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Page 22

by Nicole Edwards


  “Sure.” While he disappeared, I wandered around the enormous living room, Cat padding close behind. “You didn’t decorate this yourself, did you?” I called out, letting him hear my doubt. Even though I’d asked, I knew he hadn’t.

  Jake briefly stuck his head back in the room. “No.”

  “Didn’t think so.” I might not know him all that well, but this place felt more like a showroom than a home. Like maybe he’d walked through a furniture store and pointed at the various room designs and told them to pack it up and put it in his place. Or better yet, someone else had picked it out and he’d just moved in, sight unseen.

  I looked down at the various pieces of furniture, frowning as I tried to figure them out. Yep, definitely someone else’s doing.

  Definitely didn’t suit his personality. Or maybe it just didn’t have any personality at all. Not sure. I assumed whoever had chosen them was going for eclectic, but they hadn’t quite hit the mark. The place was a mish-mash of different things that didn’t necessarily go together, causing it to have a cluttered gallery feel.

  After giving the living room a thorough once-over, I made my way to the kitchen—a room that was bright and clean and didn’t make me feel as though I was in a museum—to find Jake leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest, waiting for the coffee to finish. I hopped up on the island counter, crossed my ankles, and stared at him. A second later, his curious cat hopped up there with me, rubbing along my side before making his way into my lap.

  “You seriously didn’t give this little guy a name?” I asked.

  Jake turned to look at me. “Cat’s a name.”

  “No, cat is what he is. Spot is a name. Or…” It came to me. “Oreo. That’s a perfect name for him.”

  Jake’s eyes widened. “That’s what my niece calls him.”

  “Really?” That was cool. “Well, I’m gonna call him Oreo.”

  “He only answers to Cat,” Jake replied, grinning.

  “I get the feeling he doesn’t answer to anything at all.” Even though I’d only known him for a few minutes, Cat seemed far too independent to let a mere human boss him around.

  “True.”

  “So, is this what you do for fun?” I asked, petting the cat and nodding toward the fancy coffee maker.

  “Make coffee?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “When I’m not writing, yeah.”

  “So, what? You’ve been making coffee for the past year?” When he gave me that confused look, I laughed. “I have a confession to make.”

  His dark brow lifted slowly, his teal eyes locking with mine.

  I smiled. “I saw you on the Today Show.”

  Jake shook his head, grinned shyly, and dropped his gaze to the floor. He really was attractive, and the little things, such as the reticence, were such a turn-on.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” I assured him, although, to be honest, it had been a train wreck. He’d looked fantastic, but every time he’d opened his mouth, it’d seemed only air had come out. “Next time, you should have them drug you before you go on.”

  “Oh, hell,” he murmured, then turned away from me. “I’m hoping there won’t be a next time.”

  I laughed again. “You spend a lot of time in New York since you moved back?”

  “Only when my editor feels the need to light a fire under my ass, or embarrass me in front of the entire country.”

  “Did the fire work?”

  Jake poured two mugs, then brought one to me after I relocated Cat off my lap and jumped down to the floor. “Not at all. I’ve got sugar and…” He went back to the cabinet, obviously searching for something. He pulled out a container and held it up. “Non-dairy creamer.”

  “That works,” I replied, carrying the mug over. I doctored my coffee and then followed him into the living room.

  “Well, I have to say, if you’re hoping to find inspiration in this place… I don’t see it.”

  When he stopped in the living room, doing a three-sixty, seemingly surveying the place, I wondered what he was thinking. I wasn’t trying to be rude, and I hoped I hadn’t come across that way, but I knew what it took to get inspired. And although this place was nice and it certainly reeked of wealth, he just didn’t fit in here.

  “You said you’ve been here a year?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “Maybe that’s what the problem is.”

  “That you live here?” I watched him, trying to figure out what he meant.

  “No, that it doesn’t feel like me. Maybe it sucked out all my inspiration.”

  “It certainly did mine,” I teased.

  “You know, you’re the first woman who has—”

  Waiting, I lifted a brow, expecting him to continue.

  “Forget I said that.” Jake jerked his head toward the hallway. “Come on. Let me show you something.”

  I won’t lie and say that my nerves didn’t instantly riot when he led me down the narrow hallway, my body warming several degrees—none of it due to the coffee cup in my hand. I couldn’t help but wonder whether he was taking me to his bedroom, although somewhere deep down, I knew he wasn’t. If he’d wanted to get me naked and beneath him, he’d had his chance in my bed, but he’d been the one to call a halt to it before we could get that far.

  Still, the thought brought back the memory of that kiss we’d shared just a short while ago, and the way he’d gotten me off like a teenager in heat. A surge of heat ripped through my veins. Had he not put the brakes on, I honestly couldn’t say that I would have.

  I still remembered the warmth of his body, the weight of him against me, the way his thick erection had nudged against my sex in a way that’d had me moaning with need. Another shiver danced down my spine.

  Yeah. The man had it going on, all right, and I feared I was going to jump him at the first opportunity. Next opportunity. The first had clearly passed me by.

  He stopped at a door, reached inside, and flipped on a light.

  “Well, at least we found some of the personality,” I said, grinning as I stepped into the room that was obviously his office.

  It was huge, possibly half the size of my condo.

  In the center of the room was a large mahogany desk with a laptop and the journal he’d been writing in, both closed. On the far side of the room, bracketing two huge floor-to-ceiling windows, were two dark bookshelves filled with books and a few knickknacks and framed pictures interspersed. On one wall there were poster-size prints of his book covers, hanging above a long, brown leather sofa. The opposite wall held a huge flat-screen television and a whiteboard.

  “This suits you, though it could use some color.”

  Jake was leaning against the doorjamb, holding his coffee cup as he watched me. “That’s my next step.”

  “From your list of things to do instead of write?” I asked. I knew where he was coming from. I was the same way. When I couldn’t draw, I filled my time doing mundane tasks, too. Not that it always helped, but it did fill the time.

  Jake grinned, those sexy, full lips curling in such a way that made my body tingle. “What color?”

  For a moment I was too distracted by his lips to figure out what he was asking, but then I remembered we’d been talking about paint.

  “For this room?” I looked around, assessing the furniture and the other odds and ends. “I’d go with something dark.” I nodded toward the windows. “You obviously get a lot of light, so it’d help to tone it down some, make it feel a bit homier.”

  “And the rest?” Jake glanced out into the hall.

  I shrugged, took a sip of my coffee.

  Jake raised his eyebrows at me, then turned and left me standing in his office. I followed as he headed back to the living room. He set his coffee cup down, then grabbed a book off the coffee table as I took a seat on one end of the sofa. He sat beside me, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, flipping the book open.

  I chuckled. It was a book of paint colors. He hadn’t been kidding about planning to paint.


  When he leaned back, his body close enough to mine that I could feel the heat of him, smell his cologne, it took me a moment to acclimate. I liked him, and with every passing second, I was liking him more and more. I couldn’t fight that fact. As far as what that meant, I had no idea.

  But for now, I was content to scan paint options for his condo, to drink his coffee, and above all else, to enjoy how good he made me feel just sitting beside me. The man had the ability to distract me entirely.

  Case in point, at that moment, I realized we’d forgotten about lunch altogether.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Jake

  That promise I’d made to not fuck this up… Yeah, well, it was a hell of a lot harder than I’d thought it would be.

  First of all, I liked this girl. Really, really liked her. Not only because she was by far the most intriguingly beautiful woman I’d ever met, but I enjoyed her company, listening to her talk, watching how expressive she was, seeing the smile that lit up her face. And most importantly, I enjoyed her view on things and the fact that she spoke her mind with ease.

  “So, when you look around this place,” she said, nudging my arm, “what do you see?”

  Leaning back against the cushions, I glanced around. “I see bland walls, weird furniture, and tacky decorations.”

  “Like the hideous flamingo lamp?” she asked, nodding toward the wall behind us.

  “Really?” I glanced at her. “You don’t like Flammy?”

  Presley’s eyebrows lifted and her eyes widened, making me laugh.

  “Kidding,” I told her. “It’s terrifying. And so are the ram heads on the wall.”

  Presley laughed. “It’s like they’re watching me, which is definitely creepy. But so is the strange coffee table over there.”

  I peered over to the small seating area—the one that made absolutely no sense and had never been used since I’d moved in. “The one that looks like an upside-down crown?”

  “That’d be the one. And what’s up with the slip covers on the dining room chairs? Looks like something your grandmother would use to decorate.”

  I laughed. It did look a little old-fashioned. Turning my head, I looked back at Presley. “I think we need to redecorate.”

  Her smile was slow and sweet. “I think that’s a good plan.”

  “Oh, my God! I’ve been telling him that for months.”

  My eyes snapped up, locating the person who owned the voice, only to find my assistant standing in the living room, her hands on her hips. How the hell had she come in without me hearing her?

  “Why are you here?” I asked Josie, the woman responsible for keeping my life on track. “My assistant,” I explained to Presley.

  “Assistant?” Presley’s grin lit up her face, but I could see a hint of confusion in her eyes. “Jacob Wild has a personal assistant. Cute.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a snort before looking back at Josie. “Again, why are you here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Josie retorted, tossing her coat on the back of the chair, her eyes sliding to Presley. “Nice to meet you. I’m Josie.”

  Shit. I was a crappy host. I hadn’t even formally introduced them. Then again, I hadn’t ever introduced a woman to Josie. It simply didn’t happen.

  Until now.

  “Josie, this is Presley Abrams. Presley, this is Josie Ingram, my personal assistant.”

  Josie held out her hand, smiling brilliantly at Presley. “Very nice to meet you.” Her gaze slid to my face, but I kept my expression masked.

  “You, too,” Presley greeted shyly, both women continuing to eye me suspiciously.

  “Seriously,” I said. “Why’re you here? It’s Friday. Don’t you have the day off?”

  “Usually, yes,” Josie answered with a beaming grin. “But this hard-ass boss of mine has me handling the people coming in to paint his condo.”

  “That’s today?”

  “Tomorrow,” Josie clarified.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “I completely forgot.”

  “Of course you did,” Josie stated, sounding not at all surprised. Her eyes slid to Presley. “He’d forget everything if it weren’t for me keeping him on track.”

  I felt the heat of Presley’s stare. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

  My eyes locked on her and I couldn’t look away.

  When the silence got to be too much, Josie cleared her throat and laughed, her eyes darting between the two of us once again before landing on Presley.

  “I really didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s just...” Once again, Josie seemed tongue-tied.

  I lifted my eyebrows, silently encouraging her to continue.

  “Sorry. It’s rare that Jake can throw me, but today … color me green and call me a pickle.” Josie nodded her chin toward Presley. “Can I just say that I absolutely adore your hair?”

  That was Josie, always inserting some strange phrase that generally left me trying to decipher the riddle. Not to mention, she was always right to the point, speaking her mind and sharing her opinion. Truth was, those were some of the things I liked about her. And, much like Presley, Josie didn’t placate me (most of the time) and I appreciated that.

  “Thanks,” Presley said, her hand sliding away from my leg, where it had been settled a moment ago.

  “I completely forgot about the painters,” I told Josie.

  “Obviously. You said you were gonna stay with your sister.”

  Right. My sister.

  Josie cocked her head and I could feel Presley staring at me, as well.

  “And…” Josie prompted.

  I didn’t want to go stay with my sister, but I didn’t know whether or not I should tell Josie that.

  “For how long?” Presley asked.

  “I told them they had to get it done in two days,” Josie explained. “The painters will be here by six in the morning to start prepping things. They agreed to get it all knocked out this weekend.”

  I remembered now. Still, I didn’t want to go stay with my sister.

  “I know of a place we can go,” Presley said, pulling my attention to her.

  Had I said that out loud?

  “For…?”

  “For us to go for the weekend.” She sounded as though she were explaining herself to a child, which made me grin.

  “Yes,” Josie said. “Y’all should go.”

  I choked on a laugh. Josie didn’t even know what Presley had in mind, but she was already sending me on my way.

  Presley’s coral eyebrow lifted in question. “I told you about my dad’s cabin on the lake. When he died, I couldn’t bring myself to sell it. I go there from time to time when I need to get away, or for inspiration.”

  “Perfect.” Josie clapped her hands together. “Y’all can get inspired together.”

  I was fairly certain there was an innuendo in there somewhere, but I pretended not to notice. The blush on Presley’s cheeks said she’d noticed, too.

  “It’s a nice place,” Presley said, as though she was trying to convince me.

  I didn’t need convincing; I just wasn’t sure I wanted to put her out like that.

  Josie lowered her voice into some form of a conspiratorial whisper. “He told me about you. And I think you’ve sparked his muse. Maybe if the two of you jet for the weekend, he’ll be able to write that book that Liz has been hounding me about.”

  Yes, Liz had been known to call Josie when I didn’t answer the phone.

  “They won’t be here until tomorrow?” I asked, getting to my feet.

  “Yes, but they’re coming at six. Which was why I had planned to stay the night. It gives me an extra hour to sleep.” She glared at me. “Without you here.”

  Right.

  “So, if you head out tonight, I can still do that.”

  Presley was watching me.

  Then it was Josie’s turn to elaborate in an obvious attempt to help me along. “I’ll be here while they’re here. The whole time, I promise. And if it make
s you feel better, Paige and Abby are coming by.”

  I trusted Josie. I didn’t need the explanations.

  I nodded, then looked at Presley. “Are you sure about this?” I knew I shouldn’t put her on the spot in front of Josie, but I suddenly liked the idea of getting away for the weekend. “I can always go to a hotel.”

  She smiled back at me, her eyes roaming over my face slowly. “Well, Gil already told me I needed to take a vacation, so … sure. Why not?”

  “A cabin?” I asked.

  “Technically,” Presley said, “yes, it’s a log cabin. But my dad lived there, so it’s got all the comforts of home.”

  “Sounds perf—”

  I quickly cut Josie off with a look.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Okay,” Presley said, getting to her feet. “Let’s do this.”

  “Yeah.” I glanced from Presley to Josie, then back again. “Let’s do this.” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but … well, I was surprised. After the way things had started between us, I definitely wasn’t expecting her to invite me for a weekend at a cabin.

  “Good,” she said with a sweet smile and a wink. “I need to stop by my place so I can pack a bag.”

  I nodded. “Since you live next door, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

  “You live next door?” Josie’s voice was high-pitched.

  We both turned to look at her.

  “I do,” Presley said. “With two roommates.”

  “The guys with head-to-toe tattoos?” Josie questioned, her eyes looking a little dreamy.

  Presley nodded.

  I don’t think I’d ever seen Josie’s smile get that big. I didn’t even want to ask why that made her happy.

  “Okay. Then it’s settled,” Josie added, looking serious once again as she pinned me with a stare. “I’ll just busy myself with emails while you pack your stuff and get out.” Her gaze dropped back to Presley briefly before she turned toward the hall leading to her office.

  “Oh,” I said, “before I forget, can you go through the living rooms and dining room and catalog all the furniture? I need a couple of pictures of everything for a record.”

  “You’re selling it?” Josie’s brown eyes lit up. “Oh, sweet Sylvia Sue. Please tell me you’re selling it.” Josie sounded strangely hopeful.

 

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