Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕
- Author: S. J. Evans
Book online «Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕». Author S. J. Evans
Her mind cluttered with possibilities of what the surprise could be, and, taking a deep, cleansing breath, she turned towards him, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and said, “You better hope it’s worth the wait. ‘Cause if it’s not, and I’m not pleased, you’ll owe me big time.”
“Trust me,” he countered around a grin, “I know.”
“Good.” A teasing smile crawled up her lips. “As long as we’re on the same page.”
Chuckling, he kissed the top of her head, and, when she curled into him, wrapped his arms securely around her. Skye appreciated the display of affection, and couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of happiness that bubbled up inside of her because of it. She’d always been a sucker for even the simplest displays of love and affection; it always meant something to her, never to be taken for granted (especially after all the pain she’d gone through in her relatively short life).
“Dinner is ready! Come to the table, please.”
At the sound of Leah’s honey-sweet voice, Skye startled, squirming in Jules’s hold. Her heart crashed against her rib cage for a moment in a state of panic, before she managed to pull herself together again. When she realized what she’d just done, and how silly the act had truly been, she lost herself in a parade of giggling, only to be interrupted by Jules’s hand covering her mouth.
“Hey, Trouble, pull it together, would ya? We’ve got somewhere to be.” Warm breath tickled the side of her face as his own laughter echoed in her ears, the melody deep and enticing. “And what if they’re listening? You’re making a fool of yourself.”
She slapped his hand away, scowling. “Am not!” she squealed, and scrambled out of his arms, leaping to her feet. “I’m just expressing myself. It’s perfectly natural and understandable.” As she crossed her arms, she tried to keep her expression neutral, merely weighing more on the irritated side. But with one look at Jules’s beaming face, she nearly lost it. His cheeky grin was only working against her.
“Are you sure about that?” he teased, raising an inquiring brow. “’Cause you looked at least a little
ridiculous.”
“Jules!” she snapped, slightly exasperated. Despite the fact that she didn’t want to give in to his charming appearance again, she could feel a small, uneasy smile spreading across her lips, and she hated herself for it. “How can you say tha—?”
“I’m kidding!” he announced around another parade of laughter, cutting her off. “You’re perfect.” In a flash he was standing in front of her, cupping her face in his hands, and pressing their foreheads together. “Trouble, if I was being completely honest with you, I’d say that you’re the best kind of ridiculous there is. And you never have to worry about making a fool of yourself—I’ll always be here to back you up.”
Clutching his shirt in her small, trembling hands, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his, softly, tenderly. “Jules,” she breathed, overwhelmed with a sudden wave of warm, dizzying sensations. “Thank you.” Her voice echoed a mere whisper.
After a few kisses, Jules was the first one to pull away. “We should go. Come on,” he said gently, and pulled one of her hands in his, entwining their fingers together. “We wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Of course not,” she mumbled, wrapping her arm around his chest and nuzzling her face into his side. “Especially since there’s some kind of surprise waiting for me, too, correct?” A small smile graced the corners of her lips.
“Correct.”
After a moment of trusting him to lead her in the right direction, she lifted her head up, focusing her attention away from him—at least for a little while.
When they rounded the corner and entered the dining area, the first thing Skye noticed was the room’s bright, warm glow, illuminated from the golden candles that were selectively placed around the room, some on the table top, others on the shelves that haphazardly occupied the walls, symbolic as Joe’s handiwork.
With a smile creeping up the corners of her lips, she thought of Joe’s own special surprise
for Leah (a surprise she’d been fortunate enough to be included in), and felt a pang of excitement stir inside her as she recalled the memory of her and Joe’s conversation over breakfast earlier that morning.
“Are you sure you’d be okay with this?” Joe, having just taken a sip of coffee from one of Skye’s least favorite mugs, the one with splotches of an ugly, puke-green color painted on it, asked Skye with a smile. After a moment’s hesitation on her part, his brows furrowed together, as if he thought he’d said the wrong thing, and he added, “You can say no, Skye. I mean, even though I really do love your mother, even more than I ever did before, and I’d love to make this kind of commitment to her, I also understand if you’d prefer that I wait. At least for a little while, until you’re ready, too.”
With her gaze practically burning a hole into the smooth, flat surface of the countertop, Skye opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again, pondering her words over. She had two options: she could either say yes to Joe, granting him permission to possibly enter her and Leah’s life in a very intimate way, or she could say no, turning down his offer to be the father she’d always wanted and the husband Leah had always deserved, if only for a little while.
And recalling all of the good Joe had done so far in her life, and all of the good he’d done in Leah’s life, including the simple act of bringing a smile to her face with each new day, she made a decision. “My answer is yes. Yes, I’m okay with this.”
“You sure?”
Grinning, she added, “Positive.”
Back in the present, Skye watched as Leah, who’d been sitting next to Joe at the head of the table, shot up when she noticed her and Jules standing in the archway. “Oh good,” she exclaimed with a bright smile on her face, clapping her hands together, “you’re both here. Come, sit.”
Pulling Jules’s along with her, Skye made her way over to the seats awaiting them, her socked feet padding along the warm, wooden floorboards beneath her. “You sure went to a whole lot of trouble for one dinner, Mom,” she said when she was seated, and scooted her chair forward. “It does look incredible, though.”
Leah’s cheeks instantly flushed a light pink, and, with her gaze darting back and forth between Joe and Skye while her fingers nervously fumbled with the smooth hem of her black, silky top, she slowly returned to her seat. “Actually,” she started quietly, sheepishly, “Joe put all of this together, including the meal. He said that because it was a special occasion he wanted me to relax and let him do all of the work. So, even though I wish I could take credit for this incredible dining experience, it was all him.”
Skye’s heart warmed at the sight of Leah so happy, so lost in her love and admiration for Joe that she was actually blushing
(something Skye had rarely seen her mother do), and so different
from the Leah she’d seen just months ago. Not once had she really thought it would come to this—Leah with Joe, and Skye with Jules—both of the duos so madly in love that they did things they’d never imagine themselves doing. But even so, she couldn’t have been happier.
Joe, who’d been sitting in his seat silently, watching Leah, now gathered her hands in his and kissed them, not once breaking eye contact. “You were a very lovely observer, though, my dear.”
To Skye’s surprise, Leah giggled at this (another thing she was rarely caught doing), and Skye had to cover up her own form of laughter with a quiet, coughing sound. Sneaking a glance at Jules, she caught the amused look on his face, also, and casually whispered to him, “Behave yourself. This is a big night for them.”
Grinning, he squeezed her hand and leaned a bit closer. “I always behave,” he cooed in her ear, so softly Skye was sure she was the only one who heard it, considering the fact that Leah and Joe were lost in a conversation, seemingly unaware of anything that was going on around them. “And by big
, do you mean that Joe’s planning on proposing?”
Taken aback from the heat in Jules’s voice, she instinctively pulled away from him a little, turning to study his face for an explanation. “How’d you—?”
“It’s pretty obvious, Skye,” he said quietly, cutting her off. “Joe’s practically radiant.”
Ignoring his last comment, she hissed, “Well, hush. Leah’s not supposed to figure it out.”
“All right, Skye,” he said around a cheeky grin, leaning back in his chair, “whatever you say.
“So, Joe,” Skye said loudly, in an attempt to pull Joe out of his love-trance, “you really did all of this?”
He turned to look at her, a small, humble smile gracing his face. “Yes,” he said quietly, and shifted his gaze towards Leah again, only for a moment, before he returned his gaze towards Skye, “I did. But I had a little help with the preparations.”
Vaguely, almost as if she had imagined it completely, Skye thought she saw him wink at her, and she took that as a sign that he was hinting at her acceptance to his proposal and the idea that she could share the special event with him, with them. “Well,” she said sweetly, picking up the basket of bread to the right of her and placing a butter roll on her plate, before passing it to Jules, “it all looks incredible.”
“So, what’s the special occasion?”
Joe, who’d been about to take a sip of his water, the glass poised at his lips, stumbled to catch his bearings at Jules’s inquiry, eyes widening a bit as he set his glass down with a careful (yet clattering) thump. “Excuse me?”
Kicking Jules from underneath the table, Skye shot him a quick warning glare, telling him not to go too far with whatever wacky plan he had, and bit on her lip to keep herself from saying something aloud. She didn’t want the surprise to be ruined, much less the night. And even though Joe was quick on his feet at coming up with good cover ups—she knew this well because of all the times she’d came home later than normal when he and Leah had been together years ago, and he’d made an easy
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