Still held back. God, she hated the fear but it was still there. Maybe someday—
“Hey.” Jake stroked a finger over her jaw. “You still here?”
“Yeah.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her lightly on her lips. “You know what? It’s late.” With a gentle squeeze of her hips, he lifted her off him. “You need to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
The last day before the show. He was right, big day, huge day, but…why wasn’t he trying to make her beg? Sure she’d said she wouldn’t, but damn, he could have tried a little harder.
Because really, it would’ve only taken one touch, just one more from him and she just might have.
But he stood up and pulled her up, too, keeping his hands light at her hips, looking at her with a smile on his lips. Completely at ease.
Touch me.
But her pride stuck in her throat along with her hunger for him. Not a tasty combination. “Yeah.” She forced a smile. “Big day tomorrow.”
We could have a big night, as well….
She bit her tongue just in case it popped out of her mouth. But clueless, whether by design or not, Jake just took her hand and walked her to her front door.
Damn him.
CHAPTER TEN
JAKE’S CELL PHONE rang at five the next morning, an hour before he’d scheduled his crew to be at the theater. Mourning the half hour of sleep he’d now lost out on, not to mention the great dream he’d been having—Mia ravaging his body for her own pleasure—he reached for the phone. “Holbrook.”
“Houston, we have a problem.”
It was Mia, and despite her attempt at levity, he could hear the stress in her voice. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
She let out a shaky breath. “The crane came to move the statues into place. That’s the good news.”
“And the bad news?”
“It dropped one of the statues through the catwalk.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No, thank God. But the catwalk—”
“We’ll fix it.” He was getting dressed as he spoke. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Jake, it’s a mess. The show is tomorrow night. We still need rehearsal time. I don’t see how you can—”
“It’ll be fixed,” he promised, shoving his feet into his boots and looking around for his keys. “The show’ll be fine.”
Mia didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat had been blocked by the big ball of stress wedged there. Beach, she reminded herself. After this show that might now not happen, she was going to the beach….
“Mia? It’s going to be okay. I promise you.”
She’d woken him up, she could hear the huskiness of sleep in his voice. If she hadn’t been panicked, she might have had a lust attack. “You haven’t seen it.” Her chest was tight, too tight for air. “God, you have to see it. The wood fractured, the supports just snapped. The whole thing looks like a wrecking ball was dropped on it.”
“Are you breathing? Because you don’t sound like you’re breathing.”
“I’m breathing,” she gasped, letting out a rush of air and inhaling a new gulp of it. “Now.”
“Okay, good. Keep doing that. I’m on my way.”
Just the sound of him, calm and in charge and sure of himself, made her want to set her head on his shoulder.
“Mia? You hear me? I’ll be there in no time.”
Startlingly close to tears, she just nodded like an idiot, as if he could see her. She heard his truck door shut and realized he was literally on his way to her, and she found her voice. “Now I’m going to really owe you.”
“Hold that thought,” he said.
SHE DID HOLD THAT THOUGHT, simply because she knew how he’d like to collect on what she “owed” him. It made her knees wobble, and her heart race, and other things go damp, and she really couldn’t deal with that right now on top of her fashion show disaster.
So instead she concentrated on the here and now. Getting down to the wire, and the buzz and tension and highly charged atmosphere around her reflected that. Walking to center stage, she stared down at the gaping hole in the catwalk.
The statue was a goner, splintered into a million pieces across the catwalk and beneath the hole it’d created in the catwalk itself.
And though the hole was rather large and nearly bisected the thing, she thought if she closed one eye and looked at it sideways, maybe it wasn’t so bad.
Although maybe it was. She didn’t know for sure, and wouldn’t until Jake arrived. Compartmentalizing, she went to work on the things she had control over. Pulling out her cell phone, she began the sea of calls to find out if she could get another statue delivered today.
She couldn’t.
A master of improvisation and thinking on her feet, Mia simply pulled out a pad of paper and began working with the stage and catwalk design, shuffling props around on the sheet here and there, getting a feel for it in her mind so that by tonight, when staff showed up to prepare for the rehearsals, things would look as if she’d planned to have only three statues all along.
Then suddenly she felt warm in the cool morning. Her body sort of tingled, and she knew without looking that Jake had arrived. Turning, she watched him walk down the center aisle, his eyes on her. He wore his usual uniform of Levi’s, faded and well-worn, torn in both knees. His light blue polo shirt fit snug to his shoulders and was draped just over the measuring tape clipped at his hip. He was talking on his cell about some blueprints and how he’d be free to start next week, and then spouted a bunch more construction talk as he came toward her, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Gotta go,” he said when he got close, and snapping his phone shut, he slid it into his pocket.
“Thanks for coming—”
“It’s my job. But first—” He hopped up onto the stage, slipped his hands into her hair and held her face. “You okay?”
There hadn’t been a lot of coddling in her life. In fact, there’d been none, certainly not from her mother, and later not from any others, mostly because she hadn’t let anyone do such a thing. Fiercely independent and proud of it, she hadn’t needed it.
But a very small part of her, a very weak part, liked the way he took care of her. Liked it so much she wanted to grab on and never let go.
And she might have, if it hadn’t been for the knowledge that this, what they shared right now, could all go away if she took that last step. They’d sleep together, and it’d be great but eventually she’d lose him, and she thought maybe that would hurt worse than anything she’d ever experienced.
So instead of falling apart and putting her head to his chest, she sucked it up and smiled. “I’m okay. Let me show you, and we’ll take it from there.”
They turned and looked at the catwalk. The lift operator stood on the other side of it, looking more than a little sheepish.
“Had a problem?” Jake asked him.
The lift operator took off his baseball cap and scratched his head. “If you want a piece of my ass, better chew it now, because once my boss gets here there won’t be anything left for you.”
“Hey, shit happens.” Jake gingerly stepped out onto the catwalk, balancing on the edge, looking down into the gaping hole. He leaped past it, then crouched low and peered both inside and beneath. He got down on his knees, then stretched out on his belly, sticking his head into the hole itself. Muttering something to himself, he then pulled himself all the way in and vanished.
From her perch on the stage Mia couldn’t see him, and lifted a foot to step onto the catwalk.
“Don’t,” came his voice from somewhere beneath her, and she set her foot back down.
Her cell was going off and so was her pager, and she knew the frantic messages were piling up. What would the rehearsal schedule be? When would the designers be allowed onstage with their models? Would they be delayed? Would the show still be possible?
Tightening her mouth she ignored the ringing and waited for Jake. It occurred
to her how she’d never been a waiting sort of person, how Jane always joked that on the day God had handed out patience she’d skipped standing in that line because she hadn’t had time for it.
But the oddest thing was that she didn’t mind waiting for Jake because deep down she knew he’d come through.
He’d always come through.
Even if you slept with him, said a small voice. Even after you slept with him, he’d always come through.
Before she could contemplate the implications of that thought, Jake’s hands appeared in the hole at her feet. Then his head.
And then he was pulling himself up without effort, and straightening to a stand right next to her. He pulled out his pad and began to scribble on it.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Calculating the materials we need.”
“So—”
“Shh for a sec.” He kept scribbling. Then he whipped out his cell phone and dialed, and rattled off a list of materials. “I need an a.m. delivery. Yes, this a.m.” He listened. “Great. Thanks.” When he shut the cell, he hopped off the stage and again hunkered beneath the splintered catwalk.
She couldn’t be “shhed” another second. “Jake, damn it. How bad is it?”
“Well, it’s not fatal.”
“I’m vibrating.” She showed him her cell and pager. “With designers wanting to know about rehearsals tomorrow. Delayed? Canceled? What?”
“Give me until tomorrow noon.”
She hugged her cell and pager to her chest, not even realizing it until he covered her hands with one of his. She knew he could feel her heart pounding, but wondered if he knew her nipples had hardened at the feel of his fingers so close.
“Okay?” he asked. “You can have half a day for rehearsals.”
Relief flooded her, and she could barely speak. “Oh my God, Jake. I was so worried.”
Under the guise of tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he touched her with his other hand, too. His eyes heated, and her body kicked up her inner temperature to match. She wore a suit dress today, the color of coral and trimmed in white. She’d known it was flattering and sexy, and had worn it on purpose to see that flare in his gaze.
And she didn’t want to face why she’d done such a thing. “Are you going to ever collect your favor?” she heard herself whisper.
“Oh, yeah.” His crew had arrived behind them. They were climbing onto the stage, milling around. But Jake’s eyes never left hers. “Tonight.”
The noise level around them increased.
Or maybe that was the roaring of her heart. “T-tonight?”
“Game night. My place.”
She let out a shaky breath. Games. That she could handle.
If he didn’t smile at her.
If he didn’t touch or kiss her.
“New game,” he said, and her relief backed up in her throat. “Truth or dare.”
She stared at him. “Truth or dare? Why?”
“Why not?”
Yeah, right, Mia. Why not? She eyed him carefully but though he had a small smile playing around his lips, he was giving nothing away. “Sounds…juvenile.”
“Only if you’re afraid of honesty for some reason. But that’s silly, right? You’ve always been honest with me.”
She swallowed hard. “Right.” Except about the not liking sex thing.
“Great.” He smiled. “Could you back up and give us some room here? We have a lot to do.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“See you tonight,” he said, and for the rest of the day she thought about little else.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BY THAT EVENING, Jake and his crew had a handle on the catwalk repair.
Mia and her staff were on the stage arranging the props. The long lengths of black velvet, the potted greenery, the three remaining statues were all going to be good backdrops for the models and the lines of lingerie. Jake knew VLL had a huge success on their hands; it was in the hum of excitement hovering over the place as the cameras and lights were set up.
He loved watching Mia in her element, standing center stage, in the middle of the organized chaos, ruling her world. Her face was so animated, the pleasure and passion for what she was doing contagious, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Not to mention what the fitted cut of her suit dress did for her hot little bod, which was practically quivering with the exhilaration of the moment. Every time he looked at her everything within him reacted, not just physically, but far deeper than that.
Moving close, breaking into the inner circle of the crazy goings-on and the people around her, he leaned into her, pressing his mouth to her ear. God, she smelled amazing, like sweet woman and hot summer nights and he took a moment to inhale her. “We’re done for the night,” he murmured. “I’ll see you later.”
Slowly she turned her head, and he didn’t miss the way she closed her eyes as the movement had his lips brushing along her jaw. “It might be awhile before I come.”
He stroked a thumb over her full lower lip. “I don’t care. Just come.”
She sucked in a breath at the double entendre, but someone else pressed close with questions, and he backed away to let her work, convinced that his suspicions were correct, whether she ever put words to it or not.
She did want him, and he wanted to know why she was fighting it, pretending she didn’t.
Tonight he’d find out once and for all.
TWO HOURS LATER came the knock on Jake’s door. He opened it to a tired but beautiful-looking Mia.
“If you have food, I’ll love you forever,” she said.
If only it was that easy. He led her to the kitchen, where he had her favorite waiting—pizza. He grabbed two plates from the cupboard and met her at the table.
“Thank you,” she said, and moaned at her first bite, a throaty, gusty sound that made him hard. She took another quick bite and grabbed his hand, tugging him close. He’d have sworn she’d been about to hug him, just fling her arms around him and pull him close, but she contained herself and just chewed. “My stomach thanks you. Every part of me thanks you.”
“Good?” he asked, smiling at her exuberant eating.
“Oh my God, are you kidding? Your crust is to die for.” She licked some cheese off her finger. “What do you think it says about us that you do all the cooking and I do all the eating?”
His eyes were locked on her mouth, and the finger in it. “That I’m smart enough to know that the way to your heart is through your stomach?”
She laughed, and didn’t talk again until she’d inhaled three full slices.
“You know, that’s one of the things I like most about you,” he said, watching her.
She stopped sucking on her fingers. “That I’m a slob?”
“That you don’t hold back. That you give life your all. Except in one area, that is.”
Her gaze went wary.
“Don’t stop eating.”
“I’m full.”
Liar, he thought fondly. What she was, was scared.
“Why truth or dare?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It’s just a game.”
She didn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah.” Her sudden tension was palpable. She must have a few truths she was worried about. “Nervous?” he asked.
“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly.
Uh-huh. “Normally I don’t aim to make you uncomfortable.” He handed her another beer. “But tonight—” he clinked his bottle to hers in a toast “—I think I like you a little nervous.”
“I’m not.”
He smiled.
“I’m not,” she said again and brushed the crumbs off her hands, her expression that of a prisoner heading toward the guillotine. “Let’s just do it. Play the damn game.”
“Truth or dare,” he said softly.
She stared at him for a long moment. “Right here?”
“Where else?”
“Um…”
“Truth or dare? Mia?”
&n
bsp; “Dare.”
“Hmm.” He pushed back his plate and considered his options. “I dare you to kiss me.”
Cocking her head, she smiled in relief. “That’s all? Just a kiss?”
He had to wonder what the hell she’d been expecting. “Just a kiss.”
Standing up, she straightened her pretty coral suit dress, the one that made her skin glow and showed off all her curves. The one with eight buttons from breast to thigh, the eight buttons he’d been mentally unbuttoning all day.
“Easy enough,” she said more to herself than to him, and bending toward him, put her hands on the armrests of his chair.
Her hair fell forward, brushing his jaw. Eyes open on his, she leaned closer still. Her dress pulled away from her, enough that he could see the tops of her breasts, just the curves really.
Then he felt the brush of her lips on his cheek. One blink and she was straightening away from him, a little smile on her mouth as she sat back down and picked up her beer.
“Hey,” he said. “I meant on my mouth.”
“You didn’t specifically say,” she said primly.
Okay, he thought with a laugh. Game on.
“Truth or dare?” she asked him.
“Truth.”
She blinked at that and he wondered what she’d have asked him to do. He got hard at the thought.
“Tell me something you’ve never told another person,” she said after a moment.
“A secret?”
She nodded.
He lifted his beer, more to give himself a moment than anything else, watching her carefully. Right for the jugular, his Mia. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, something personal. Tell me why you’re not crazy about fast food.”
“Because I grew up on fast food. Actually, make that scraps.”
“Your mother…”
“Worked nights in housekeeping at a downtown hotel.”
“And then she slept all day,” Mia said. “Never had the energy for kids.”
“Right.”
“So it’s a comfort thing for you,” she said softly.
“I guess.”
“Oh, Jake.”
“I just ruined the whole tough-guy image by admitting that, didn’t I.”
Velvet, Leather & Lace: A Man's Gotta DoCalling the ShotsBaring It All Page 24
