jake. We meet each other’s eyes and then turn back to her.
“Anyway,” Jake says, changing the subject. “Claire loves snow globes, and I was tellin’ her about your collection. Mind if I show her?”
“Go ahead, they’re in the guest room. Don’t mind all that junk on the bed in there. I was cleanin’ out my closet last week.”
Jake stands and holds out his hand, and I take it. His grandma watches as we leave the living room and walk down the hallway. As soon as we’re out of sight, he presses my back up against the wall and kisses me. I feel like I’m drowning in his touch, his mouth, his tongue, him entirely, and I want him to pull me under and take me away. His teeth graze against my cheek until he’s whispering in my ear. “I can never get enough of you.”
“Same,” I hiss, knowing we better stop before we get caught. Jake creates space between us and adjusts himself. I glance down, seeing how hard I’ve made him.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get enough of him. I’m not sure I want to.
When we walk into the spare bedroom, I’m stunned speechless by all the snow globes in the room. Shelves line the upper perimeter of the walls, and each globe is on display. There are small and large ones in various shapes, and they’re easy to admire from where I stand.
“My grandpa built these shelves so the grandkids couldn’t play with them,” Jake explains. “He’d always say, ‘You look with your eyes, not your hands.’”
I laugh. “He was right, though. Did one get broken?”
He nods. “Only took once. It wasn’t me, though. It was Wendy. When she was younger, she was clumsy. She was skipping with it in her hand to tell Mawmaw something, tripped, and it fell on the ground and shattered. The glass was thin. Water and fake snow were all over the floor—Mawmaw about shit a brick. I’ll never forget it. We all thought Wendy was gonna get a whoopin’.”
“What happened?”
“Grandma told her to stop cryin’ about it and warned us kids if we ever touched her snow globes again, she’d Hansel and Gretel us.”
My mouth falls open.
“I’m just kidding about that last part. You’re gullible, though.” He grabs my hand, pulling me toward him. “My mawmaw was right: we look good together.”
I blink up at him, tugging his bottom lip into my mouth and sucking it. “We do. I’ve never been with a man who still has inches on me when I wear high heels. Or who can carry me to bed.”
He leans in and whispers, “Or who enjoys your cute clit as much as I do.”
His hot breath on my neck and ears has my eyes fluttering closed. My breasts rise and fall, and I don’t know if it’s me or if it’s hot in the house. Every inch of me feels like it’s on fire, and if I’m not careful, he’ll turn me to ash.
“What are you doing to me?” I ask, hypnotized by his touch and words.
“Just returning the favor.” He hums and runs his fingers through my hair. “You drive me crazy, CeCe. Even when I’m with you, I need more.”
“I know,” I whisper. “What will we do?”
“I wish I had the right answer.” He presses his lips against mine, and the only thing that pulls us apart is the clearing of a throat.
We turn our heads to see his grandmother standing in the doorway. Thankfully, she doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t have to. Busted.
“Did Jake tell you they’re displayed in order of age?” She enters the room, moving past us and pointing at one corner. “Startin’ there are the oldest ones. My ma collected that one when she was a young woman. 1916, I believe.”
My eyebrows shoot upward. “Wow. That’s early.”
“You know they weren’t invented until the late 1800s. Paris Exposition, I believe, if I recall the story correctly,” she offers.