Jump Start by Lisa Renee Jones Page B

me without your coffee. And I loaned you clothes. You should be nice to me.” She started to sip her coffee and stopped to add, “And I’m the bride. That’s a free ticket to tolerance, even if I admitted that I only had decaf in the house.”
    Jennifer gave her a mocking smile and leaned on the counter. “Which is why I made you coffee, not everyone else. I was joking about that part. Sort of. A little. Not really.” She blinked. “Wait. Are you telling me the coffee in that canister I used is decaf?”
    “Uh-huh,” Marcie said, sipping from her cup with a keen eye. “Mark felt I was jittery with the wedding approaching.”
    “Okay then,” Jennifer said. “I’m headed to Starbucks so you can keep the thermos I was about to fill. Actually, I’ll take it and put a second cup in it.” She narrowed her gaze. “Be nice to your husband-to-be while I’m gone or I won’t bring it back.” The two lovebirds had been snapping at each other yet again this morning, and Jennifer was starting to worry about them.
    “He tricked me into agreeing to skydive,” Marcie said. “And he forced decaf on me. You know how serious that is.”
    Bobby sauntered into the kitchen, looking weary, his eyes heavy. Jennifer had a feeling he hadn’t slept at all. “Do I smell coffee?” he asked.
    “It’s all your fault,” Marcie accused, glaring at Bobby. “You and your stupid ‘let’s go skydiving’ suggestion. Well, Bobby, I’ll tell you right now, if I’m skydiving, let’s go today when I’m nice and sick so I can aim in your direction.”
    “Reservations are for tomorrow,” he said, snagging a cup from the cabinet and filling it. “Mark and I planned it so everyone could recover from the party. And don’t either of you tell me you can’t go.” He eyed Jennifer. “I know you close your clinic that day.” His gaze shifted to Marcie. “And Mark has the bar covered.” Jennifer handed him the vanilla creamer on the counter without thinking, knowing he liked it. He took it from her, a twinkle in his eyes, telling her he caught what she’d done.
    “Don’t get too excited,” she told him. “It’s decaf.”
    Bobby set the cream down. “Oh, hell. What the flip, Marcie? I thought only little old ladies bought decaf.”
    “And high-strung brides-to-be,” Mark said, walking into the kitchen, looking about as half-dead as Marcie. “Drastic actions were required if I’m going to survive until the wedding.”
    “You want me to jump out of a plane, but I can’t have caffeine,” Marcie complained. “That’s wrong.”
    Mark arched a brow. “I’m not seeing the problem.” He glanced at Bobby. “Can you help me roll the cover over the dance floor, man? I don’t want those guys moaning at me when they come to pick it up.”
    “Sure,” Bobby said, without hesitation. Bobby had always been willing to help a friend. Last night had proven to Jennifer that hadn’t changed. She liked that about him. One of the things that had made loving Bobby so easy was liking him. Jennifer turned away, put the thermos in the cabinet, intentionally giving Bobby her back for fear her expression was a little too transparent—the “I loved you, please don’t let me love you again” feeling twisting in her stomach.
    Mark walked to Marcie and kissed her. “And don’t you moan at me either, or I might have to turn you over my knee.”
    “Promises, promises,” Marcie mumbled.
    Jennifer shut the cabinet to find Bobby sipping the coffee and setting it down. He winked at Jennifer. “Pretend there is caffeine. It tastes the same.”
    “It’s the jolt, not the taste, I was going for,” she assured him.
    Before she knew his intention, he grabbed her and kissed her. “How’s that for a jolt?” he asked softly.
    She’d let him know when she stopped vibrating, which might be several hours from now. “Bobby,” she chided.
    He leaned close, his lips near her ear, his breath warm, his body hot and hard. “You felt good last