Chapter Two
“JENNA, YOU CANNOT go out with a guy you met in the middle of the road.” Bella stood in front of one of Jenna’s bedroom closets later that evening as Jenna sifted through outfits.
Her one-bedroom cottage didn’t have much space, but the space it did have was supremely organized. Jenna was so OCD that she organized her clothing by color, season, and length of the outfit. There were two small closets in the tight master bedroom, one on either side of the door. She’d hired Pete a few years earlier to lower the rods to accommodate her four-eleven stature and to build shelves above and below, leaving just enough room for shoes along the floor.
“What are you talking about? How do you want me to meet men? They don’t exactly line up outside my front door with résumés in hand.” Jenna held up a black sundress. “What do you think?”
“Too sexy. He’ll think you want to get down and dirty,” Amy said from her perch on the bed. “She does have a point, Bella.”
“Yeah, I know, but I think this is just Jenna rebelling.” Bella pulled a white sundress with puffy sleeves from the closet.
“No. No way. Who am I, Little Miss Innocent? Heck no. Rebelling against what, anyway?” Jenna snagged the dress from Bella’s hands and placed it back where it belonged—with the other short, white dresses.
“Rebelling against Pete not being interested.” Bella shook her head at a red dress Jenna pointed to.
“That’s not called rebelling. It’s called moving forward. Why do you care if I look for someone other than Pete anyway? You got the man you wanted—and Caden’s like a dream come true. A loyal police officer who worships the ground you walk on. Shouldn’t you want the same for me?”
“I care because I love you, Jenna. And you, my friend, are still hooked on Pete.” Bella cocked her head and held Jenna’s stare.
“What is with you? I’m not hooked on him, and I’m not getting any younger. Leanna got her man, you got yours, and now it’s mine and Amy’s turn. Right, Ames?”
“Don’t drag me into this, but Leanna said she thinks you’re doing the right thing,” Amy said. “She and Kurt went back to their beach house a little while ago, because she has a big jam order to fill and was going to work late tonight and early tomorrow, but she was all for Jenna’s new approach to dating.” Leanna owned Luscious Leanna’s Sweet Treats, a jam-making business that she ran out of a cottage on Kurt’s bay-side property. She sold jam, as well as baked goods she made, at the Wellfleet Flea Market and to restaurants and grocery stores around the area.
“And what do you think, Amy?” Jenna plucked a black miniskirt and white button-down, sleeveless top from a hanger and set them on the bed beside Amy.
“I don’t know. I feel bad for Pete. He looked like he wanted to kill that construction guy.” Amy smoothed Jenna’s blouse.
“Charlie,” Jenna corrected her. She’d told them his name four times already, and she was annoyed that her friends refused to use it.
“Charlie. Right,” Amy said.
Jenna’s cell phone vibrated, and Amy snagged it from the center of the bed. “It’s a text from your mom, Jenna.”
“Oh, no. Please.” The last thing she needed was to spend thirty minutes talking to her mother about anything. Miranda Ward had been acting so ridiculous that her lifelong friends were tired of dealing with her. And while Jenna was with her friends, they were battling about Pete, whom she really didn’t want to talk about. She’d gone to talk to Charlie only to escape the way Pete made her entire body hum. She knew that if she didn’t hightail it away from him, she’d fixate on him all summer long. She wasn’t even sure that Charlie was enough of a distraction to keep her feelings for Pete at bay, but she had to try.
“Jenna, she’s having a hard time. Want me to read you the text?” Amy asked.
“Why not? It’s not like she won’t text me eight hundred times in the next hour anyway.” She slipped on turquoise and leather sandals and surveyed them, then set them back in the closet.
“J, it’s Mom.” Amy smiled. “I love how she still does that, like you wouldn’t see her name on the phone.”
“She’s still getting a grip on that kind of stuff,” Jenna said.
“Hope you’re having fun. I was thinking I’d come visit for a few days if you won’t come see me. Okay?”
“Ugh. That’s the last thing I need.” She took the phone from Amy’s hand and texted her mother back. I’m really busy. Let’s talk about it in a few days. Jenna and her mother both lived in Rhode Island, though they lived almost an hour away from each other when Jenna wasn’t at the Cape. The Cape was only about two hours from her mother’s house, but she had no interest in leaving Seaside and going back to deal with her mom, when she could be drowning her Pete Lacroux woes in Charlie. Maybe.
“Let me show you what I’m dealing with.” Jenna scrolled through her pictures and held the phone out toward her friends.
“Oh my goodness.” Bella laughed.
Amy’s eyes widened. “Oh, hon. Your poor mother is really having a hard time. She’s dressed like Madonna, or Madonna’s grandmother.”
“Exactly. See what I’m talking about? Too tight, too short, not to mention that these outfits went out of style ages ago, and she wants to go dancing.” Jenna shoved her phone in her skirt pocket. “Dancing. My mother. The woman who spent her nights needlepointing in front of the television and her Sundays at church. Suddenly she’s lost her mind.”
“No, Jen.” Amy reached for her hand. “She’s lost the man she loved, and that’s not an easy thing to go through after thirty-plus years of marriage. She probably feels like her whole life’s been ripped out from under her.”
“I know. I’m trying to be patient, but come on. It’s been two years. Two years since their divorce. Shouldn’t she be building a new life and not mudding things up for me when I’m trying to get my own life in order?”
Bella looked at her watch. “Oh gosh. I have to go soon. Caden and I are taking Evan up to P-town tonight to see a comedy show.” Provincetown was an artistic community about thirty minutes from Wellfleet. Bella handed Jenna a tie-dyed aqua sarong. “It’s supposed to be chilly tonight.”
Jenna looked at the sarong and wrinkled her nose. “With a body like Charlie’s, do you seriously think I’ll be cold?” Jenna dressed in the skirt and top, leaving the top two buttons of her blouse open. She slipped on the sandals she’d chosen, a pair of dangling silver earrings, and a big red plastic ring that looked like a flower and covered the entire space between the knuckles of her index finger.
Bella planted her hands on her hips. “Jen, what are you doing? You’re not the kind of girl who goes out looking for sex, and with your girls on display like that, any guy would think you’re up for a good time.”
Jenna rolled her eyes and brushed her hair away from her face. She’d always worn her hair in a bob cut just below her ears, but over the winter she’d grown it out, and she liked the way it felt brushing against her shoulders. She felt sexier, and this summer, she needed all the sexy she could muster.
“No, I don’t look like that, and I’m not looking for sex. Although it has been so long since I’ve gotten any that I wonder if my body’s revirginized itself. You guys heard Pete say he might sail away. What do you expect me to do? Hang around vying for his attention for another lonely summer? He’s not interested. Period. Now let me get into the swing of summer dating again. I’m totally out of practice, and it’s so much more fun than dating back home. Everything is better here, and not that I’d remember, but I bet the sex is better here, too.”
Bella held up her finger. “I can attest to that. Come here.” She grabbed Jenna’s arm and pulled her into a hug. Jenna face-planted between Bella’s breasts. “I don’t expect you to wait around for Pete to make a move. But I swear, Jenna, if you turn into a scrump-and-dump whore, I’ll kick your butt.”
Jenna laughed. “I know you will, and I love you for it. I just want…” She pushed from Bella’s arms and gazed out the window. “I want someone to adore me like Caden adores you. I want to experience that moment when our bodies come together for the first time and my stomach dips like I’m going downhill on a roller coaster. That first moment of bliss when everything I worried about—my breath, what I wore on the date, if sex would change things—disappears, and all that remains is total, unencumbered ecstasy. You know that moment when your mind falls to pieces, and it’s all you can do to remember to breathe?”
Amy fell back on the bed with her hand over her heart. “I want that moment, too.”
“I know that moment well.” Bella sighed.
“We know,” Amy and Jenna said in unison.
“So, then, what’s your plan?” Amy sat up and asked.
“I don’t have a plan. When I saw Pete this afternoon and he still wasn’t looking at me like…Well, you know, like he wanted me, and he said he might sail away…Ugh! And you know what’s even worse? I was jealous of his adorable little puppy. I wanted to take her from his arms so I could climb into them and snuggle up against his chest and have him hold me like he wanted to protect me.” Jenna sighed dreamily. “That’s stupid, I know, because I love puppies. I just had to get out of there and refocus my attention on moving forward. I’ve been stuck for too many years.”
“I meant your plan for tonight, goofus,” Amy said. “I know you think you’re over Pete.”
“Which you’re totally not,” Bella added.
“Yes, I am. Or at least I am trying to be.” Jenna pulled Amy to her feet and they went into the living room. The interior of Jenna’s cottage was painted white. Her furniture was Scandinavian in design with sharp edges and neutral flavors of beige with black-and-white accents throughout. The living room was only about twelve feet long and ten feet wide, with a kitchen that was really more of a nook tucked off to the side. The bathroom was built off the living room, and the master bedroom took up the back of the tiny cottage.
Jenna patted Amy’s hip as she walked past and weaved around the coffee table. “Okay, I have to run. I’m meeting Charlie at the Beachcomber.”
“That was smart. No need to be locked in to driving with him. You never know if he’s a freak or not.” Amy motioned for Jenna to spin around. “You look really cute, but, Jenna, are you sure you want to do this? You’ve wanted to be with Pete for so long that I can’t help but feel sad that you’re supposedly done with him. It should be him you’re going out with tonight, not Charlie.” She lowered her voice and said Charlie’s name like a curse word.
“Yeah, well, he had his chance, and obviously I’m a nimrod around him. Can’t you just put your pretty little ideas away and support me on this?” Jenna stuck out her lower lip in a feigned pout.
“Okay, okay, fine. You win.”
Jenna bounced up and down on her toes and hugged Amy. “Thank you. I feel better now. Walk me to my car so I’m not so nervous. I haven’t been on a date in forever.” She took Amy’s hand—borrowing a little of her strength and confidence to carry along with her on her date—and followed Bella outside.
“Do we need an emergency call for tonight?” Amy asked. An emergency call was when they called each other at designated times while they were out on dates, just in case the one on the date needed an excuse to leave. If Amy called and Jenna was having an awful time, she could tell Charlie she had to tend to an emergency—and voilà, the date would end.
“Yes, she does.” Bella pulled her phone out and set an alarm. “It’s seven thirty. I’ll call you at eight fifteen.”
“I’ll call you at nine,” Amy assured Jenna. “Why does this feel so nerve-racking? Bella didn’t need an emergency call when she first went out with Caden.”
Bella climbed into her car. “Maybe because Jenna picked up a construction worker.”
“Oh, please. So what? You picked up a cop.” Jenna settled into her car and reached for Amy’s hand. “When are Tony and Jamie getting here?” Jamie’s grandmother, Vera, owned the cottage on the far side of Leanna’s, and Tony owned the cottage on the opposite side. Vera was in her eighties, and Jamie came up during the weekends to look after her.
“Jamie’s started some new project, so he’s not sure when, maybe in a week or two, but Tony is booked solid with speaking engagements. He texted last night and said that between his surfing competitions and the motivational speaking schedule, he’s not sure he’ll come at all this summer.” Amy’s eyes filled with sadness. She’d had a crush on Tony for years, and like Jenna with Pete, every summer she hoped for more.
“Oh no, Amy. I’m so sorry. I can stay home with you tonight,” Jenna offered. Part of her hoped Amy would ask her to stay.
“Go. Have fun. I’m fine. I have a juicy romance novel to read.” Amy tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Aww, Ames. We both need to get a life, don’t we? You can’t hang on to the hope that Tony will finally come to his senses and realize you’re the best woman on the planet any more than I can wait around for Pete to notice how magnificent I am.” Jenna smiled and pointed to her head. “Men are thick. I’m telling you, thick.”
Amy glanced at Tony’s cottage, then brought her attention back to Jenna. “Yeah. I know. Let’s see how your summer goes before I throw my hope into the wind.”
Jenna blew her a kiss and then headed for the Beachcomber with her heart beating so hard she was sure she’d pop the few buttons she’d secured. What was she doing? She didn’t pick up men on the street, not even fine-looking, hard-bodied men. She thought about what Amy had said about Pete and she wondered if he really had looked like he was going to kill Charlie. The thought made her smile, and then it made her angry. He had no right to get upset, especially since he never seemed to think she was worth asking out.
As she pulled into a parking spot at the Beachcomber, her cell phone rang. Mom. She might as well get it over with now, or her mother would call her a hundred more times before the night was over.
“Hi, Mom. I’m sorry, but I’ve only got a minute. I’m on my way to meet someone.”
“Oh, really?” Her mother was using the new and improved, overly dramatic and far too interested tone that grated on Jenna’s nerves.
“Don’t get your hopes up. We’re just having a drink, maybe going dancing.” Jenna loved to dance, but she hadn’t been since she and the girls went dancing two summers ago. She only wished she were meeting—and going dancing with—Pete instead of Charlie. I’m definitely losing my mind.
“Dancing, now, that sounds like fun. I was thinking, maybe since you aren’t going to be coming home over the next few weeks, I’ll just pop down to the Cape for a few days. I can sleep on your couch.” The cottage had belonged to Jenna’s parents before they stopped going to the Cape and gifted it to Jenna. Jenna had spent summers sleeping on her parents’ pullout couch, but hearing her mother say she’d sleep on it grated on Jenna’s nerves.
Jenna clenched her eyes shut. She loved her mother, but she also loved her summers at Seaside. They were hers, and she’d really like to keep it that way, but Jenna was also softhearted, and Amy was right; her mother was going through a hard time. Her father had decided to marry Cara, a woman just a few years older than Jenna, and Jenna was stuck in the middle of her father’s happiness and her mother’s crisis. She loved her father, but at the same time, she hated seeing her mother so upset. Even though her father hadn’t left her mother for Cara—they’d divorced because they’d grown apart—it was definitely not a fun place to be, sandwiched between two people she loved.
It was too much to think about right now. She had a hunky man waiting for her inside the Beachcomber, and she was ready to be adored.
“Maybe, Mom. Let’s talk about it in a few days, okay? Are you okay otherwise?” Her mother was always okay. That was, until the news of her father’s impending wedding crushed her sense of self. She’d been so strong during the divorce that Jenna was confused at her reaction to the news of her father marrying Cara two years later.
“Oh, yes.” She sighed. “I’m okay. Just miss you, I guess. Nights are long when I’m alone, but go ahead, honey. Enjoy your date. And who knows? Maybe when I come down we can go on a double date.”
Don’t even go there. Jenna didn’t grace her with a response to that unpleasant idea. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Have fun, and be safe. Remember to use—”
“Mom! Stop. We talked about boundaries, remember?” Ever since her mother’s new endeavor to reverse time and become half her age, she wanted to talk about sex and all the things that went along with it. It was enough to turn Jenna’s stomach, and right now, she wanted to be turned on by a hot construction worker, not turned off before she even entered the restaurant.
PETE WIPED HIS hands on his jeans, feeling the gritty particles of recently sanded wood against his palms. He had been working on the schooner all evening, in an effort to keep from dwelling on the fact that Jenna was out on a date with that stinkin’ construction worker. The scent of sawdust and damp earth filled his lungs inside the boat barn he and his father had built five years earlier. The barn was large enough to hold boats up to forty-eight feet, giving Pete room to work freely around the perimeter with ladders and other accoutrements. He stepped back and assessed the schooner. It rested on six jack stands and was an easy twelve feet tall and equally as wide. To a land lover, the schooner would feel massive. To Pete, it felt just right. Comfortable. But in truth, the schooner did more than fill his love of refitting boats. Schooners were his father’s passion. If his father were his old self, he’d be by Pete’s side, working late into the night, rejuvenated by the feel of his hard work vibrating through his chest as he scraped and sanded the wood until it was smooth as silk. He’d be with Pete when he finished refitting the boat and finally took it out on the water.
Pete was holding on to a shred of hope that one day his father would get the help he needed and regain control of the life he once enjoyed, thereby giving Pete back the freedom to live his life the way he used to.
Pete ran his hand through his hair, conjuring up the image of his father as a younger man, his two front teeth overlapping just a hair, adding to his youthful appearance. Neil Lacroux had eyes as dark as night and hair the color of wet sand—perpetually mussed as if he’d just toweled off. Even pushing sixty, Neil held the attention of women and half of the men wherever he went. Pete heard his father’s playful taunts as if he were right there beside him. He’d lift his chin and pretend to see some nonexistent flaw on the boat that Pete had left behind. Hey, jackass. What’s with the ridge along the bow?
Jackass. Pete laughed under his breath, but as always, it didn’t mask the ache of missing the father that he’d spent his life looking up to. Neil had always been a drinker, but after Pete’s mother died, Neil spiraled into the bottle. It had been a slow realization for Pete, as his father owned the local hardware store and he’d been able to mask his drinking during the day, but once the sun fell, Neil followed its downward path straight to the bottom of the bottle. Pete had no idea how his father managed to make it through each day, but then again, the Lacrouxes were experts at pushing emotions aside until they were forced to face them head-on. He supposed that coming home to the empty house his father once shared with his mother might do that to a man.
Pete swallowed the ache that swelled in his throat and filled his veins with a slow burn that never quite fully diminished. He patted his thigh to distract himself. Joey bounded to his side, tail wagging, nose in the air as she vied for attention. Pete knelt beside her and scratched behind her ears.
“Ready to go inside, girl?” He kissed the pup on the snout, then pulled the doors of the oversized barn closed behind them.
The wind chimes sang a gentle melody against the breeze sweeping up the rocky bluff surrounding Pete’s bay-side cottage in Eastham. He inhaled the damp sea air. The fishy, salty smell brought back fond memories. Joey trotted beside him down the sandy path that snaked through the grass toward his cottage, and Pete smiled as he remembered the fun he and his siblings had growing up at the Cape. It seemed like just yesterday when he and his younger brothers, Hunter, Matt, and Grayson, were running around like wild banshees on the beaches, their baby sister, Sky, toddling along behind them. Their hair was always too long, their clothing sandy and wet around their bare, calloused feet. Looking back, he wondered if they drove their mother crazy, but Bea Lacroux would never admit to any such thing. She adored her children, and her husband, until she took her very last breath.
Pete pulled open the screen door and waited for Joey to go inside before shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it on the kitchen table. He washed his hands, then grabbed a can of soup from the cabinet, pulled the tab, and emptied it into a bowl. He set it on the floor for Joey.
“Beef stew. Enjoy, girl.” He opened another can, poured it into a bowl, and heated it in the microwave. He ate standing up, his hip leaning against the counter. Pete had learned to cook from his mother, and he was a good cook, but he rarely took the time to cook a real meal for himself, much less enjoy one. When his siblings visited, which hadn’t been often over the past two years, he’d cook for them, but when it was just him, a can of soup was fine. He thought about Jenna at the Beachcomber with that jerk construction worker and pictured the guy eyeing her across a dimly lit table. Jerk. He tossed the can in the trash and threw his bowl and spoon in the empty sink.
Thinking of Jenna brought his mind back to his sister, which always brought his thoughts back to his father. He snagged the business card for Tatum Rehabilitation Center from beneath a magnet on the refrigerator and ran his thumb over it. He flipped it over and eyed the handwritten emergency number on the back and remembered asking the counselor if there was ever a time that getting someone into rehab wasn’t an emergency. He placed the card back beneath the magnet on the refrigerator and pulled out his phone to call Sky.
Sky was twenty-four years old, and she’d been the closest to their mother. After their mother died, Sky fell apart. She was only twenty-two at the time and on the cusp of a promising career with an art museum in New York. Sky had stopped calling Pete and their brothers, and after not hearing from her for almost a week, Pete had put his life on hold and gone to New York.
“Hey, big brother. What’s up?” Sky always answered the phone the same way, and it made Pete smile. When he’d gone to New York, she was so depressed that he’d had to drag her out of bed each day. He’d stayed by her side as she cried, yelled, screamed, laughed, and worked through every emotion known to man—and finally, after ten days or so, she came out on the other side of the grief that had consumed her. She later quit the job at the museum. Too confining. Pete was still waiting for her to find a career she loved.
“Hi, sis. How’s life?”
“Life’s good. I’ve been drawing a lot, painting, and oh, I almost forgot to tell you, my band started playing these impromptu concerts at the park. Total fun.”
Pete laughed. “Sounds like you’re having a good time. How about work?”
Sky sighed. Pete pictured her tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder and rolling her eyes. “Fine. I’m still working at the co-op.”
The co-op. Not exactly the career he hoped she’d find. She was a bright and talented artist. “Enjoying it?”
“Come on, Pete, lighten up. Yes, I’m enjoying it. I know you want me to find my niche, and I will. Someday.”
“I know you will. Do you need anything? Are you okay financially?”
“Yes, Pete. I’m fine. More importantly, how are you and Dad? I’m trying to clear my schedule so I can visit soon. I’ve tried to call Dad the last few nights, but he never answers his phone.”
Pete grimaced. He’d spent two years protecting Sky from finding out about their father’s drinking—convincing her to stay with him when she visited instead of with their father and intervening when she was planning a surprise visit.
“We’re both fine, but Dad’s pretty busy these days with the store. He’s been going to bed early.” He hated lying to her, but he worried that his father’s drinking might send her spiraling back into the dark place she’d found after their mother died. “Maybe you should wait a few more weeks to come visit.” The need to get his father help took a leap on his priority list.
Sky sighed. “Okay. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Sky. If you need anything, call me.”
“I always do.” She called him when she was missing their mother, or when a guy she was dating pissed her off—and it was all Pete could do not to drive to New York and kick the tar out of the guy.
A few minutes after they ended the call, the clock chimed, drawing his attention to where it hung on the wall beside the refrigerator. He’d managed to avoid thinking of Jenna and Jerko’s date while he was talking to Sky. Or at least to admit to myself that I was thinking of them. Now, as the seconds ticked by with annoyingly loud precision and Joey rested her chin between her paws with a loud sigh, adrenaline flooded Pete’s veins. How would Jenna protect herself if he tried something? What if he got her drunk and she was too out of it to defend herself? She had no idea what she was getting into with that guy. How could she? He was a stranger. Didn’t she learn anything in kindergarten?
He dug his keys from the pocket of his jeans and stared down at Joey. “I’ll just make sure she’s okay, girl. That’s it. I’ll be back in less than an hour. Promise.”
By the time he pulled into the parking lot of the Beachcomber, Pete had thought up all sorts of unsavory situations in his mind. No matter how they began, each ended with Jenna wrapping her arms around Pete’s neck, gushing with appreciation.
The Beachcomber was built at the top of a dune overlooking the ocean. Pete listened to the music coming from the deck at the back of the restaurant, which he knew was lit up with colorful plastic lights. Bands played nightly during the summer, and tonight the music was loud and the tune was surprisingly less beachy and more reminiscent of the seventies, soulful and deep.
Pete drew his shoulders back as he headed around to the other side of the restaurant. A gusty, cool breeze swept across the dunes, rustling the tall grass. He heard Jenna’s laugh before he caught sight of the wide smile that lit up her whole face. Jenna had a loud laugh that some might say sounded like a cackle. They’d be right. It did, and he could single it out anywhere—in a crowded bar, over a band, on a crowded beach—it was a laugh that always drew a smile from Pete, except tonight. His insides churned at the idea of her laughing with that construction worker instead of him. He ran his hand through his hair and looked away, realizing that he hadn’t even bothered to clean up after working on the boat for hours.
“Hey, babe. You coming in? I’d love a dance.” A stacked brunette ran her finger down his chest.
Summer chicks. Summer on the Cape brought horny women and loose men. Although even in the desolate winter months, there was never a shortage of women interested in Pete. He raked his eyes down the brunette’s body. He should have gotten aroused just thinking about that body against his, but the only body he wanted against him was Jenna’s. Jenna’s laugh pulled his attention across the deck.
“No, sorry. I’ll have to pass.” He circled the deck, moving toward the sound of Jenna’s voice.
“Jerk,” the woman mumbled as he walked away.
He lost track of Jenna as he rounded the dance floor, where half-naked twentysomethings clad in short shorts and bikini tops, or tank tops and board shorts, twerked and grinded against one another. He looked down at his black T-shirt, speckled with sawdust, and his dirty jeans, streaked with varnish and caulk. It was dark out, and the tiki lights weren’t that bright. He hoped no one would notice. He moved in closer just as Jenna pushed through the crowd, her hand trailing behind her, attached to Doophus.
Pete’s hands fisted and his eyes narrowed. Jenna turned and placed one hand on Doophus’s chest, the other still holding on to his hand. It took all of Pete’s focus to refrain from storming onto the dance floor, swooping her fine little body into his arms, and whisking her away. Forget this. I’m only here to make sure she’s okay, and she’s fine. She’s all-too fine.
Jenna turned, and their eyes caught. Her smile faded, and that befuddled look he knew too well fell into place like a mask—eyes wide, mouth agape. Her hand dropped from Doophus’s chest and she fidgeted with the edge of her skirt—and Pete found her reaction adorable.
Too stinkin’ adorable.