“They were mad. That was all. Besides, you two were always on time. And Carson. Well, he’s Carson.”
Jake shifted in his seat and stared at his plate. Okay, so they had waited up for him. In fact, the few times he’d ever seen his father’s cool, professional manner shatter happened to be those times he staggered home at dawn. Or the times he’d had to bail him out of his latest mess. Or how about the time he didn’t come home all weekend? Or the time he threw up then passed out in his mom’s prize roses during her garden party?
“Jake, they paid more attention to you than the rest of us combined.”
Jake shook his head in disbelief. “Bridget, you’re—”
“They could’ve shipped you off to a private school and saved themselves a ton of grief. They didn’t.” Brad motioned to the waiter. “Put everything on his check.”
“You have no idea how upset they were when you married whatever-her-name-was.” Bridget’s face twisted with disdain.
Jake held tight to his basic belief about his place in his family. Sometimes the old and comfortable is less painful than the new and uncomfortable. “I didn’t join you guys for lunch to be badgered.”
“Well, since when did that stop us?” His sister reached over and ruffled his hair. He hated that. She’d done it to him since he’d been a baby. “I think I might learn to tolerate Harlee. After all, Jill hates her.”
Oh, wonderful, back to that subject. It made perfect sense that Bridget had changed her attitude toward Harlee. His sister considered herself something of a champion for the underdog, plus she loved to be contrary.
“Too bad you missed the fireworks after you defended Harlee then stomped out.”
Jake frowned. “What happened?”
“All hell broke loose, when I thought Dad was going to kick the Bitch Queen out of the house for good. Then her old crone of a mother came up with some hair-brained excuse about Jill being off her medication.”
“What medication?”
“Who knows.”
“Mom bought it. Dad didn’t, but he kept his mouth shut. We finished the meal in relative peace and definite quiet.”
“I can’t believe they swallowed that.”
“Oh, yeah, so beware, baby brother. The wedding plans are still on. Mom and Old Crone have been planning this for years. After dinner, the three of them retired to the sitting room to look at wedding magazines.”
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“I promise, I’m not. I’m telling you, watch your back. That bitch has designs on you, and she’s not giving up without a fight.”
“Why, Bridget, I thought you and Jill were friends?” Brad rocked back in his chair and sipped the beer the waiter had just delivered.
“Are you kidding? I haven’t been able to stand her for years. She puts on this prude act, but it’s all an act. She’s a snake.”
“You got that right.” Brad added with a mouthful of food.
“Your manners suck. No wonder you can’t keep a woman.” Bridget shot her twin a look of revulsion then regarded Jake.
Bridget leaned forward conspiratorially. “I have it from a reliable source that she had Zantorini’s design and make a very expensive engagement ring. I understand you’re planning a June wedding.”
“Don’t tell me that.” Jake suppressed a shudder. As much as he’d tried, he couldn’t picture Jill as his wife. He understood where his parents were coming from. Love wasn’t a consideration. At least it hadn’t been with them when they married. They’d stayed together all these years because it worked on the surface and there was too much at stake to end it. A marriage between Jill and him would merge more wealth than the inhabitants of a small country could spend in several lifetimes. He’d also earn instant respect with his family.
“That explains why Mom called me earlier and strongly suggested I take Jill to dinner.”
“Ah, the noose tightens. Are you?” Bridget studied him with an intensity that made him wipe his mouth with his napkin. Was there food on his face?
“Hell no. I’m catching the ferry back to Orcas tonight instead.”
“Ah…” Brad winked at Bridget. “So you’re itching to get back to Goldie.”
“No, it’s not that. How about those Seahawks?”
The conversation switched to safer subjects, but Jake’s mind didn’t. Harlee flooded his thoughts like water through a broken dam. Better repair that thing, he warned himself.
* * * *
Never put all your eggs in one basket. That’s what Harlee’s mama had always said. It was probably the only decent advice her mother had ever given her. Of course, she’d been referring to men. Her mother always had one man in her bed and at least two waiting in the wings. Yet, Harlee thought it applied in this situation.
When Eva asked her to bartend and wait tables a few nights a week, Harlee jumped at the chance. Her new bartending job guaranteed security if things didn’t work out as Jake’s assistant. She’d never be in one man’s control again, especially a man who sexually attracted her.
Speaking of Jake, the coward had escaped to Seattle on business shortly after their little encounter on Sunday. Business. Yeah, right. She’d talked to him several times about work but hadn’t seen him. Now it was Friday. Maybe Jake had mended fences with Jill. Jake and Jill. How sweet. That’d look great on monogrammed towels in a swanky Lake Washington mansion.
Harlee picked up a couple beer glasses and put them with the rest of the dirty dishes. Grabbing a wet rag, she wiped the bar counter then checked on her customers.
Eva glided through the room, pausing to offer sage advice and predict a few futures. Harlee shook her head. She’d never met anyone like her.
Harlee flirted with a couple guys from Jake’s crew, certain she’d earn some good tips. She’d been propositioned by two of them, asked out by one of them, and had refused them all. It was hard to settle for number two, three, and four when you’ve been kissed by number one.
Speaking of the devil in blue jeans, her particular devil sauntered through the doorway and into the bar.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. Feeling wicked, she waved at him, removing his option to leave unless he wanted to look like a coward. Frowning, Jake waved back. He walked toward the bar then slid onto a barstool.
“Hey, big guy, what’ll you have?” She dared herself to meet his chocolate eyes. He gave her a dark look. Her traitorous heart started racing. Her knees threatened to buckle. The man was as sexy as hell when he was cantankerous.
“A Scotch on the rocks.”
How about me between the sheets? Blushing at her wicked thoughts, Harlee forced a cool smile. His eyes burned through her blouse right down to her skin. “No problem.” She turned her back to him to pour his drink then placed his drink on the counter with a thud.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His dark eyes grew darker; a storm brewed on the horizon. Did she detect irritation in his voice?
“I’m bartending. What do you think?”
“Isn’t one job enough?” He eyed her with suspicion. “You are still working for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, last time I looked. You can never have enough money.” She studied him pointedly. “You should know that.”
Jake bristled at her dig. “Yeah, that’s right. Money’s everything.”
“You live by that, don’t you?”
“It’s not the money but what it buys you.”
“I hate to break this to you, Jake, but money doesn’t buy respect.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I have respect from my colleagues, my employees, my…”
“How about your family?”
“You don’t know anything about my family.”
“I know enough. Remember me? The one who went to Thanksgiving dinner with you?” Harlee huffed and looked down her nose at him. “Excuse me, I have customers to serve.” As she flounced off, she felt his eyes drill into her back.
Harlee flitted to each table and took order
s. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t avoid Jake forever. She wished he’d picked a table instead of parking his cute ass, front and center, at her bar. Reluctantly, she returned to fill more drink orders, while Jake brooded at the end of the bar.
“You’re in a foul mood. How’d things go in Seattle?”
“Fine.”
She glanced at him as she prepared several drinks and placed them on a tray. His dark eyes infiltrated her defenses. She wanted those eyes locked with hers as he moved above her, inside her. Enticing her to feel things she’d never felt with another man. Had those eyes done that to Jill last night? Jealousy gripped her stomach at the thought of Jake in bed with Jill. Did he make her beg for more? Did she drive him out of his mind and over the edge?
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Unfortunately, her mouth didn’t listen. “So how’d it go with Jill? Did she forgive you for Thanksgiving?”
He scowled and his jaw tightened. Avoiding her eyes, he concentrated on his glass, moving it in lazy circles on the counter. “I didn’t see her.”
“You didn’t?”
“Nope.”
Harlee bit her lip to prevent her smug smile. Sheesh. She needed to stop thinking of this guy as her private property. He wasn’t, any more than she was his. But she wanted to be.
“Don’t look so pleased.”
Harlee’s face flamed. Was she that transparent that he read her expression? “I’m not pleased.”
“Sure you are. Typical female.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You figure it out.” He leaned forward and grabbed her hand, rubbing her palm in sensuous slow circles. Then he did the irresistible. He set the trap and snared her with his patented lady-killer smile, the one that had bad boy written all over it. She threw her good intentions in the dumpster and broadcast a silent dare to be kissed. His mouth moved closer and her eyes drifted shut. She felt his breath on her lips. So close to paradise. Until someone cleared her throat. With a start, they straightened and glared at their intruder.
Bridget slid onto the stool beside Jake. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Where’d you come from?” Jake’s eyes narrowed.
“The ferry, I believe.”
“You followed me.”
Bridget shrugged. “I came to see my horses, and I need the key to your house.”
“Here.” Jake thrust the key at her. “Now take it and leave.”
“Certainly.” Bridget smiled a knowing smile. “I’ll leave you alone to work out your karma.”
Jake rolled his eyes, and Harlee sighed. Forget karma, she needed to work something far more dangerous.
* * * *
Harlee sashayed to a table full of horny construction workers. Jake gripped the counter to keep himself on the barstool. She balanced the tray of drinks in one hand. Her tight T-shirt and low-rise jeans accentuated her body and accelerated his engine. He’d come here in to stop thinking about her. Instead, he found her slinking around in a suggestive outfit serving drinks. She’d been so toned down lately at work, and to see her looking like that again really irritated him.
His gut did gymnastics at the way those men eyed her. He wanted to pick up each one of those jerks and toss them out on their asses.
Jake counted to ten. Twenty. Thirty. Nothing helped. He threw back his head and downed the Scotch. The burning in his throat didn’t help. Shit. He had it bad. He’d denied it for weeks. But there it was, staring him in the face like an elephant in the bathtub. He couldn’t ignore this particular elephant anymore.
Maybe he should fire her. Yeah, get rid of a fantastic employee just so he could get a little, even better, a lot.
Grow up, Jake. That was the old, irresponsible Jake speaking. This Jake didn’t pull those stunts. This Jake worked hard to build his business with no help and plenty of discouragement from his family. This Jake didn’t have careless affairs with employees which led to sexual harassment lawsuits. This Jake needed a classy woman to be his hostess for social functions and to charm guests with her witty repartee.
Yeah, buddy, what makes you think Harlee couldn’t be that woman?
A slow burn smoldered within him as his plumber reached out and pinched her ass. Indignant, she slapped the plumber’s hand and continued on her way. Jake shot to his feet and brushed past her to stand over the unsuspecting perpetrator.
“Touch her again, and I’ll kick your ass all the way to Seattle.”
The young guy’s head jerked upward, and he gawked at Jake. “Huh?” Every eye at the table focused on the two men. Some watched with macho anticipation for a good fight, others cringed over the upcoming conflict.
“You heard me.” Jake leaned low, his voice a growl. “She works for me. I expect her to be treated with respect. Even when she’s not in the office.”
“Yeah? Or in your bed?”
Jake grabbed the guy by the collar and hauled him to his feet, shoving him against a nearby wall. “You’d better get your sorry butt out of my sight and off this island. Now.”
“Hey, man. I don’t want any trouble with you.” The plumber was big guy, but soft and fat, not fit and strong. When Jake loosened his grasp, the guy ducked under his arm and slinked away. “I’m outta here.”
With a threatening glance in the direction of his remaining crew, Jake stalked back to his seat at the bar. Harlee greeted him with her hands on her hips. “What did you do that for?”
“I didn’t like the way he was coming onto you.”
“Yeah, well, that’s none of your business. I handled him just fine.”
“Sure, I saw the way you handled him. The guy pinched your ass.”
She thrust her face within inches of his. “Maybe I liked it.”
Jake didn’t move, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. He met her challenge with a challenge in his own eyes. “I say you didn’t.”
Harlee cast a furtive glance toward the door. “He didn’t mean anything.”
Jake wasn’t so sure of that. He wanted her safe. Buried somewhere within his confused feelings lurked this uncontrollable urge to be her guard dog, whether she liked it or not. “When does the bar close down?”
“You’re not waiting for me.”
“What time do you close?” he repeated through gritted teeth.
She rolled her eyes. “Anywhere between eleven and midnight or so. Depends on when the customers leave. There’s no band tonight, and it’s a quiet crowd. Shouldn’t be too late.”
Jake consulted his watch. That gave him a couple hours of pure torture or ecstasy, depending on how a guy looked at his particular dilemma. Ecstasy watching that curvy body and torture knowing he couldn’t have her. At least, not according to the current set of rules he’d defined for his future. “I’ll drive you home.”
“That’s not necessary. I have a company truck, remember?”
He remembered. All too well. He’d loaned the truck to her because driving her home after work every night proved to be more temptation than he needed.
“Go home, Jake. You don’t need to be here.”
“Give me a beer.”
With a resigned shrug, she popped the top off a beer and handed it to him.
* * * *
Harlee pulled into her driveway and waved at Jake in the truck behind hers. He waved and drove past her into his own driveway. Sighing, she mounted the porch steps with weary resignation then froze.
The front door was ajar. Igor cowered on the front porch and stared at the doorway.
Harlee’s heart pounded louder in her chest than a jackhammer. Fear nipped at her with its icy jaws.
Someone was in her house.
Igor scurried behind her and peered around her leg. The hackles rose on his little hunched back. He growled a low guttural growl deep in his chest. Goose bumps prickled her skin.
She heard a slam. Her back door. Had he left or had someone else joined him? Or her?
Something snapped in the woods, outside the ring of light from the porch.
&nb
sp; Another snap sounded then a rustle in the bushes by her truck, effectively cutting off that escape route. She fished her cell out of her purse. It was dead.
Praying her intruder had left the house, she backed up to the door and spun around. Together, she and Igor scrambled inside. Harlee locked the door and slid the deadbolt in place. She ran to back door and locked it. With her rotten luck, she’d just locked herself inside with a serial killer.
Harlee pugged in the charger and waited impatiently for the phone to boot. She inhaled and exhaled deep calming breaths, except they didn’t calm. Invisible hands strangled her throat and stole the air from her lungs. She gasped and choked, close to panic.
Her eyes darted around the small room as she turned a slow circle. Usually so cheerful, every wall radiated with menace.
She listened. Nothing. Total silence in the house.
Swallowing her anxiety, she peered out the curtains. The dark night revealed none of its secrets.
Igor continued to growl at the door. A good sign, as he didn’t seem to be concerned with anything inside the house.
She gathered Igor in her arms and held him close. He licked her face. The stench of his dog breath restored her sanity, at least enough to draw shallow breaths. Something thumped on the front porch. Harlee’s heart leapt from her chest. “Come on, phone,” she begged it as the please wait symbol swirled with agonizing slowness. Finally the Home screen appeared. She punched the entry for Jake’s number on her Favorites list.
Jake, answer. Please, answer. After the third ring, his comforting voice echoed over the phone line.
“Hello?”
“Jake,” she whispered. “It’s Harlee. Someone was in my house. They ran out the back door when I got home. Now they’re outside.”
“What? Harlee, I can barely hear you.”
Another thump. This time on the back steps. The doorknob rattled.
“Oh, no. Jake, hurry please. They’re trying to get back in.”
Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed? Page 14
