A Different Christmas Vacation

Chapter Seventeen

I expected to lounge around in my room until four-thirty and then go to ballroom because I’d gotten ready quicker than expected, but instead, Jordan texted me around three-fifty.

Jordan Jones: Don’t leave your room.

Me: Why?

Jordan Jones: Because I’m coming to get you.

Me: Why?

Jordan Jones: Don’t you know how to say anything else? =) Because as your date I find it’s my need to escort you to the ‘celebration.’ I am your date, aren’t I.

Me: I don’t know. You never officially asked me.

Jordan Jones: Doesn’t this count. I am actually asking you, aren’t I?

Me: This is a cheap excuse. Texting? Real smooth.

Jordan Jones: I forgot to ask you earlier because I was kissing you.

Me: Okay...

He didn’t respond and I was confused because he’d been answering so fast. Seconds later, an urgent knock came at my door and I jumped nearly a foot. I went to answer the door to whoever had been frantically knocking, but I was pretty sure I already knew who it was...

When I opened the door, Jordan was already begging on his knees for me to go to the party with him. Even though he looked somewhat like a mess, he did look hot in his dress pants, black socks, and shirtless top half.

“Please, Reina, please, will you go to the party with me?” he begged.

“I don’t know,” I said playfully. “It took you long enough to ask...” I put my finger to my lips and smiled like I was thinking about it.

“Sure, why not? It’s not like I had another date. But why know’s? Maybe I would’ve gone with Quinn.”

Jordan got up off his knees and picked me up bridal-style, planting a big, slobbery kiss on my lips as he carried me to his room.

Laying me down on his bed gently, Jordan returned to his closet and picked out the rest of his suit to put on.

“So, date, would you like a bow tie or a regular tie?” he asked.

“A bow tie would be nice, date,” I answered him.

“Great to know, date. I think I’ll go with that one.”
“Okay, date, you do that.”

As he finished buttoning his crisp white shirt, he tucked it into his dress pants and tightened his belt buckle. After that, he put on his suit coat and then began to tie his bow tie. With a trouble look on his face, he attempted to tie the silky fabric around his neck, but failed to do so. With a laugh, he told me he didn’t know how to tie a bow tie.

“Oh, look at you, big country star doesn’t know how to tie a bow tie,” I said as I knotted the fabric to make a neat bow.

“I can tie a real tie, at least,” he said in defense as I fixed the collar of his dress shirt.

He itched under the bow tie. “I hate this thing, it’s too tight.”

I stood back from him and nodded. “Doesn’t look good anyhow. You should take it off and wear no tie at all,” I suggested.

“Thanks, went to all that trouble for nothing.”

“Okay, just trying to save your cowboy ego. It looks too preppy for you.”