That Guy

by Kim Jones

  I shiver when the air whips around my wet skin as he carries me out of the bathroom. I burrow deeper into him and he responds by tightening his grip. He stops walking. I feel his shoulder flex beneath my head as me reaches for something.

  I moan against his neck as heat surrounds me. The towel is soft and warm and feels perfect against my achy, overly sensitive skin. I might not have just come from a session in a playroom, or been flogged or belted or shackled or clamped, but I’m pretty sure what I’m feeling is similar to the after effects of subspace.

  He dries me like I’m his.

  Like he has every right to wipe away the water from some places, and gently pat dry those that are much more tender.

  Like he knows the weight of my hair. And what it takes to rid the water from my ringlets.

  Like I’m his treasure to touch. To kiss. To call beautiful.

  Like I was meant to wear the T-shirt he slips over my head—his T-shirt.

  Like his bed was made just for me.

  His body molded to perfectly fold around mine.

  His lips created to worship my temple.

  And then sometime later. Maybe minutes, maybe hours, he speaks words to me I’m not meant to hear. They’re meant to fall on deaf ears. They’re meant to be said to a woman who is asleep. But they’re said in a whispered tone laced with such conviction and sincerity, that even if I couldn’t hear it with my ears, I’d hear it in my soul. Because that’s where I feel him most. Where I know him best. And his words are delivered in true Jake Swagger form.

  “For fuck’s sake, Penelope Hart…you’re making me fall in love with you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You do realize that’s thirty-two flights of fucking stairs, right?” Jake’s voice echoes through the empty stairwell as he leans on the wall, dressed in jeans and a Henley, with one perfect eyebrow—that he swears he doesn’t wax—arched in question.

  “I do. Which is why we’re leaving thirty minutes early. So either get to stepping, or be an asshole and take the elevator. But if it gets stuck, don’t expect me to save you.” I start down the stairs alone.

  Before I hit the first landing, I hear his loud sigh followed by his heavy footsteps behind me. “Fine. And when you give out halfway there, because you will, don’t expect me to carry your ass the rest of the way.”

  “You’ll carry me, if I ask you to.”

  “No the fuck I won’t.”

  I throw a look at him over my shoulder, surprised to see he’s only two steps behind me. “Yes, you will.”

  “Penelope…” His growl is a warning.

  To prove my point, I pretend to stumble. With lightning reflexes, he reaches out to steady me. “Watch it, baby.”

  Where’s that growl at now?

  I want to smirk, but I’m too busy melting on the inside. Just like I’ve been melting for the past two days.

  Ever since the elevator crisis, Jake has been overly cautious. Treating me like a precious gem. Doting on me. Waiting on me hand and foot. I’m not sure if it’s because I scared him, or because he’s falling in love with me—his words. Not mine.

  He doesn’t know that I heard him that night. I have no intention of telling him. But even if he hadn’t said it, I’d have known by the way he treated me.

  After the incident, I’d slept nearly the entire day. When I woke, it was dark out. Jake was still in bed with me—wrapped around me as if he feared I’d take off without him knowing. He’d woken the moment I stirred. Kissed my head. Asked how I was feeling. Made me dinner and brought it to me.

  The next morning, I woke up alone in bed. A feeling of sadness and loneliness washed over me. It quickly faded when I found him in the chair across the room. Typing away on his laptop. Dressed in gym shorts and nothing else. His hair slicked with sweat from his morning workout.

  I went to him. Needing his comfort like I needed to breathe. When I crawled from bed, he folded me in his arms. And he held me. Rubbed my back. Then carried me to the shower. The fact that he waited to shower until I woke up wasn’t lost on me. And, for some reason, I’d cried at that—my tears disguised by the spray of water.

  We spent the day watching T.V. He even let me choose the movie. I, being the hopeless romantic cliché that I am, chose The Notebook. I cried during all of the sweeter scenes. Jake rolled his eyes. But he never complained.

  Well…except for the part where the hero asks the heroine over and over and over, “What do you want?”

  Jake had grunted his signature, “For fuck’s sake,” and shook his head.

  Later that evening, he spent some time in his office. And he didn’t seem the least bit bothered when I joined him. I sat across from his desk and read while he worked.

  Cam showed up at some point and even then Jake didn’t dismiss me. He simply tucked a blanket around my naked legs—I’d worn nothing but his T-shirts since he first dressed me in one—kissed my hair and let me stay while they worked. Cam looked at us like we were crazy. But something in Jake’s gaze kept him from making one of his usual jabs.

  By the time we went to bed last night, I was over the trauma. I felt like me—a very loved, very wanted, me. Falling asleep in Jake’s arms was better than fucking him. And I couldn’t imagine what it would be like when I went home and had to sleep alone. Or who might warm Jake’s bed when I wasn’t there to do it. The thought was so unsettling, I refused to dwell any longer. I was going to keep the faith—still am.

  Jake loves me.

  I mean, how can he not?

  And with love comes happily ever after. Hearts and flowers and Pop Rocks and river dancing every day.

  I come to another door and the big sign labeled 16 above it makes me groan. “Jake…” I whine, huffing and puffing dramatically as I lean my back against the door. “I’m tired.”

  “Tough shit.”

  “Carry me.”

  “Hell no.” He steps around me and pushes through the door.

  “Come on,” I beg, following behind him. “Consider it your daily workout.”

  “I’ve already done my morning workout, Penelope. While you sat on the weight bench and watched me.”

  True. He’d left me a note by the alarm clock that blared in my ear at six freaking thirty this morning, telling me he was in his gym. Curious, because until that moment, I didn’t even know he had a gym, I went looking for it.

  It looked like a smaller version of the YMCA. Minus the scent of feet. With a view of Chicago. It even had three flat screen T.V.’s and a refrigerator. But it was the sight of Jake all hot and sweaty and fine as hell that forced me to sit to keep my knees from buckling.

  “If I had known we were going to take the stairs, I might’ve forgone the six mile, morning run.”

  “Did you really think I’d get back in that death trap?”

  He doesn’t even blink. “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s just…I don’t like using the word stupid, but that’s just stupid.”

  “Insult me if you want, but do it while you walk or else we’re going to be late.”

  “Ugh. Fine.” To distract myself from the million miles we have to go, I take a quick selfie, send it to Emily and imagine her reaction when she sees that I’m wearing Chanel—again. The oversized, cream colored sweater stops just above my knees. I’m also wearing some super thick, double knit brown leggings. And a pair of brown knee boots that are insulated. Oh, and they’re made by Louis Vuitton.

  She’s going to be so jealous.

  The idea gives me a boost of energy and I’m not even winded when we finally reach the lobby. Alfred is there to greet us with a smile and an apology for what happened with the elevator. I give him a hug because I’m a hugger. He returns it and I grin when I feel Jake’s eyes on us. Before he can say anything though, his phone rings.

  Ross ushers us to the car and even winks at me before he shuts the door. Jake doesn’t notice. He’s too busy talking about numbers and percentages and boring shit. So I play Toy Blast while he works the entire ride to th
e airstrip where a plane waits for us.

  I was expecting something that looked like a crop duster. This damn thing looks like a mini Air Force One. There are couches. Captain’s chairs that recline. A bedroom. Shower. Bathroom. Bar. A flight attendant who is too damn pretty to be smiling at Jake like that.

  Layla, as her nametag reads, smooths her hands over her neatly pressed dress that’s entirely too short. I look at Jake to see if he’s checking out her legs. He’s looking at me—his phone still glued to his ear. An amused smirk on his lips.

  When she notices him on the phone, she turns to me. “May I get you anything, Miss Sims?”

  My eyes roll.

  Jake sputters a laugh and quickly ends his call.

  Layla looks confused.

  “My name is Penelope.”

  “My apologies, Miss Penelope.” She looks contrite. But I’m too annoyed to care.

  “It’s just Penelope,” I snap.

  “Of course, Penelope. Can I get you anything?”

  “We’ll both have a vodka. Make hers a double.”

  Layla nods and quickly disappears. I move to the seat farthest from him.

  “Penelope…” he breathes, humor evident in his voice. “Don’t be upset. It was an honest mistake.”

  “I’m not upset.” Liar.

  I fumble with my seatbelt that is way fancier than a normal airplane seatbelt. I’m so focused on figuring it out, I don’t notice he’s left his seat until he’s standing in front of me. He brushes my hands away and fastens my seatbelt himself.

  “Hey…,” he says and tilts my chin up with his fingers. “I’m sorry, baby. Truly.”

  “Yeah? Well you don’t look very sorry.”

  He does a better job of containing his smile. “You’re nervous. And now I’ve upset you. I’ll make it up to you later. I promise.”

  “Have you flown a lot of women on this plane?” I bristle at my own question.

  He, of course, grins. “None as pretty as you.”

  “That Guy would’ve flown me on a jet he hadn’t fucked any other woman on. He would say it was because I deserved something more. To him, I was worth more than all of them. He would’ve burned this plane to the ground and just bought another one.”

  “You are definitely worth more than any other woman I’ve flown on this plane. But you’re not worth more than sixty million dollars, baby.”

  I’m river dancing on the inside because I’m worth more and prettier than the others. And Jake Swagger is worth a lot. On the outside, I look unimpressed as I glance around at the cabin and all its ridiculous luxury. “You paid sixty million dollars for this?”

  He grins. “You’re such an asshole.”

  Jake grabs the drinks Layla left for us and hands one to me. I throw it back—realizing a little late that it was a mistake. He pats my back until my choking fit passes, then returns to his seat.

  I snap a selfie and send it to Emily before I settle back in my chair and let the warmth from the alcohol swim through me. It’s still too early in the morning for me. I’m tired. And before we leave the ground, I feel myself drifting—smiling at Emily’s signature, middle finger emoji response.

  Still jealous.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Did you Bill Cosby me?”

  I try to jerk my wrist free of Jake’s hand but he doesn’t let me go. He just looks up at me from beneath his lashes as he continues to kiss my fingers. Nip the tips of them with his teeth. Make me melt into a pile of goo on the backseat of this fancy car that’s being driven by someone I don’t even know.

  “What?”

  “Did you drug me?”

  “No, Penelope. I didn’t drug you.”

  “Then explain how I managed to sleep so hard the entire flight?”

  He shrugs. “I guess you were tired.”

  “I wasn’t that tired.”

  “Then I guess you have a low tolerance for alcohol. Which, now that I think about it, you do have a very low tolerance for liquor. I should’ve considered that. Forgive me?”

  I pretend to be annoyed and glare at him. “How can you expect me to forgive you when you just keep fucking up? This is the second time you’ve apologized to me today. I’m starting to see a pattern. You know, this is how all relationships that end with the man killing the woman, start. With him constantly being mean, then apologizing and expecting to be forgiven immediately.”

  He smiles against my fingers. “So you think we’re in a relationship?”

  I snort. “Um. No. Duh. Geeze. Whatever.”

  Fuck!

  “I’m teasing you, gorgeous. I didn’t know a double shot of vodka would knock you out completely. If I had, I promise I would’ve used it long before now.”

  I smack his arm with the back of my hand. He grins and I can’t help but grin myself. “Well, don’t let it happen again.”

  “Noted.”

  “Good. Now feed me.”

  He leans over and gives me a kiss that I feel in my toes. Then, smiles and winks and says in his best southern drawl, “Yes, ma’am.”

  The diner Jake took me to might’ve looked like something straight off the set of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but the food was the best I’ve ever eaten. And I’ve never been more thankful for stretchy pants than I am in this moment.

  “Can we take a nap now?” I ask, yawning loudly as I rub my stomach.

  Jake smirks. “No. We’re meeting Jim and his daughters at the plant where they build the irrigation system.”

  “Why?” I frown, realizing I know very little about this trip. He asked me to go, I said yes. The end.

  I’m so easy.

  “Because I haven’t seen it yet. And his employees are now my employees. So I’d like to meet them.”

  I yawn again. “But I’m so tired….”

  “I’d take you back to the hotel so you could sleep if I could, gorgeous. But I have a full agenda today. And the Cantons like you. This will go much smoother if you’re there.” He sweeps my hair off my face and I rub my cheek on his thigh like a cat.

  “To hell with the Cantons. I’d let you put it in my butt if you took me back to the hotel.”

  A throat clears from the front of the car and I stiffen. Jake dips his head and drops his voice. I know what he’s going to say before he says it. “This car doesn’t come equipped with a privacy partition, sweetheart. So you may want to keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.”

  I bolt upright in the seat and meet the eyes of the driver in the rearview mirror. All the blood in my body rushes to my face. “I’m so sorry.”

  The driver, professional as ever, focuses his attention back on the road. “No apology necessary, Miss.” He swallows hard and shifts with unease before addressing Jake. “Mr. Swagger?” He pauses to clear his throat—his unease obvious. “Are we sticking to the schedule?”

  Jake doesn’t even look up—his concentration on his phone. “Yes. We need to be at the manufacturing plant by three.”

  The driver nods and mutters a, “Yes sir.”

  And though Jake seems oblivious, I don’t miss the driver’s smirk when I mumble a comeback.

  “Wasn’t gonna let you put it in my butt, anyway.”

  “I appreciate each of you and what you’ve done for this company. I look forward to a future with you. To working alongside you as together, we introduce the world to the greatest change the agriculture community has seen since the tractor. Thank you.”

  And the crowd cheers.

  I’d bore you with all the other bullshit he said, but there’s really nothing exciting about a fucking sprinkler system. I don’t care how you spin it. I mean, sure these people were engaged—hanging on Jake’s every word. But they know shit about farming that I don’t. And he really does look good standing up there all handsome and powerful, trying to be casual in his jeans and shirt as if he doesn’t run the world.

  I wonder if Jake is part of the Illuminati….

  Amber nudges me with her shoulder and smiles. “They loved him.”<
br />
  I look back up to where Jake is shaking hands with everyone. “Yeah. It’s easy to love him.”

  “I think I might love him.”

  “Couldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “So do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Love him?”

  I nod slowly. “I think I do.”

  She cuts her eyes at me. “Think? Girl you better know. Because there is no doubt that he’s in love with you.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Um. I am. The way he looks at you? Smiles at you? Touches you? Either you’re blind or just really stupid if you don’t see it. The two of you are like something out of a romance novel. You’re the heroine and he’s…I’d say hero, but that doesn’t do him justice.”

  I stare at Jake from across the room. As if he can sense my gaze, he looks up—his eyes immediately meeting mine. Like he knew where I was all along. I give him a small wave and feel all the muscles in my back relax when he winks at me.

  “You’re right, Amber. He’s more than a hero.”

  “So what do you call the man who is just…everything?”

  “I used to call him That Guy.”

  “That Guy…oh, that’s good. So what do you call him now?”

  “I’m thinking something along the lines of future baby daddy. Love of my life. Reason for existence. Soulmate….” I purse my lips and tilt my head as I study him. “You think that’s too extreme?”

  At that moment, Jake picks up a baby.

  I don’t even know where the baby came from.

  Didn’t even know one was here.

  But he has a baby.

  In his arms.

  And he…

  Have mercy.

  He kisses the baby.

  Amber’s dreamy sigh matches my own. “Extreme? Do I think it’s extreme to want a guy like that to be your soulmate?” From the corner of my eye, I see her shake her head. “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

  “I think I’m going to tell him I love him.”