The Jacket Snatcher

Chapter 43- Dinner with the Other Parents

"Do I look okay?" Luke asks, fidgeting with the bowtie around his neck.

I come over and straighten out his collar. Instead of answering him, I press a quick kiss to his lips. "Fishing for compliments?" I ask with a grin.

"Nah. I was betting on my girlfriend reassuring me with a kiss." He smirks. "I won."

He's been saying that a lot--girlfriend. He used to say it sometimes before, but now I know that he's not just trying to make me blush...well, maybe he is...but this time he's at least being serious when he says it. And every time he does, my stomach flutters.

He wraps his arms around me-which doesn't help with the stomach fluttering-bends his head down, and connects our lips once more. But as his hands come up to my face and wind into my hair, I pull back.

"Hey, hey! I just fixed my hair!" I protest, backing up.

"Oh, come on! It looks the same!"

I gape at him. "Um. Rude."

"No, no. That's not what I meant!" He says, coming towards me. He wraps an arm around the small of my back, pressing us together. I let him. "What I mean is that it always looks beautiful."

He stares straight at me, and I melt slightly in his arms.

"So a little make out session won't hurt anybody," he says with a smirk. But just as he leans down, I extricate myself from his arms and sprint to the bathroom, picking up my dress on the way in.

He chases me all the way up to the point where I slam the door in his face and lock it.

"I don't think so," I say through the door. "Other than you messing up my hair, we can't be late. My parents made a reservation."

He chuckles. "Well, then let me help you get dressed. It will go by quicker that way."

I can picture his stupid grin through the door.

"I think I can manage it," I say as I pull my t-shirt over my head and let my shorts slide to the ground. Careful not to tip over, I step into the dress I picked out for tonight. It's a simple white summer dress with peach cutout lace over the top. It's fancy enough for the restaurant we're going to, but not an over-the-top cocktail dress or anything.

After putting my arms through the sleeveless bodice, I reach behind me to zip it up. My fingers manage to zip it all the way to where my bra sits, halfway up my back. I suck in a sharp breath as I try to angle my wrist enough to push the zipper higher. It barely moves.

With a displeased sigh, I roll my eyes at myself in the mirror.

"Luke?" I'm sure he can hear the annoyance in my voice.

"Yes, dear?" His response comes from right outside the door; I don't think he ever left it.

Taking a breath, I put my hand on the doorknob.

"I think I need your help." He doesn't say anything, so I open it and turn around, pulling my hair up to expose the last bit of unzipped dress. "But if your hands start moving south, I won't hesitate to kick you."

He chuckles; then I feel him take the zipper and start pulling it up. One of his hands rests on my hip as the other finishes what I started. His fingers linger for a moment, brushing across the nape of my neck. I suck in a sharp breath and do my best to suppress a shiver. But just as I am regaining my composure, his lips attach themselves to my exposed shoulder, and I tremble.

He uses the hand that's still on my hip to turn me around, then backs up and gives me a once-over.

"You look beautiful," he says.