The look she slid him had heat pooling straight to his groin. It was a mixture of embarrassment, annoyance, and—if he wasn’t mistaken—curiosity. “My sex life isn’t up for discussion.”
Jake absently licked a drop of ale off his bottom lip and grinned. “Maybe if it was better, you’d be up for talking about it.”
She rolled her eyes as she reached the porch landing, a canvas bag hung over her shoulders. “Maybe you should just mind your own business.”
He held up his hands. “Hey, I’m only offering advice.” Though he realized he wasn’t. Not in the least. He didn’t actually like the idea of Apple having sex with anyone. But damned if he knew why he felt that way.
Dregs waddled over to her then, snorting and sniffing up her skirt. She gave him a good, sound pat. “I know he’s old and a little smelly, but I’m glad you took him in after your grandfather passed,” she said. Her hand was already busy scratching the dog under his chins. “So, where do you want to do this?” she added, sounding nervous as she brought their conversation back around to business.
Jake looked her over, really taking in her attire for the first time. Normally she liked dresses, but tonight Apple was wearing a long green skirt with some Indian-style print on it and a plain white V-neck T-shirt. And she was wearing pink flip-flops with chunky argyle-print socks.
He raised a brow. “Interesting choice of footwear.”
“I get cold feet,” she retorted defensively.
“Clearly.”
She glanced at the river just through the stand of trees and said, “Is that the actual spot where you, Aidan, and Sean struck gold?”
He nodded and leaned back against the log cabin, crossing his arms. “It is, yeah.” He indicated the spot with a tip of his chin. “A sandbar goes out almost to the middle, and we were set up just past it. Well, Aidan and I were. Sean was actually on the sandbar when he found his obscenely large nugget.”
Her eyes were focused on the rushing water and went wide behind her glasses. “Is that the very same spot your ancestors panned when they first arrived?”
Jake flicked her a glance, his lips twitching. “Why yes, yes it is.”
Apple was so entranced with whatever she was imagining that she obviously didn’t realize what she’d done. Jake couldn’t keep from laughing. This was going to be so easy.
First question down.
“Socks off, woman. I don’t normally give a shit about that stuff, but you look like a fashion nightmare. So be gone with them.”
“What, why?” Sputtering, her mouth dropped open and floundered for a bit until, looking thoroughly discomfited, she finally managed to say, “Seriously, you’re calling that a question? That didn’t count! I wasn’t ready.”
Jake enjoyed the look of indignation on her face and gave a short laugh. “Sorry, but them’s the breaks, kid. Rules are rules. You ask a personal question, we strip. That’s the deal we made.”
Grumbling, Apple heaved a sigh and started toeing off her flip-flops while he got rid of his socks and put his boots back on. “Why are you so amused by all of this, Jake Stone?”
“Because it’s funny.”
She glared at him as she wiggled her sock-covered toes, trying to extricate the V-shaped cotton from between them. “To you, maybe. I’m actually trying to accomplish something important.”
So was he. Seeing Apple naked had been important to him ever since she’d begun haunting his dreams nightly. But he also knew if that were all he really wanted from her, he’d have gotten her in the buff years ago.
Begrudgingly he had to confess that there was more to his feelings toward Apple than he understood. They weren’t straightforward and simple, as much as he’d like them to be. Instead, just like the woman who spawned them, his feelings were confusing and complex. And that grated like hell on his nerves, because it was the exact opposite of the simplicity that he craved. If there was any justice in the world, seeing her naked would fix that. Or even better, make the feelings go away completely.
There was only one way to find out. “Let’s move on to the next question, shall we?” Pushing away from the cabin logs, Jake snagged a blue camp chair and took a seat.
Dregs was already sacked out and snoring like a champ in the waning afternoon sunshine. Warm day, soft breeze, quiet surroundings. For an old dog like him, that was about as good as it got. Shit, Jake thought that sounded pretty damned great too. Nothing complicated, nothing jarring him out of his serenity. Just him, nature, and good ol’ peace and quiet.
“You’re expecting us to do this interview here, outside?”
And Apple.
Damned if there wasn’t almost always Apple too.
At least tonight he got to call the shots. “Bet your derriere I do.” He caught her uneasy glance toward the forest that surrounded his place and laughed, shaking his head. “You really think someone’s going to see?”
The woman sniffed and began unfolding a green camp chair directly across from him, her back to the river. “Maybe I’m modest.”
That had been the right of it back in high school, for sure. But something about Apple made him wonder if that still held as true today as it had then. It was the way she moved sometimes, with such natural sensuality, that made him wonder what she was like behind closed doors.
“Do you ever wear your hair down?” he suddenly asked, more gruffly than he’d intended. Apple was across from him now, sitting with her notebook in her lap. Her hair was pulled up like always in a thick twisty bun thing, and she had on those enormous schoolmarm glasses. The graceful curve of her neck was displayed temptingly, backlit now as it was by the sunset. In fact, her whole head was in that light, the rays turning her hair into a golden halo.
A feeling began to stir in the pit of his stomach. That wasn’t as far off the truth as he’d like to admit. Apple had always embodied this light, gentle energy—like an angel’s. It had called to him in ways he’d never understood and had resented for being unable to resist the lure.
She’d captivated him.
Glancing up from whatever she was scribbling in her yellow notebook, she raised a brow, her blue eyes sharp. “If I answer your question do I get a freebie?”
Like he was giving up any chance of seeing Apple’s naked skin. Never. “Sure.”
She smiled. “Then maybe I do.”
Saucy wench.
“Boots off, Stone,” she added, sounding damned pleased with herself.
Amusement warmed his chest as he kicked his boots off and set them aside. “Tell me about this book thing of yours, then. Why write about Fortune?”
Dregs let out a huge snort, rolling onto his stomach with all four legs pointed out on each side. Then he resettled with his chin on the ground and closed his eyes, all of his loose fur wrinkling around his ugly mug. The comical underbite just made him that much more awesome.
Apple crossed her shapely legs, her argyle sock-covered foot tapping with nervous energy before she remembered and quickly pulled the garments off both feet, setting them aside. She slipped back into her flip-flops and chewed on the end of her pen before answering. “The reason is simple, really. I love where we live, Jake. I’m proud of it. And I’ve always wondered why no one has taken the time to compile our town’s history.” She smiled tightly. “Now, with your assistance, I get to be the first.”
“Great.” Jake held his bottle of ale out to Apple, offering her a drink. “I can get you one of your own if you want,” he added with a nod toward the kitchen.
She took his and drank deeply, handing it back when she was done. “No thanks, I’m good with this.”
He took it and immediately brought it to his own lips, a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach over the knowledge that her mouth had just been there. “Why do you love it here so much? I know why I do; I’m just curious what your reasons are. What’s so great about this place that it’s worth writing about and telling the whole world?”
Apple gave him a look like he was dumb. Just plain dumb. “You
really need me to explain it?”
No, he didn’t. Not really. He knew what made Fortune so special. It was just for some reason, now that the moment of truth had come, Jake found himself stalling like he was nervous or something. But that was ridiculous. Why would finally seeing Apple naked make him nervous?
“Fine, let’s get on with it then, shall we?”
Jake kicked his legs out in front of him and placed his bottle on his thigh. As he watched, Apple pulled a minirecorder from her backpack and fidgeted with her notebook, pushing her big-ass glasses back up her nose.
She clicked the tape recorder on and exhaled quickly. “September ninth, interview with Jake Stone regarding Fortune’s first settlers.” Her eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat before snapping open and zeroing in on him. “All right, let’s do this.”
His entire body went tense as something deep down inside him awakened, rearing its head with one simple message—one coherent thought—but it was enough to start him slow burning.
Finally.
Chapter Seven
IT WAS GO time.
Apple opened her mouth to ask the first question on the list she’d compiled earlier that afternoon, but the words refused to come out. Stumped, she swallowed and cleared her throat, then tried again. Still nothing.
Crap in a hand basket.
Jake cocked a brow and grinned wolfishly, making heat pool in her belly. “Problems, honey? A little frog in your throat perhaps?”
Torn between wanting to kick him really, really hard in the shins for teasing her and a sudden urge to give the man a dose of his own medicine by tormenting him, Apple decided to take charge. She was going to give him that dose. No way was she letting her embarrassment over what they were doing win and make her too timid to play the game. Jake didn’t intimidate her.
“Nope, I’m good. Just needed a few more minutes to organize my thoughts.” She acted like she was writing something in her notebook and glanced at him through her lashes. For a guy who claimed to be easygoing, he sure looked on edge. If he gripped his beer bottle any harder there was real risk of it shattering.
Why was he so tense?
“You look really uncomfortable.” The words just popped right out of her mouth before she could stop them. She inwardly groaned and cringed. Where was her freeze button? Or better yet, rewind?
Jake slowly rubbed the palm of his hand against the thigh of his jeans, his movements almost mechanical and stilted. “I’m not uncomfortable, Apple,” he said finally, quietly after a few awkward moments.
He couldn’t even look her in the eye when he said that. Not very convincing. But she was just going to keep her thoughts to herself and move on.
She opened her mouth to speak, intent on asking one of her interview questions. “You’re sure acting like it,” is what came out instead. Lovely.
His gaze whipped to her, dark and unreadable, and she began to squirm. “I’m comfortable okay. Just trust me.”
Something hot and dangerous flickered in his eyes at the words, and her core trembled in response. But she decided to seize the moment and gain the upper hand . . .
It was worth a shot at least, right?
Apple leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees, and bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing when his gaze instantly dropped to the deep-V neckline and her girls.
“How about we start again?” she asked, leaning forward a little more to scratch a pretend itch on her ankle, knowing the movements made her breasts push up against her knees and nearly pop out of her shirt.
His eyes flashed before lifting back up to meet hers. Now she had his attention.
“Let’s do,” he said.
“Awesome. Okay, I’ll start with my first question.” She sat back up and smiled pretty, preparing to take off her flip-flops. “What happened to Fortune’s first group of settlers back in 1869?”
His gaze held on her steady as he took a drink from his bottle, saying around the rim, “They died.”
“Are you going to be difficult every time I ask you a question?”
“It was an answer.”
Apple leveled a look at him. “It was a bullshit one, and you know it.”
He smirked, his dark gaze holding hers steady. “It’s still an answer.”
Slowly starting to fume as it became clear that Jake was going to be obstinate as usual, Apple bit her tongue to keep from making a snarky comment and closed her eyes for a second. A few long breaths and a count to ten had her refocused and goal oriented, so as she opened her eyes she pretended to bobble her pen and let it drop from her fingers, rolling to the wood plank porch.
Two could play his game. “Whoops!”
He cocked a brow. “Really?”
Yep. She smiled. “Silly me!”
With wide, innocent eyes, Apple leisurely bent forward to retrieve the Bic, stopping halfway down when he said, “Are you sure you want to do that, juicy fruit?”
She looked right at him and slowly bent the rest of the way down, biting back a laugh when her boobs pushed against her knees, plumping considerably. “Do what, exactly? I’m just retrieving my pen.” To prove her point, she held her hand up and waggled it at him, smiling brightly. “See?”
Jake laughed low in his chest and shook his head, his sun-streaked hair shimmering in the light coming in low from the horizon. “You seem to have forgotten something about tonight. Might not be a big deal.” He shrugged and took a pull from the bottle. Long and slow, just to drive her crazy. When he was done he set it on the porch and laced his fingers behind his head, his brown eyes lit with mischief. “Then again, it might be worth a reminder.”
“What should I be reminded about, exactly?”
He grinned, sly and with a whole lot of naughty, successfully emptying her mind of any coherent thought. She really despised how that look of his had the ability to make her insides quiver. Tipping her head to the side, Apple took him in—every last masculine, rugged inch. Why did he have to have such a sexy, muscular frame? It made staying focused way more difficult than she needed it to be.
“That I choose which clothes we take off, and you just asked another question. It’s not your flip-flops I’m after, juicy fruit.”
“What—” she started to say, but her voice broke. Clearing it, Apple tried again. “What answer? You didn’t answer anything.”
“Okay, that’s fair. Ask me another one.”
She straightened up, glancing quickly at the list of questions in her notebook. “Hmm, let’s try this: Where did your family originally come from?”
“You mean, where’d they emigrate from?”
“Yeah.”
Jake scratched the stubble on his chin, looking thoughtful. “If my memory’s right, they came over from northern England, up near the Scottish border. He was a bookbinder with a penchant for adventure, and she was the youngest daughter of a Scottish laird who decided a life in America with a bookmaker was better than a boring, normal aristocratic life.” He took a drink, and added, “They eloped to Gretna Green and spent their honeymoon on a ship.”
Her eyes went round. “Seriously?”
Jake nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”
“God, that’s such a cool story!” Excitement burst inside her. Oh, what a scintillating tidbit to add to her book! As fast as her pen would go, Apple retold the story to her notebook. “Thanks for telling me.”
She looked up from her notebook then to see Jake staring intently at her, and it stopped her cold. “What? Did I do something?”
“No.” He shook his head, his eyes dark and intense. “But you’re going to. So am I.”
Her heart began to pound, but she couldn’t break his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“That this is a game of strip questions.”
“And you just answered one,” she concluded a little breathlessly as the implication sunk in.
He nodded again. “Mmm-hmm.”
Damn it, and it’d been a good and honest answer too. There was no balking this time. The two o
f them were about to be short an item of clothing. And he got to choose.
It was unnerving. A little daring. Exciting.
Apple took a deep breath. “What would you like us to remove?” Unease skittered down her spine, and she straightened, moistening her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. Oh man. The sudden glint in his eyes told her this wasn’t good.
His brow shot up at that, and he chuckled softly, shifting a little in his seat. “I would like you to take off your bra.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t have one on!”
His lips twitched. “That’s because I’m a guy, honey. Don’t wear one.”
“Well, you’re taking off something, Jake Stone.” A quick assessment of his wardrobe showed her there weren’t many options for him. He was going to be naked as a jaybird in no time.
Too bad for him. “Lose the shirt, I’ll lose my bra.”
Jake grinned then. “With pleasure.”
Heat flared in the pit of her stomach as he reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off, revealing a body that was as hard and masculine as the rest of him. Muscles flexed with every little move he made, and the small patch of chest hair grabbed her attention like a homing beacon. So did the happy trail that ran down his flat, defined abdomen before it disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. Goodness, the man was sculpted bronze everywhere.
For a moment their gazes met, and Apple felt something inside her go soft and supple with need. With desire.
Her notebook slipped from her limp fingers and landed on the deck with a thump, startling her. “Shit!” Reacting quickly, Apple scooped it up and pressed it against her racing heart. “Sorry about that.”
Jake just took another long, slow pull of his beer. “Your turn, juicy fruit.”
She pulled a face—a very flushed face—and stalled because she realized the tactical error she’d made. Her shirt was old and thin. The minute she took off her bra, her nipples would be highly visible. Apple sighed, knowing that feeling shy was pointless.
Talking Dirty Page 8
