She grins even wider, and I laugh as she grabs Rory by the arm and pulls him onto the dance floor to dance with her.
Momma Shaw, Stanton’s mother, regards me with an appraising eye. “You know, Jake, I’ve seen you smile more in the last thirty minutes than you have the entire time I’ve known you.”
“Well, I have seven pretty amazing reasons to smile now.”
She pats my arm as I walk over to Chelsea. On the way, I pass Brent talking to Stanton’s sister Mary—channeling Pee-wee Herman.
“You don’t want to get involved with a guy like me, Mary. I’m a loner, a rebel . . .”
Chelsea’s arms wrap around my neck and we sway on the dance floor to some slow song.
“Guess what?” she asks.
I brush my nose against hers. “What?”
“I was just talking to your mother. She and Owen offered to take the kids back to the house tonight and stay over. Soooo . . . I booked a room here, for you and me.”
“Fuck, you’re brilliant,” I murmur. “Have I ever told you how much I love your mind?”
“I thought you loved my body,” she says teasingly, pressing it against me up-close and personal.
“Oh, I do, believe me. I’ll give you a thorough demonstration of how much I love it tonight—and tomorrow.”
“And we’re sleeping in tomorrow—Mr. Five A.M.,” she says insistently.
I smirk. “Well, we’ll be in bed . . . but there won’t be much sleeping going on.”
Chelsea rests her head against my chest. “Sounds perfect.”
It does, doesn’t it?
I don’t mean to brag, but like everything else in my life these days, it sounds perfect because . . . it really. Fucking. Is.