by Claire Cain
The deadly combination of his physically attractive form, his sexy brain, and now not only his desire for me, but his ready willingness to express it? Well… there was something primal that happened. Something in a woman’s DNA reached out and said, This one. Now.
“Have you? That’s funny because I nearly forgot you were coming over,” I said, giving him an overly-sweet smile.
“I’ll have to work on being more memorable, then,” he said with a determined grin.
“Guess so.” I let my hands drop away from his arms, even though I mostly wanted to keep kissing him and feeling up his arms.
“I was going to pop some popcorn.” I turned to the kitchen and he followed me.
“Sounds good. What’s the movie selection for tonight?”
“I’ve narrowed it down to three, then you choose from those. You’ve Got Mail, a classic. The Proposal, full of Ryan Reynolds’ beauty as well as a classic marriage of convenience trope, and finally Crazy, Stupid, Love, the most recent of the lot, and inarguably the best of the three.” I pressed start on the microwave and leaned back against the counter next to him, waiting to see which he’d choose.
“I have seen Crazy, Stupid, Love, so I’ll rule that one out, even though I’d watch it again. As much of a fan of Ryan Reynolds as I am, I’m going to go with You’ve Got Mail since it sounds like the best place to begin my education.”
“Excellent choice.”
We chatted while the popcorn popped, and I learned Henry would leave for his internship in a few days.
“I don’t want you to miss time with him. You should tell him to come over,” I said, immediately annoyed with myself. I didn’t want him to miss out on time with Henry, but I definitely didn’t want Henry with us tonight.
“Really?” he asked.
“Of course. I don’t want you guys to have to miss out on time together. You don’t see each other very often, and it seems like he’s going to be busy with his internship and won’t get up here as often once he starts.” I focused my attention on pouring the bag of popcorn into a large bowl.
“I appreciate that, Elizabeth.”
I grabbed the bowl of popcorn and gestured to the two glasses of water I’d poured. “Will you grab those? There’s beer in the fridge if you want one.”
“No, I’m good.”
I set the popcorn on the coffee table and sat down in one corner, the one where I always sat. He placed the glasses, then sat down next to me. He was about eight inches away, in the middle of the couch. We weren’t touching, but he hadn’t opted to give me much space, which I appreciated.
“Should we wait for him?” I asked, folding my fingers together in front of me because all I could think about was running them along the curve of his jaw, down his neck, over his shoulders.
“Wait?” He gave me a confused look.
“For Henry?” I clarified.
He looked at me, his brow furrowed, and shook his head, just once. “No. Definitely not. I didn’t invite him.”
“It’s totally—”
“Ellie, I know what you said. I don’t want him here. I love my brother, but I want to be here with you, without him.”
I swallowed. I didn’t want Henry there either, but it was a little unnerving how willing he was to just say these things. I appreciated it, but it sent my pulse racing.
“Ok. Good,” I eked out. I didn’t want Henry there with us anyway, but suddenly I felt a little more like a bumbling teen than a fully grown, capable woman.
I focused all my attention on pulling up Netflix and selecting the movie. Jake was watching me, studying me, and it did nothing to calm my nerves. Why was I nervous? I’d literally just kissed him. It wasn’t like there was suspense about whether or not that would happen. Maybe it was the sensation that it was all I wanted to do, and him sitting right next to me, sitting there with his face and hands and his general existence all begging me to come get a closer look/feel/taste was something I couldn’t ignore.
It was also something I’d never experienced.
“Am I making you nervous?” he asked as he ran his fingers along the back of the couch, then over my shoulder, and then stroked up and down my back and neck. He did this so casually I thought I might be imagining it, except I could absolutely feel him touching me.
I shuddered. It wasn’t in my mind.
“Honestly? Yes,” I said, turning toward him as the opening credits of the movie began.
“Why? What are you nervous about?” There it was. That demanding voice. I puffed out a breath and steadied at the sound. It was easier than listening to his velvet voice saying all of those sweet, near confessions.
“I’m not sure.” I wasn’t sure how to say it to him, anyway.
“Yes, you are. Tell me,” he said, his hand now resting where my neck met my shoulder, his thumb on the back of my neck sweeping arcs of sensation back and forth. It would have been soothing if it hadn’t been distracting.
I let out another deep breath. I could tell he wasn’t flirting, but trying to understand, and maybe he was even a little worried. “I think you make me a little nervous. It’s not a big deal. I like you and I’m glad you’re here, but you’re kind of…” I trailed off, not sure I wanted to admit what I thought of him.
He looked at me, his eyes light in the wake of my blustering whoosh of information. “I’m what?” He inched closer so now our knees were touching.
“You’re kind of intimidating. But I’m pretty sure you know that,” I said, watching the corners of his mouth tilt down.
“How could I possibly be intimidating to you?” He seemed genuinely baffled.
“Um… I’m sorry, have you met yourself? You’re this close-lipped hard-ass of a sergeant in the Army who can beat up anyone he comes across and also happens to be an overachieving brainiac who’s managed a full-time career with great success before most people even decide what they want to be when they grow up. Oh, and by the way, you’re like the most adorable brother and grandson of all time. And that is also not to mention this whole situation you’ve got going on here,” I said and gestured to his body with a dismissive wave. “So. Yeah.” I ran my hands back and forth along my legs, smoothing out the already taut denim and stilling the tremble in my hands.
“I’m confused, Ellie. Am I a hard-ass, or am I adorable?” He looked amused.
“Both.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Trust me, it does. It’s intimidating.”
“Well forgive me if I don’t see how you, a woman with a PhD, who’s running a fully funded research study by herself, writing novels left and right, and probably one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, can be intimidated by me.” He was practically glaring at me. “And then there’s the problem of your physical appearance, which is nothing short of completely distracting,” he added. His expression reminded me of the way he looked at me when we’d argued for the first time months ago.
“Wait—are you getting mad?” I was a little surprised, and thrilled. How could this guy not see he was intimidating?
“I’m not mad, Ellie. I’m surprised. You’re not a woman who is easily intimidated, and I don’t like the idea you think of me that way.” His expression softened, and his fingers swept into the hair at the nape of my neck.
“It’s hard to explain. But, it’s not a bad thing.” I looked at him, confirming he understood me even as the space between my neck and my belly button was staging an absolute riot in response to my confession. “I like you, Jake.”
He looked at me then for a long time. His eyes were dark today with his dark t-shirt. They searched my eyes, surveyed my face, and landed on my lips. He pulled me to him so our faces were close, then closer, then our lips met. He pulled me in, one hand on my neck, the other finding my body and urging me forward. We stayed pressed together for a few moments, then he lifted my legs to rest across his and wrapped his arms around me. Tom Hanks in all his charm flickered on the screen without anyone watching.
With
Jake’s mouth on mine, there was nothing I could do but enjoy the sensation. His nearness. The clean scent of his soap, the light mint taste of his mouth, the demanding pressure of his fingers as they ran over my back. I moved closer, my hands running up his chest, up his neck, and into his hair. He groaned and pulled me even closer, so there was no space between us, our bodies crushed together and overlapping as we kissed.
I felt dizzy and completely unable to form any thought other than that I would be happy to continue kissing this man, to be crushed up against him, for all of time. Just as this thought passed through my mind, he pulled back, and I took in the delectable sight of Jake Harrison staring at me with all the desire and need a man could own.
I’d never been looked at that way before, but I recognized it, and I knew I had the same look on my face. My heart raced, and I leaned back, his hands releasing me enough so I could.
“You’ve been calling me Ellie,” I said, and as I did so, my face cracked into a wide smile.
“I have.” He searched my face. “That ok?”
“Of course. I was relieved when you stopped calling me ma’am and Dr. Kent all the time. My favorite people call me Ellie, so it fits that you would.” I had started to feel shy about that admission, that he was one of my favorite people now, but I couldn’t summon the shyness once I saw his blazing smile. His eyes lit up, his gorgeous teeth were all on display. I’d almost call the smile triumphant.
“I’m glad I’ve earned the rights, then,” he said, and then squeezed my shoulders, his arm still wrapped around them with a hand resting on my bicep.
I nodded, leaned in to give him a quick kiss, sat back so my back was against the side of the couch and I could see him and the TV, my legs still across his lap. He stretched out his arm so it lightly touched my neck, my ear. Would I ever stop having that fluttery feeling in my stomach when he was near me?
We sat there, snuggled together for the rest of the movie. Since it was early, and neither one of us wanted the evening to end, we ordered pizza and watched The Proposal. He did a little bit of heckling, but I could tell he enjoyed it. I was relieved he wasn’t someone who couldn’t stand anything other than an action or war movie.
Later, I startled awake, my eyes fluttering open, and I felt Jake’s arms around me give me a reassuring hug. The light of the stove was on in the kitchen and a little light came through from the patio light outside, but otherwise it was dark in the living room, the TV long-since gone to the screen saver.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I said and slowly slid out of his arms, standing to stretch my arms toward the ceiling.
“I should go now. We both have work tomorrow,” he said and pushed himself up off the couch enough so he could grab me around the waist and pull me back down so we were lying face to face.
“Hey!” I said before his mouth captured mine and silenced the rest of my thought. I turned into him, brought my hands to his face, and kissed him back.
And then, we struck a match.
His hands were everywhere, warm and greedy, just like mine. I felt the hard planes of his chest and ran my hands under his shirt to feel his warm skin. At my touch, he pulled me closer, if that was possible, and his kiss was a torch in the dark room. We pressed into each other, desperate to erase anything separating us, his hands tangled in my hair, in my shirt.
Then he pulled back and brushed his hands over my hair and stood up abruptly, bringing us both to our feet.
He grabbed his keys and wallet, which he’d discarded on the side table when he’d arrived. I could see him clinching his jaw, the small muscles flexing, and wondered what was wrong. He walked to the patio door, and I grabbed his hand.
“What’s—Are you ok?”
His expression could be so serious. He squeezed my hand, and then jerked me so I thudded against him. My chest crushed against his, and though the force of the movement surprised me, it felt good. Being this close to him was exactly where I wanted to be, and I relished the heat and resistance I felt when I leaned against him. I steadied myself with my other hand on his shoulder, his very warm, built shoulder, and heard his rough voice at my ear.
“I want to stay with you, Ellie. But I’m leaving now.” His voice was almost harsh, his lips brushed my ear, and his breath whispered down my neck. My skin pricked with awareness, and my stomach tightened at his admission. I opened my mouth to say… something. But I didn’t speak.
You can have me. Take me now. I want you too. Don’t go. I think I’m in love with you. All these things might have come out of my mouth. Probably best they didn’t.
Probably.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said, that voice a sure declaration, writing on a stone tablet somewhere in ancient Sumeria. He let go of my hand, and before I could ever figure out how to respond, he was gone. I locked the door and wandered to the bathroom to get ready for bed, still in a flushed daze.
The workweek started out fine. I was tired from staying up late with Jake but felt invigorated by the relationship developing there. I liked this man—a lot. He obviously liked me too. He was attractive on every level, and other than a niggling sense of doubt that tended to crop up at the most frustrating times, I believed he wasn’t closed off to the possibility of a future. I wasn’t ready to sign the dotted line or anything—far from it. But not having felt the way I did about him for anyone else, it seemed important that I knew it wasn’t going to come to a screeching halt once we were ready to level up, so to speak. I was about as casual as high tea at Kensington palace when it came to relationships, so the future thing? It mattered to me.
Anyway, the week was going fine. It was Tuesday night when things started to go askew.
Jake texted Monday and asked me to come over for dinner on Tuesday. Henry was leaving Wednesday and he wanted to see me again, plus I wanted to see Jake, so it was ideal. I wandered over after work, enjoying the fact that I lived so close to them, and knocked on the patio door.
“Ellie, come in. Henry doesn’t want to eat outside because he’s whining about getting eaten by mosquitos,” Jake said and beckoned me in from where he stood in the kitchen.
“I’m not whining. I am getting eaten. They like me too much. They can tell grade A blood when they smell it,” Henry said and set down the last fork at the small dinner table where he was standing.
“They like Alex, too. They eat her alive. It’s one of many reasons she hates camping,” I said and walked into the kitchen. Jake was spooning rice into a bowl. There was a small plate piled with grilled chicken breasts and a salad already made.
“Wow, you guys really have an A game when it comes to feeding guests,” I marveled. Jake’s eyes traveled from my worn tennis shoes up my body and met my eyes with a hungry look. I bit my lip to help conceal my surprise and, let’s be honest, the pleased feeling swirling around low in my belly.
“Grandma taught us to cook. Just the basics, but we’ve always cooked for ourselves when we’re together,” Henry explained.
We carried the food to the little table and sat down. Jake said a prayer—a short one, but not something memorized, or rote, and it felt like I got a glimpse into their lives as big and little brother. It was unexpected and reminded me how much I didn’t know about him, even when I felt like I did know a lot. Then we dug in, forks clinking against plates, and Henry did lots of talking.
It was a lovely time. I liked Henry, and I obviously liked Jake, and seeing them together only made me like Jake even more. He teased Henry but also encouraged him and often challenged him.
“I don’t know how often I’m going to see Grandma once I start work,” Henry said, shoving a large piece of grilled chicken in his mouth.
“Yes, you do. Every weekend. Like always,” Jake said, leveling Henry with an irked stare.
“Obviously I’m going to try, but I don’t know. I think I’ll have to work weekends sometimes—that’s what happens in hospitality. It’s not like I’ve chosen a nine-to-five industry.”
“Then you’ll go as soo
n after the weekend as you can. Monday. Whatever.” Jake’s voice brooked no argument.
“Yes, your highness. I know. I’m not going to abandon the most important woman in my life. I owe her pretty much everything, including the fact that I didn’t turn out to be a serial killer because if it’d been left to you I’m pretty sure I would have been groomed for it,” Henry said.
“I’m pretty sure people aren’t groomed to be serial killers. You have to be born a psychopath first,” I chimed in.
“Oh Ellie, you’re too literal. Just go with it. And don’t try to soften the blow to your boyfriend’s ego. It’s too big, and it can take the hit.” Henry nudged my arm, which was resting on the table to his right.
I made sure work of studying my food then, not willing to look up and see what Jake thought of Henry’s title for him.
The food was surprisingly good. Maybe that was because I was only a decent cook, and then Alex was an amazing cook. Most everyone else I encountered was in the pretty bad to actively bad range.
When I finally did look up, Jake’s eyes were on me. I knew it was coming, I was expecting it, but it didn’t change how awkward I felt about it. Was he my boyfriend? I didn’t think so, but then, wasn’t that exactly what I thought I wanted? I wasn’t dating around. I certainly didn’t want him to, either.
“Why’d you get all quiet and weird?” Henry asked, and for the second time that day, I was ready to knock him upside the head. I saw Jake raise his eyebrows in challenge, adding support to his brother’s question.
“Uh, oh… nothing?” I stuttered and focused on folding my napkin neatly into a triangle. Important work.
“I think it’s because you referred to me as her boyfriend,” Jake explained, and I felt my cheeks heat. These two did not beat around the bush.
“Really? I assumed that was the case. This guy is practically in l—”
“Henry. Give the woman a break,” Jake said through clinched teeth and shoved his brother’s shoulder to stop him. Henry took the hint and clamped his mouth shut.
