Page 52 of Raging Fires

The date only lasted another thirty minutes or so before it was back to the Vespa to crawl their way to her house, but it was still in the running for the most excruciating date that she’d ever been on. And that was saying something after she got roped into the speed metal/speed date mash-up they'd done at the Blue last year.

But at least Kelli had made it home without any axe wounds and Tyler didn’t appear to be ramping up to try an end of the night kiss. It was all almost over. Maybe she would try Bumble again—now she could be confident in the knowledge that no date in the future could possibly be this bad. And at least this one couldn't get any worse at this late stage.

Then Jake stepped out on the porch. Of course. Here he was to prove her wrong.

He was shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Feet bare. Kelli’s eyes involuntarily swept down from his broad shoulders to his washboard abs, following the line of hair down to the waistband of his sweats. He looked like an ad for Abercrombie and Fitch… or sex.

Heat flared low in her abdomen. She wanted so much to slide her fingers across the wide display of flesh that it was a physical ache. She could almost feel his skin under her fingertips as she drew them along the lines of his muscles. Kelli curled her fingers into a fist, just to make sure she didn’t do something stupid.

“Hey! I thought I heard you two out here. Come in and have a drink!” Jake bared his teeth in a wolfish grin and stepped back, waving them in like a maître d’.

Tyler looked like he'd rather chew off his own leg than walk into this trap. The heat in Kelli's body quickly turned to anger. What the hell was Jake doing? His flirting with Ashley and stupid digs about her being jealous were the only reason she’d even gone out with Tyler. It was Jake’s fault she'd suffered through stilted conversation that had exposed the depths of the already obvious age gap between her and Tyler—I mean, who didn't know who Elle Woods was—and now Jake wanted to crash their date like an overzealous mom?

Kelli slid her arm into Tyler's, plastering on a smile. “That sounds great.”

Jake’s grin grew even wider and scarier, if that was possible. The moment they walked through the door, Kelli's eyes flew to the fireplace. Well, not exactly. They flew to the space above it where a huge oil painting hung. A painting that had definitely not been there this morning. Kelli was not super observant before noon, but even she would've registered the ornate gold frame and the painted portrait of her and Jake preserved for all time in “Kents do it in Tents” T-shirts. On velvet.

“Good. God.” Kelli stopped short. Tyler’s jaw dropped.

“Do you like it?” Jake’s eyes took on a manic gleam. “I decided to have it commissioned after the wedding. The second wedding, I mean.”

“You two were married before?” Tyler's eyes got wide. “Like, for real married? Not just for the bar?”

“Yes, for real married.” Kelli's lips thinned as she stared Jake down. “An unfortunate experience I had hoped not to repeat.”

“Well, luckily for you, my Pops can only blackmail us after death once.” Jake kept his tone light. “Come in. Sit down. Want a soda? Coffee? Some wine to set the mood? Kells here has her own bedroom, you know. And I’ll be right out here.” He pointed at the bed off the living room. “In case you need a razor or something in the morning.”

Kelli breathed a sigh of relief. With the insane way Jake was acting she’d thought he was about to propose a threesome or something. But apparently even Jake had his limits of what he was willing to say to get back at her. For going on a date he’d suggested!

Tyler shook his head, his expression dazed. He was obviously still processing the information. Or maybe he was planning his escape from Kelli’s obviously deranged ex-and-current husband.

Jake inserted himself between her and Tyler, draping his arms over both their shoulders, and propelled them forward to the sofa. “Come on in. It’s still early. Sit down.” He all but pushed them onto the sofa, then took off to the kitchen.

Tyler turned toward Kelli and said hesitantly, “Maybe I should go.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Kelli agreed.

But as Tyler stood up, there was Jake again, thrusting a can of soda into Tyler’s hand. He handed Kelli a beer. “Here’s your Heineken.” He glanced over at Tyler. “That’s always been her favorite. Kell’s an old-fashioned girl. None of those trendy craft brews for you, right, Kelli?”

“Actually… I drink several different brands,” Kelli responded, glaring at Jake. “I have broadened my tastes.”

“There are a number of excellent small-batch—” Tyler began.

But Jake plowed ahead, “Sorry, Ty—I can call you Ty, right?—I decided against alcohol for you. Don’t want you crashing your Vespa on the way home. So here’s a Fanta. Remember how you used to love Fanta, Kell?”

“When I was eight,” Kelli shot back.

“Well, there was that one time you were drinking Fanta with vodka.”

“Oh, God, don’t remind me.” Kelli couldn’t keep from letting out a little laugh.

Jake plopped down on the sofa in between them and stretched his arms out across the back. He turned to Tyler. “I hope you weren’t drinking, what with Kelli being on your bike tonight.”

“I ummm...” Tyler looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Of a Mack truck.

Fortunately Jake didn’t need any answers to have a conversation. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here tonight to see you guys off. Good move, taking her out on the old bike. Nothing Kelli loves like the wind in her hair.”

Kelli shot him a sour look and set her unopened beer down on the coffee table.