by Ines Saint
“Are you kidding? This is perfect,” she answered before turning to look at him. “What time do you wake up?” she asked.
“Six. I go for a jog before breakfast. Although it’s late, I may wake up later than usual.”
“I want to practice at least six hours, in increments, is that okay with you? Or is too much?”
“I don’t mind at all,” he answered before wishing her good night and leaving. The thought of listening to Keila play all weekend while he worked soothed his stressed soul.
• • •
Early the next morning, Keila awoke to the sound of a door closing. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she walked over to the window, a feeling of contentment washing over her. Looking out toward the river, she found it was easy to push away any lingering doubts she had about accepting Jake’s invitation.
It was an unusually glorious November day. The sun seemed to be dancing on the tree tops and on the other side of the river, the long grass along its bank swayed in the wind.
After showering and changing, Keila decided to forego her usual regimen of scales, arpeggios, and etudes, and just play what her heart desired. The more she played, the more relaxed she became.
A little over an hour later, she walked out into the hallway and came face to face with a towel-clad Jake. Right away, she glimpsed a solid six pack and sturdy shoulders she just might have to hold on to. Though she’d never been one to go nutty over the sight of a male body, she had a sudden onset of every depraved-female symptom in the book. Her mouth went dry, her heart began to beat abnormally, and heat rushed to her face.
“It’s an old house and there are no bathrooms within the rooms,” he explained after a full thirty seconds of her ogling. And damn it if he wasn’t smiling like the devil himself.
“No master suite, huh? Let’s have some breakfast.” Out of all her jumbled thoughts, those were the fragmented pieces that came out of her mouth.
After a mostly silent breakfast where a freshly showered Jake sat next to her, smelling soapy and oh-so-masculine, he gave her a very detailed tour of the house.
Keila would never have guessed that restoring an old home could be such a sensuous project. His hands smoothed over the projects he’d labored on; talking about ripping things apart, hammering things, rubbing stuff down, buffing...it all had her breathing hard. She couldn’t stop looking at his hands.
A while later, unable to concentrate on her playing and about ready to jump out of her skin because she couldn’t take her mind off Jake, she went down to the first floor library to read Persuasion, remembering she’d seen a leather-bound copy there during her tortuous tour. She figured she could learn a thing or two about formulating proper female thoughts from Anne Elliot, the epitome of delicate, modest female.
But then delicate, modest Anne Elliot never came upon a smoking hot, shirtless Captain Wentworth in a library. If she had, Keila was sure her thoughts would have scandalized the gentry.
A half-naked Jake fixing the built-in shelves quickly sent Keila and all her immodest thoughts up the stairs to do what she should have been doing all morning; pouring her frustrations into her music. For a full hour, she played the most impassioned pieces she could find with such feverish energy she was breathless half the time. She ended her vigorous session with Ysaye Ballade and Bach Chaconne.
Sighing and fully relaxed, she felt as if she should be having a smoke, even though she’d never smoked in her life.
When she came down for lunch, she saw Jake had already fixed them turkey ham, turkey bacon, tomato and lettuce sandwiches. “I figured you worked up an appetite,” he said. “That was some frenzied playing up there.”
“It was not frenzied, it was spirited.”
“Whatever you say,” Jake shrugged, the mischievous glint in his clear blue eyes getting to her. It didn’t seem like she was having the same effect on him that he was having on her and he was behaving like a cocky SOB. She wanted to wipe the satisfaction from his demeanor.
“So, is Tyrone seeing anyone?” Keila asked; eyes innocent, tone neutral.
A long silence ensued. “Not that I know of, but I’m pretty sure he has the hots for your sister. Why do you ask?”
“I think I look like my sister, don’t you?” she asked, ignoring his question.
He looked up and gave her a good, long look. “I’m not sure. I always see her on TV, looking fine, well dressed, and tailored to a T. Right now, wearing those old jeans and a Cubs baseball shirt, you don’t really look anything alike.”
“My first boyfriend gave this to me and he still thinks I look sexy in it,” she said without thinking.
Jake gave her a slow smile, “Right. And you mentioned Robbie was your first boyfriend. Given the little fact that he’s not into women, I’m not sure he has a handle on what really looks sexy on you.”
Damn her big mouth. Her evil plan throttled, Keila couldn’t finish her sandwich. Resigned, she wrapped her sandwich up for later, thanked Jake for lunch, and went out to explore the river.
It was hard to stay in a bad mood with such a lavish landscape surrounding her. She went out onto the tiny pier, dipped her hands into the cold water and instantly withdrew them. She threw a few pebbles out before lying down, closing her eyes, feeling the cold breeze and taking in the earthy scents around her.
• • •
Jake sat down next to Keila. “Hey. Sorry about that crack about Robbie.”
She didn’t open her eyes. “I guess it’s not your fault my love life is amusing,” she sighed.
He lay down next to her. “And I’m sorry I said your shirt isn’t sexy, it’s actually the most seductive thing I’ve ever seen,” he continued, only half-kidding. The bulky material outlined nothing and left too much to the imagination; he couldn’t stop wondering what hid underneath. Keila laughed wholeheartedly, and the sound filled his heart in a way nothing had in a long time.
“And those jeans...” he let his voice trail off suggestively.
“What about them?” she asked, and though he was no longer looking at her, he could tell she was smiling. The truth was her figure-hugging jeans had been driving him up a wall all morning. He couldn’t find enough things to do with his hands in order to keep them off her. “Those jeans are second only to a pair of hot pink panties I once saw.”
Keila swatted him and he laughed, saying, “It’s true, there’s nothing sexier than showing a little skin.” Still not looking at her, he reached toward her knee where he’d seen a slight tear. She bolted upright, giggling and pushing his hand away. “Ticklish much?” he asked, opening an eye.
“Much,” she smiled, the sun shining through a few gray clouds behind her, her eyes sparkling. He remembered the first time he saw her, felt a tightening in his chest, and closed his eyes.
A few drops of rain came down, and Keila sighed. “I wish I could stay out here in the rain.”
“Then stay.” He reached out, remembering she’d also walked away from him that very first day over a little rain.
“I can’t risk getting sick, my health insurance sucks,” she sighed.
And it bothered him that she would bring up something so mundane and behave so logically when he was remembering how empty he’d felt when she’d walked away from him. “A little rain won’t do you any harm,” he said, feeling another moment between them slipping away. “I’ll take you to the hospital if you sneeze,” he teased.
“Easy for you to say, you can afford a hospital visit. I can’t,” Keila explained, getting up. And out of nowhere she added, “And it’s mostly your party’s fault I can’t afford it.”
“What?” Jake looked at Keila, now remembering each time he’d wondered if she was crazy.
“Your party wouldn’t let people like me have a public option,” she shrugged, not looking at him. That’s when Jake realized what she was doing. She was purposefully picking a fight to push him away, and, as usual, going straight for his jugular by using politics as her weapon of choice. Did she feel nothing for him?
<
br /> “You want to do this again? Now?” When she wouldn’t look at him he said, “Fine, Keila, let’s have it your way. Let’s argue every time we get too close and let’s tax the hell out of everyone and build a huge commune with a free hospital so all you liberal hippies can spend your days dancing around naked in the rain without any worries.”
The rain was beginning to sprinkle down a little faster, and Jake glared at Keila. But Keila, surprised by his outburst, looked up at him, all wet lashes and bright eyes, and laughed, her expression softening. “Fine by me, I’ll have a grand old time, playing the fiddle while the naked hippies dance. The problem is we’d have to send you away, Jake.”
“Why?” Jake took a step toward her, oblivious to the rain and his anger of just seconds before, aware only of Keila’s laughing eyes. He reached out and curled a wet strand of her hair around his finger.
“You wouldn’t make a very good flower child, what with all your suits and boring ties,” she solemnly answered.
Jake slipped the hand that was playing with her hair to the back of her neck. Her breathing became shallower and her eyes took on a hazy quality. “Well, you’d make a great flower child,” he said before lowering his mouth to hers.
But before he could kiss her, she panicked, and breathlessly reminded him, “You said you wouldn’t kiss me.”
So with much effort and great disappointment, Jake pulled away. Holding his hands up in defeat, he took two steps back, deciding he’d be the one walking away this time.
• • •
Keila’s intense disappointment over not giving in to the kiss was now greater than any fear. She hesitated only a moment before leaping into his arms. Grabbing onto his shirt, she said, “Okay, I’m sorry, I know you think I’m crazy, but please just kiss me anyway.”
Jake looked into her eyes a long burning moment and said “You are crazy,” before gently lowering his lips to nip at her neck and the slope between her neck and ear.
Keila shivered, but cold and wet as they both were, Jake’s body radiated warmth. She pushed up to him, pressing her body against his, her lips and breath just hovering over Jake’s now, savoring the intensity of every sensation coursing between them. She brushed her lips against his, and then nipped at his lower lip, wanting every dizzying feeling to last. He was torturing her by not kissing her on the lips.
Her reaction to him heightened to a point where she felt a craving she’d never felt before. Jake lowered his hands to her waist, pulled her toward him, and plunged into her mouth with a deep possessiveness that left her feverish and faint.
When Keila came up for air and strength, Jake swiftly gathered her into his arms and carried her inside to an old, worn couch where they hungrily kissed, touched, and explored.
She couldn’t remember when it was that it stopped raining, and when it was that darkness began to fall because she was only aware of Jake’s body beside hers, his breath, and lips. It was a long time before anything else mattered.
Finally, when they could no longer ignore hunger pangs, they prepared a late Thanksgiving lasagna dinner together, Keila barely able to cook while Jake distracted her with his hands and mouth. They shared a plate on an old recliner, Keila feeling oddly snug and at home on Jake’s lap.
• • •
“What do you want to do now? Do you want to watch some TV? One of the CSI shows is probably on tonight.” Jake said when they finished eating. Keila put her head on his shoulder and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so peaceful and content.
“Ugh. I hate those shows. The good guys always win.”
“I thought you of all people would like that.”
“Well, that’s not how it is in real life and it gets to me. I really can’t stand to watch any of those shows,” she replied, a hard edge to her voice.
This was about her father, Jake instantly understood. He propped her chin up, looked into her eyes and kissed her once, softly.
Keila sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overreact. I know it’s just a show.”
“I get it,” Jake said, and meant it.
Keila was quiet for a while. Her thoughts had clearly gone elsewhere. When she finally spoke, it seemed as if she’d come to a conclusion. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop being angry about what happened to my dad.”
“I’d be angry too,” Jake said softly, running his hand along her hair.
“At least I’m not angry at my dad anymore. I went through this phase where I was so mad at him for choosing to be a policeman … ” Her voice, tinged with guilt, trailed off and she was thoughtful again.
“Did they ever catch whoever did it?” he gently asked.
“He was killed in the cross-fire, so at least he isn’t running around free. I don’t think any of us could have gotten over that. But I wish he could’ve rotted away in prison instead, you know? It feels like instant death wasn’t enough of a punishment.”
“You’re against capital punishment, then?” he asked, genuinely interested in the point of view of someone who’d lost her father to violence.
“Of course I’m against it, like I said, I think losing your freedom is a fate worse than death. But I’ll bet you’re all for it. We’ll probably never see eye-to-eye on anything,” she remarked.
Jake kissed her. “How about we agree that you’ll always be on the opposite side of where I stand?”
“Sounds good to me.” She laid her head on his shoulder again and asked, “Speaking of sides, why do you really want to be mayor?”
“Because Chicago is the greatest city in the world.”
“That’s not a real answer! I know plenty of people who feel the same way and not one of them would ever think of running for mayor.”
Jake looked at her. “Fine. I don’t know. I believe in it, I guess, the way I believe in very few things. To me, it lives and breathes and never dies. It’s always changing, adapting, and surviving. Ever since I can remember I’ve been coming up with ideas to help it continue its journey.” He stopped and picked at a loose thread on Keila’s jeans. “And it’s always been about the people, you know? Past and present. Chicago was built on the backs of people who believed those who came after them would have the opportunity to get an education and find work to provide them with a good life. I want to make sure everyone has that opportunity, knows it, and understands the rest is up to them.” He looked up at her now, and her eyes were so bright and clear that he knew she believed him. It made him want to kiss her, as deeply as ever, and he moved his hand to the back of her neck to do just that. But before her lips touched his, she said, “That’s what you should always say. You should open yourself up to the people you want to help the way you open up to me … well, the way you open up to me sometimes.”
Jake looked at her again, surprised at her last words. Had he been opening up to her without even realizing it? But she put her hands around his neck, pulling him in for the kiss he’d started, and he forgot to care.
• • •
A long time after their late supper, Keila was backed up against the door to her room, Jake’s hands and mouth making her feel breathless and just a little bit desperate and unfulfilled. Jake seemed to notice because he broke away and said, “I don’t think I have any restraint left in me, and I don’t want this to lead somewhere you’ll regret.” Taking a deep breath he added, “Maybe we should just say goodnight.”
“You’ve shown restraint?”
Jake’s eyes flashed with so much heat and promise that Keila wasn’t sure she could take it. She pushed him away, effectively dismissing him. “Good night, Jake. Now, goodbye,” she said.
He laughed and some of the tension melted away. “Okay, I’ll leave. Just give me one more good night kiss. A little one.”
She sighed in mock exasperation and gave him an unsatisfactory peck on the cheek. “There. Good night.”
He took her hands in his, and kissed each of her palms before turning to leave.
But the moment she felt his roughened palms she hesita
ted, holding on to his hands, and thinking about how they revealed a different side to him. Without thinking, she brought them up to her lips and kissed each of his palms, too.
He looked down at her and she looked up at him. The tension was back.
Hooking a finger in the front of her jeans, he pulled her closer. Her breath hitched. He picked her up, not breaking eye contact, and set her down on her bed. Soon, he was sliding her sweater up over her head. The moment she felt the cool air on her skin she backed away.
• • •
Before they could go further, Keila pulled away once more, fear alive in her eyes. But she didn’t go very far, she just lay on her side, looking at him with wide, apprehensive eyes. Though he was all wound up inside, he didn’t want to pressure her. He mimicked her position, and they just gazed at each other for a while. He began tracing a finger down her arm, and smiled when he saw goose bumps immediately appear.
“Do you think maybe we just have great physical chemistry but we’re too different to really get along?” she asked. He watched the swell of her breasts as she breathed in and out. His mouth went dry and he could barely think. Aching, he looked away and tried to remember what she’d asked.
“Just because we think differently, doesn’t mean we don’t get along. I think both our hearts are in the right place. Yours just bleeds too much.” He smiled and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “I like how deeply you feel things, Keila. And I’m fascinated by how quickly you go from one emotion to another.”
“Are you calling me emotional again?”
“Let’s just say I never have to guess what you’re feeling,” he answered, before more thoughtfully adding, “And if you hadn’t acted on your feelings, we would’ve missed out on this weekend.” The thought of missing out on Keila and everything they’d been experiencing disturbed him. He pulled her close, wound his arms around her, and softly kissed her forehead, fearful she’d try to send him away again. Right now, he needed her.
