by Judy Angelo
Mitch greeted Jake just as warmly as Ellen had. Not that he’d expected anything different. The Blooms had been like second parents to him from the time he and Jessica were dating until they got married and beyond. Even after Jessica’s death they showed him no resentment but continued to welcome him into their home.
“Don’t blame yourself,” they’d told him. “It was an accident. She’s with God now.”
They seemed to have taken it better than he had. Of course they would. They’d had no hand in her death so there was no reason for them to be racked with guilt. For him, though, it was another matter.
“You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you?” Ellen was saying.
Jake nodded automatically. What was the point in saying no? Ellen would only nag him until she wore him down and he ended up staying anyway. This time he decided to avoid the torture and just give in right away.
As he walked through the house he kept his face emotionless but he was feeling anything but. There were so many things there that screamed Jessica – the old piano where she used to perch on the stool and play him her favorite love songs, the painting they’d picked out together for her mother’s sixtieth birthday, and the old photo album that still sat on the coffee table. He’d flipped through it so many times, laughing at photos of Jessica in diapers, Jessica clutching her blankie on her first day of preschool, Jessica at her high school graduation. Now, instead of joy and laughter, the sight of the album only brought him pain.
Jake spent the next five hours with Ellen and Mitch and although it got a little easier as time passed it was with relief that he finally said goodbye and headed for home.
As he drove, the image of Jessica’s smiling face filled his mind then the vision morphed into a soft heart-shaped face framed with long, dark hair. Sam. What the devil? He’d just been grieving for Jessica and in the middle of it his thoughts darted off to another woman. God, he was sick. How could his mind be consumed with both women at the same time?
One thing he knew, to preserve his sanity he would have to do his best to resist Samantha Fox and her feminine charms. He needed to continue seeing her to complete the renovation project but from here on it would be strictly business.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cream, peach and a slash of burnt orange. That was the color scheme Sam selected for Jake’s music room. Now that he was back from his trip she could move forward with the project. The living room, dining room and den had already been completed and now she was anxious to tackle her favorite room of them all.
She’d been a bit put off by Jake’s tone when she’d called to tell him she was coming. He’d dampened her excitement when he answered her in a bored tone, sounding almost distant. But then she perked up. When he saw the fabric she had selected he would sing a different tune. The music room was going to be a beauty. And then, when she’d got him in a good mood, she would execute Plan B.
As she’d done once before, Sam abandoned the boots, jeans and work shirt in favor of a light cotton dress with flared skirt, its pinched-in waist giving her the appearance of a curvaceous figure. She’d let hair fall loose down her back just the way he liked it and had applied her make-up carefully but not heavily to give her a natural, unaffected look. She’d even gone and had her eyebrows waxed which had the effect of making her eyes stand out in all their deep-brown glory. If Jake McKoy hadn’t noticed her before, today he most certainly would.
Sam was humming under her breath as she rang the doorbell and waited for Jake to let her in. When the door opened she held up her bundle to a sleepy-looking Jake. “You won’t believe what I have here,” she said eagerly. “The perfect material for the music room.” She barely gave him a chance to step aside before she breezed in, the bulky bag of fabrics clutched to her chest. “Come on. Let me show you,” she said and, not waiting to see if he was following, she headed for the room in question.
When she got to her location she made a beeline for the sofa where she sat down and began to spread out her pieces. “Come look at these rich colors,” she gushed, bubbling with enthusiasm. “They’ll be the perfect palette for this room, with its deep mahogany paneling and, of course, the solid ebony of your grand piano.”
She waved a hand, beckoning to Jake who seemed to be hovering in the doorway. “What are you doing all the way over there? Come closer.” She leaned over and patted the other end of the sofa.
He came but then he looked so strange, his back so straight and rigid. He didn’t look comfortable at all.
She frowned. “Are you okay?”
Only then did his posture change. Her question must have made him conscious of how weird he was acting because he gave a sheepish grin and relaxed into the chair.
“Do you like the colors?” she asked, trying to draw him into conversation.
“Yes,” he said with an almost reluctant smile. “Very much.” Now he was beginning to look like his old self again. Thank goodness.
After that things went back to normal with Jake holding lengths of fabric while she matched and measured and shared her plans for recreating the room with matching rug and classic paintings for the wall. Working with a man like Jake was a decorator’s dream. He did not question her choices and, as for the budget, he approved without comment.
Sam was a bit surprised when Jake invited her to stay for lunch. After the way things had started off she’d expected him to see her to the door as soon as their business was done. But no, he’d asked her to stay and she graciously accepted, smiling inwardly. Her improved look must be working.
They lunched on green salad with baby tomatoes followed by grilled cheese and tuna sandwiches, compliments of Chef McKoy, and with each passing moment his spirit seemed to lift. Relieved at his change of mood Sam began to relax and she gladly accepted the wine he offered her at the end of the meal.
“Mm, nice.” She sipped slowly, savoring the tart liquid as it bathed her tongue. “What year?”
“Nineteen eighty-three, from the best vineyard in the Niagara Falls area.” Then he tilted his head and gave her one of his crooked smiles. “Just doing my part to support the local economy.”
“Thanks,” she said with a little giggle. “You’re doing a great job.”
She lifted her napkin to her lips to dab lightly at the moisture there and when she looked up again Jake's eyes were trained on her and the intensity of his blue-eyed gaze brought a hot flush to her cheeks. He did not look away, and even as she lowered the napkin his gaze did not waver. It was almost as if he were captivated by her. Had her charms worked that well?
Suddenly feeling nervous, she gave a little laugh. “The lunch was great,” she said, trying to break the tension. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said quietly and only then did he look away. His brows furrowed and he looked like he had a lot on his mind.
Whatever his issues were, Sam knew there was one thing guaranteed to make him feel better. “Jake, can we go for a walk? Just down to the stream. I’m so full. I think a walk would do me good.”
His face softened and he nodded. And then his eyes were on her lips again and this time she knew he wanted her. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind. Why didn’t he just take her in his arms and kiss her? He wanted it and so did she. But Jake McKoy was trying hard to resist the attraction between them. Well, she wouldn’t let him.
She stood and raised her eyebrows at him. “Coming?”
Even though they strolled it took them less than three minutes to get to the stream but the closer they got the more at ease Jake seemed to become. When they got to the bridge they went to stand in the middle at its highest curve then leaned over to look into the cool, clear water. For a while they stayed silent, breathing in the freshness of the air. When Jake finally turned to her and looked deep into her eyes she knew exactly what he was feeling. She could feel it, too – the pounding of the heart, a quickening of the breath, all in anticipation of a kiss. His eyes, so intense and so blue, said it all.
Her lips parting involunt
arily, Sam closed her eyes then turned her face up to receive his kiss. She waited on his lips to descend on hers. And waited. And waited.
What was taking him so long? Her eyes popped open. What she saw made her heart plummet. Instead of staring down at her with eyes full of desire Jake was scowling. Bewildered by his contrary response, she took an involuntary step backward.
And then Jake spoke. “Stop it, Sam,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to do this. I can’t.”
His words were like a slap to her face, startling her out of her dream world and dragging her back to reality.
Never in her life had she felt so embarrassed. She’d laid herself open and vulnerable before Jake and he’d rejected her, treating her with a contempt that left her devastated.
Her body suddenly cold and trembling, Sam turned and ran back across the bridge, cursing the day she’d decided to take her mother’s foolish advice.
Trying to tempt Jake McKoy had been the worst mistake of her life.
******
So he’d screwed up. Big time. In shielding his heart he’d gone and hurt a woman who didn’t deserve that. And this time…well, he wouldn’t blame her if she refused to even do business with him after this.
He couldn’t take back his words. He couldn’t reverse his actions. Nothing he said or did could erase the look of utter dejection that crossed her face at his words. The sight had been like a knife to his gut and he’d wanted to take it back, to hold her and kiss the pain away. But she’d moved too fast, running blindly across the garden and round the house. And she hadn’t stopped running even then. He heard the engine of her truck start up and then she was gone. He hadn’t heard from her since. One day. Not a long time under normal circumstances but to him it felt like a year. And it wasn’t just his pain that was tearing him apart. It was hers.
He picked up the phone and dialed. She answered on the fifth ring.
“Hello?” Her voice was tentative and faint.
“Sam,” he said gently, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You…didn’t,” she said, her voice cool and tight.
She was lying, of course, but what was the use in arguing that point? Right now all he wanted was to make things right. “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”
“Excuse me?” Her voice was sharp with disbelief.
“I’d like you to have dinner with me,” he repeated, his voice deliberately calm. This was an emotional situation and he didn’t want to make things worse. “That is, if you’re available.”
“Why?” The question was abrupt, her tone suspicious.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
Jake stifled a sigh. She was not making this easy. “I’d like to explain my…behavior.”
Silence. Not exactly the response he’d expected. Where were the questions? Where was the angry rejoinder? Instead, nothing but silence.
“Sam, you have every right to be mad at me but all I’m asking is for a chance to talk to you. Please.”
Finally, after more seconds of silence, her answer came. “Fine. Just this once.”
Not a particularly enthusiastic response but Jake was grateful. She could have said no.
They made the arrangements for the date, with Jake offering to pick her up. She refused. “I’ll meet you there,” she told him. She probably wanted to hold on to the chance to make a quick escape. And how could he blame her? He’d been like a pendulum, swinging from ‘thrilled’ to ‘gloomy’ all in the same afternoon. She probably thought he was nuts.
He smiled ruefully to himself then shook his head. Tomorrow night he’d have to be on his best behavior.
******
Sam pulled into the parking lot of The Italian Garden and shut off the engine. So here she was, all dressed up for her date with Jake McKoy, and she was miserable.
We need to talk, he’d said. And she could just guess what he wanted to talk about. She’d crossed the line when she’d revealed her attraction for him. Obviously, he’d been offended.
She was a plumber, for heaven’s sake, and he was a billionaire author. What business did she have dreaming of winning his heart? She'd attracted his attention, she knew, but so what? When it came to taking a woman seriously men like Jake were only interested in their own kind.
So tonight’s talk could only be one of two things. He was either going to warn her to back off and focus on her job…or he was going to fire her.
She drew in a deep breath, grabbed her purse and slid out of the truck. “Well, here goes nothing,” she murmured under her breath then straightened her shoulders and held her head high. She refused to be defeated. If he didn’t want her, well so be it. She’d had a life before she’d met Jake McKoy and she’d still have one after he was gone.
But when she breezed into the lobby of The Italian Garden she wasn’t so sure. He was standing there, his back to the entrance, seeming totally absorbed in reading the lighted menu on its freestanding pedestal. In dark jacket and black slacks, the subdued light illuminating the profile of his jaw, he looked both serious and sophisticated at the same time.
Sam felt her breath tighten in her chest. It was hard, having to accept that after tonight she’d probably never see him again. She lingered a few seconds longer, drinking him in with her eyes, imprinting the image on her mind, then clutching her purse close she stepped forward. “Hello, Jake,” she said, her voice low and husky even to her own ears. She almost sounded sexy. Well, none of that would be any use to her right now. She was about to get her ‘walking papers’.
He looked up and when he saw her his pensive look dissipated and he gave her a smile that looked genuine. Dared she hope that he was happy to see her?
“Hello, Sam,” he said as he turned toward her. “You look very beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She dropped her eyes, felling the warmth of a blush rising to her cheeks. Get a hold of yourself, woman. He’s just saying that to be polite.
The maitre d’ came forward and Jake cupped her elbow with a firm hand and guided her toward the table for two. He pulled out her chair and waited until she was seated before taking up his position across from her. They placed their order then waited for their wine glasses to be filled. Then, finally alone, their eyes met across the candlelit table.
“Thank you for coming, Sam. I know you didn’t have to.”
She bit her lower lip then nodded. What could she say? I know you’re going to give me the boot but I came anyway because that’s the kind of girl I am? As sad as the thought was she almost smiled. She’d always prided herself on being strong but this evening she was feeling anything thing but.
“I wanted to tell you, I’m sorry.”
Sam blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I know I acted like a brute yesterday and I wanted to apologize. And explain.” Jake frowned as he stroked the stem of his wine glass with his thumb then he gave an almost bitter laugh. “You must think I’m the strangest man you’ve ever met.”
“No, I understand.” She’d said it quickly, without thinking, but then she realized she really did understand. “You lost someone you loved deeply and…you need more time to deal with it.” Sam remembered how long it had taken her to recover from being jilted just a month before her wedding. It had taken a long time for her to even think of another man in that way. How much worse it must be for Jake who had lost the woman he’d shared vows with? He definitely needed more time to heal.
He raised his glass to his lips and took a sip. A few seconds passed and then he spoke. “I wish that was all,” he said sardonically, “but there’s more.”
Sam frowned but said nothing. She would let him speak in his own time. Mirroring his action, she reached for her glass and began to sip her wine. It helped fill the silence while she waited.
“My wife is dead because of me.”
For the second time that evening Sam blinked in surprise. No, shock was a more accurate description of her state. She returned the
wine glass to the table with a bump. “What do you mean?” She stared at him in consternation.
Jake’s face darkened with emotion and his fingers tightened on the stem of his glass till Sam thought it would snap in two. “It was a car accident,” he said, his voice brittle and harsh. “I was the one driving.”
Sam stifled a gasp and held her tongue. Now was not the time to interrupt.
“I…wasn’t paying attention. I took my eye off the road for one split second and…that was all it took.” His jaw tightened and he looked away, eyes narrowed as if seeing the accident all over again. “The SUV in front of us stopped suddenly and I ran into the back of it. It wasn’t a huge van but…Jessica wasn’t wearing her seatbelt.” He looked at Sam then, and his face was gray with pain. “I didn’t know. I thought she’d buckled up. She cracked her head against the windshield. She never…woke up from her coma.”
It was then that Sam reached for his hand. She had to do something, even if just that. She couldn’t bear to see him in so much pain. “It wasn’t your fault, Jake. It was an accident.”
He shook his head sadly. “But it was an accident I caused. When I took my eyes off the road it was to glance at her. We got into an argument over something stupid…I can’t even remember what. All I remember is that I said something in anger, looked at her…and then she screamed.”
“I am…so sorry.” The words were so bare, so inadequate, but Sam didn’t know what else to say. What do you tell a man drowning in a sea of guilt, a man who refused to be comforted because he felt he deserved to suffer?
“If it weren’t for me she’d still be alive.” He pulled his hand away from her grasp and sat back in his chair. Then he folded his arms across his chest. “What right do I have to be happy when the woman I loved is dead and I was the one who killed her?”
Sam slid her hand from off the table and returned it to her lap. As she watched Jake she could see his emotional struggle in the resolute set of his jaw and his defensive posture, folding his arms as if to lock himself away from anyone who would dare reach out to him in sympathy.
