Strawberry Kisses (A Rocky Harbor Novel Book 2)

by Marianne Rice

  “Babe. You are naked.”

  “People tend to be when they take a bath.”

  He growled on the other end and a flutter of goosebumps trailed down her arms. She sank as low as she could under the blanket of bubbles, wishing she was in bed so she wouldn’t have to keep her phone dry.

  “You’re killing me here.”

  Good. She enjoyed being wanted. Having the power to weaken a man’s senses so he could barely think straight. No, not any man’s, just Jake Morgan’s.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

  “I may need to drop in for a muffin or one of those cream-filled things again.”

  “Eclairs?”

  “Yeah. Those. Do you know what I want to do with that filling?”

  “Jake,” she warned. He ignored her and told her exactly what he had planned.

  ***

  The next day he surprised her at the back door of the kitchen with a kiss and a box of her eclairs he’d purchased up front tucked under his arm.

  “You didn’t have to buy them. I would have given you as many as you’d like.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, they’re going to be worth every penny.” He gave her another quick kiss and a mischievous smile before backing out the door.

  She enjoyed his surprise drop-in visits. They were usually short; he’d drive out of his way for a cup of coffee or a brownie and then head back to his work site. Jake wasn’t the type to have a coffee preference beyond black and strong without the frills, so his frequent trips to Coast & Roast were all an obvious ploy to see her.

  And she didn’t mind one bit. He wasn’t stopping by to check on her, he stopped by because he liked seeing her. And she liked seeing him too.

  Once home, she showered, shaved, lathered on lotion and packed a bag, knowing she’d cave and spend the night at his place after dinner. The overnight bag was like a big billboard with flashing neon lights saying, I’m sleeping over my boyfriend’s house and going to have sex. Not something she wanted to advertise to her mom. After saying goodbye to her mother, she grabbed the trifle from the fridge and rushed out the door before Jake could get out of the truck. She felt like a teenager going out with her boyfriend—sometimes the excitement of it was fun—however, she really wanted a place of her own.

  Not just so she could have noisy sleepovers with Jake, but it was the last piece of pride she needed to restore.

  “Hey beautiful. In a hurry? I would have come to the door. Said hi to your mom.”

  “She’s fine.” She didn’t want Doreen to look from Jake to Rachael, knowing they’d be sleeping together tonight. It was too mortifying.

  Jake’s playful smile turned serious. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Everything’s good. You can go now.” Her silver sandals tapped nervously on the floorboard as she held on tightly to the trifle resting between her legs.

  “Hey. What’s wrong?” Jake cupped her chin, turning her face toward him. “Rachael?”

  Puffing out her cheeks, she blew out a mouthful of air she didn’t realize she was holding in. “It’s embarrassing, okay?”

  “What is?”

  “You. Me.” She gestured between them and Jake dropped his hand, pulling back as if she’d slapped him.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. I never meant to embarrass you. I know my past is shady, but I’ve—”

  “Oh, no. Not you.” It crushed her to see the hurt flash across his face. Rachael turned in her seat, being careful not to tip the dessert. “I’d never be embarrassed of you.” She picked up his hand and held it over her heart.

  No matter how tough and badass Jake appeared, there was a hurting, sensitive chunk inside of him he liked to hide.

  “Then what?”

  “I told my mom I wouldn’t be home tonight. I packed a bag.” She nodded to the floor where her backpack sat on its side. “She knows we’re…sleeping together. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Blondie.” Jake’s lip lifted in a sly twist. He moved their joined hands to her neck and drew her towards him. “You’re so freaking adorable.”

  “You can’t kiss me now. We’ve been sitting out here too long and my mom is probably watching from the window.” Jake peeked over her shoulder and grinned. “Oh my God. She is, isn’t she?” Rachael shifted her body around so she faced front again. “Drive. Please. Let’s get out of here.”

  Jake barked out a laugh before starting the engine and pulling out of her driveway.

  ***

  Jake

  Damn if she wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Her blue sundress—as Caribbean blue as her eyes—made her look sweet and innocent, which she was. He noticed the extra time she put into smoothing her hair and putting on make-up. He understood her nerves and the thought she put into her first impression with his parents, not that she had anything to worry about.

  She’d met his mother briefly a while back at the coffee shop, but they hadn’t really had a chance to talk. Jake knew his mother would love her. Probably start talking babies and wedding dresses. For some odd reason that didn’t worry him either.

  Jake reached over and laced his fingers with Rachael’s. “Nervous?”

  She shook her head, though her body language said otherwise. In the short time he’d known her, he’d watched Rachael grow from a meek girl in his self-defense class to a woman who started her own business and had no problem telling Jake exactly what she wanted.

  He especially liked it when she bossed him around in bed. Not wanting to show up at his parents’ house with a hard on, he back-burnered that visual for the ride home. She had packed an overnight bag. He smiled and stroked her palm with his thumb.

  “Julia is very excited to see you again.”

  “Really? She remembers me?”

  “You’re the pretty lady at the coffee shop who makes the best chocolate brownies. They’re her favorite. I usually pick her up a few when I stop in.”

  “Jake, you should have told me. I would have brought her a batch.” Instead she’d made a strawberry trifle.

  “They’ll love what you made. And if not, we’ll bring the leftovers back to my place and I’ll serve it off of you. Like I did with those eclairs.” She’d been surprisingly responsive to his suggestions and even offered a few of her own.

  Damn. He needed to stop thinking that way. He flicked on his blinker and turned left onto his parents’ road. He grew up in a modest cape in the outskirts of Westbrook. Close enough where he could walk in any direction and find trouble, but far enough out of the way to avoid the daily grind of the city.

  His childhood home didn’t have much of a yard, but his parents kept it well landscaped, and his father bitched every few years about the repairs he secretly enjoyed doing. His mother left her teaching job when Julia was in her accident, while his father worked as many overtime shifts as he could at the paper mill to try to make ends meet. They’d never been well off, middle, probably lower-middle class, but he didn’t care about social status as a kid. None of his friends, if he could call them that, had much either. Not that it ever stopped any of them from getting what they wanted. If they saw something they’d like, they’d use the five-finger discount and take what they could get away with.

  Jake was the slickest of the group. He’d worked his way up from pocketing candy bars in the checkout aisle when he was twelve to shoving pocket-knives from Walmart down his pants before he could drive. Not a part of his past he was proud of. Hell, he wasn’t proud of anything from his past.

  Jake slowed his truck and parked at the curb in front of his house. Rachael’s palm was sweaty in his, her tapping foot ready to bust through his floorboard at any minute.

  “Don’t be nervous.”

  “Easy for you to say. Remind me to tell you the same when you come to one of my family dinners.”

  His chest filled with hope and excitement. “I look forward to it.”

  “Ha. You say that now. What you experienced with Graham was nothing. I’m waiting until Colton comes home, then
I’ll invite you over.”

  Rachael didn’t talk too much about him. All Jake knew was that Colton had been injured in Afghanistan and was holed up in some VA Hospital in the Midwest. Graham seemed decent, although he had alluded to Luke’s massive size, which would crush Jake into smithereens if he ever hurt Rachael.

  Which he never planned on doing.

  Jake hopped out of the truck and rounded the hood, opening the door for Rachael and taking first the strawberry dessert, then her hand.

  “I’ll carry it in. I need something to do with my hands.” She took the dish back and they walked the short distance to the front door.

  “I can come up with a few ideas for those hands—Mom. Hi.” He smiled innocently at his mother when she opened the door, and he kissed her on her cheek. “You remember Rachael.”

  “Of course I do. And I’m so glad you could come tonight. Come in.” She opened the door wider and Jake gestured for Rachael to go in first. Partly because his mother had taught him to be a gentleman—he just chose not to be one—but mostly because he wanted to check out Rachael’s butt.

  Unfortunately the dress billowed around her backside and her legs, but he’d get another good look later tonight. Jake closed the door behind him and looked around the living room for his sister.

  “Where’s Julia?” She didn’t often leave her seat in front of the television.

  “She wanted to help make supper.”

  Pride filled his chest at knowing his sister wanted to make a good impression on Rachael. Julia may not be able to communicate with words, but he knew her mind still functioned normally. Not being able to control her speech or her fine motor skills frustrated the hell out of her.

  When people treated her like a mentally challenged person, he could see the aggravation in her eyes and feel the attitude inside her wanting to come out. Julia used to have a wicked temper and Jake prayed every day that someday soon he’d witness it again.

  The doctors had no prognosis. She could be in this state for the rest of her life or she could regain nearly one hundred percent of what she lost. Only time would tell. His parents took a second mortgage out on the house to pay for therapy and Jake contributed a good chunk of his paycheck to her medical bills as well. One of the many reasons he still lived in an eighties throwback. He’d do anything for his sister, to pay for his wrongs.

  His father came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “Dad, this is Rachael. Rachael, my dad, Stan Morgan.”

  “Nice to meet you Mr. Morgan.” She held out a hand and his father ignored it, drawing her in for a hug.

  “Pretty girl like you should be calling me Stan. None of this mister business. I hope you like barbeque chicken. I made my special sauce. Been simmering on the stove all day.”

  “It smells amazing. Oh, I made dessert. I hope that’s okay.” She handed the glass dish to Jake’s mom, who had been eyeing it since they walked through the door.

  “This looks delicious. Maybe we should start with dessert.” His mother headed toward the kitchen and they followed.

  “That’s what I’m always telling her.”

  Rachael stopped, causing him to bump into her back, then turned around and scrunched her nose in a pissed off sort of way. Only it made her look ridiculously cute. Jake lightly tapped her butt, ushering her ahead of him.

  The kitchen wasn’t huge but it had an eat-in area that could comfortably fit six. Julia sat at the table with a head of lettuce, carefully tearing pieces into a bowl, the bracelet he bought with Rachael last month dangling from her wrist.

  “Julia is making the salad. It’s one of her specialties.” He knew his mother meant well but Jake’s twin-sense could tell his sister was offended. She didn’t have enough motor skills to handle a knife, and on a good day could carry an empty plate to the table. She’d dropped so many over the past few years that his mother stopped having her do any chores that could hurt herself or any more dishes.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Jake kissed the top of his sister’s head and whispered in her ear. “I’m still waiting for my lasagna. Mom’s been ruining it for years. Someday soon you’ll be cooking her under the table again.” She went still and looked up at him. He swore he saw a twinkle in her eyes but it could have been the reflection from the kitchen light.

  “You remember Rachael, right? She’s the girl who was yelling at me and tossed her coffee in my lap at Coast & Roast a few weeks ago.”

  “Nice way to reintroduce me, Jake.” Rachael gently pushed him out of the way and pulled out a chair next to his sister. “Your brother didn’t tell me how much you liked brownies until we were almost here. I’ll bring you a whole batch the next time I see you.”

  “I like…to…cook.”

  “Really?” Rachael grinned and tapped her finger to her lips. “You know, I’ve been twirling this idea around in my head for some time now. I’d like to offer a cooking class for adults who…who need a little extra help in the kitchen. Think you’d mind being a guinea pig one day? I could do a test run with you and you can give me your honest feedback. So far I’ve only done a class for kids. I’d like to do one with grown up food. Maybe some wine and appetizers.”

  Jake’s heart swelled. He hadn’t seen a smile on his sister’s face this big since before the accident.

  “An-d brow…nies.”

  Rachael cocked her eye. “Only if you promise not to share my brownie recipe with anyone else.”

  Julia nodded and handed Rachael some lettuce and said, “You…help…me.”

  “I’d love to. Let me wash my hands first.” Rachael scooted her chair back to get up. Jake kissed her nose and showed her to the bathroom. “I could have used the kitchen sink,” she said when they were out of earshot.

  “I know. But I really needed to do this.” He drew her in and crushed his lips against hers, breathing in her sweetness. He let her go before he got too carried away. They had all night to finish what he’d started.

  “Oh. Well then.”

  “Stop being so perfect or I’m going to lose the tiny bit of self-control I have.”

  “For a man who is trained in martial arts, you sure lack a lot of self-control.”

  “Babe.” Jake backed away and went into the kitchen before his parents came looking for them.

  “I like her, Jake.”

  “Me too, Mom.”

  When Rachael returned to the kitchen, Jake and his father were outside on the deck manning the grill, but he could see and hear the women inside through the screen door.

  “I love your hair. I always wished I had thick, dark hair like yours,” he heard Rachael say before she stood behind his sister and started playing with the long ponytail. “I didn’t have a sister until I was in my late teens. I always wanted one so I could play with her hair and she could play with mine. Do you like to do hair?”

  Julia used to put her hair in fancy braids while playing field hockey, but she didn’t have the motor skills to do much more than brush her hair, and even then she needed their mother to help.

  “Maybe after we eat you’ll let me do your hair?”

  “Yes.”

  “Julia and I used to fight all the time when she was little. She hated having me brush her hair. All I wanted was to put it in a ponytail so it would stay out of her food, but she insisted on wearing it down. It wasn’t until she hit middle school that she wanted to learn how to French braid. I never learned how, so she had to ask her friends to do it,” his mother said as she busied herself at the stove.

  Jake almost felt like an interloper listening in on the conversation between his three favorite women.

  “My mom taught me how to do it but I only learned on myself. I can try to French braid your hair if you’d like, Julia.”

  “Yes…please. French…braid.”

  Warmed by the scene inside, Jake turned his back on the women before he did something stupid like confess his undying love to Rachael.

  Chapter Ten

  Rachael

  Baking for Coast & Roas
t had been a perfect jumping off point, but Rachael wasn’t going to make ends meet by making muffins every morning and hosting the occasional birthday party. She had a few bookings, but even then, she was nickel and diming it.

  The weather was warm for so early in the morning. With the sun starting to rise in the horizon and a forecast in the low seventies for later, she opted to ride her bike to work, cruising through downtown and past the Rocky Harbor Inn. The newly hung Help Wanted sign in the front window caught her attention. Rachael kept peddling to the coffee shop and let herself in the back door, all the while thinking about the beautiful inn. After her morning baking was done, she checked her face in the mirror for any traces of flour and took down her messy bun, opting for a sleek ponytail instead.

  She’d worn gym shorts, tennis shoes, and a tank top to work today, hoping to get a little sun on her shoulders during her ride home. Not exactly job interview clothes. Still, she was curious as to what the job was. Rachael looked up the inn’s number on her phone and dialed. A woman answered on the third ring, sounding winded.

  “Rocky Harbor Inn.”

  “Hi, my name is Rachael Riley. I saw your Help Wanted sign and was wondering what the position was.”

  “I’m looking for a breakfast cook. The kitchen hasn’t been used in a while and needs some serious updating. I’m currently serving a simple continental breakfast to my guests but I’d like to offer more home-cooked food. I’m useless in the kitchen. Eventually I’d like to open for dinner on the weekends. Probably just during tourist season.”

  “That sounds perfect. Can I come by and fill out an application?”

  “Sure. If you’re available, this afternoon is a perfect time. I’m slow today and my son is at a friend’s house. Are you local?”

  “Actually, I’m just down the road. I do the baking for Coast & Roast.”

  “Oh, well then, if you’re the one responsible for adding ten pounds to my hips this summer, you’re hired. And fired. I’ve been buying your muffins and serving them at breakfast to my guests.”