Stacey Joy Netzel Boxed Set

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  He pushed aside the question of who she’d called and tried again. “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned where you work.”

  “I’m currently unemployed.”

  Crap. “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “So…what do you do when you are employed?”

  “I’m a landscape architect.”

  She didn’t volunteer more and Manheim Steamroller’s classic Christmas compositions filled the conversation void. Desperate for something to say, Jake said, “You know, a friend of mine owns a landscaping business—”

  “I freelance, Jake. So, thanks, but no.”

  He frowned at her abrupt dismissal. “All I was going to say was—”

  “I don’t need your charity.”

  That stupid pride of hers again. “Damn it, Loral, it’s not charity,” he ground out. “You didn’t even let me finish. It’s obvious you need money, so what’s so bad—”

  “I am not discussing this with you,” she insisted in a frigid tone. “We don’t even really know each other.”

  Not true. Over the past year he learned she was honest, determined, smart, witty, and sexy. Then again, he realized, she’d never revealed anything too personal. Like who had she called? He shoved that nagging question aside. Fine, then, she had a point that they didn’t know each other that well, but that didn’t mean he had to accept that excuse as the final answer.

  “Then let’s change that. What would you like to talk about?”

  Silence was her only reply.

  “Loral?” He glanced at her stony profile and wondered if she was still holding a grudge over his earlier offer of a loan. He’d really put his foot in his mouth on that one, hadn’t he? And again with the job issue. Damn.

  “Can you give me a break, here? I feel like I’m tip-toeing through a mine field trying to find a safe subject—and I refuse to discuss the weather,” he warned.

  “Looks like we’re going to have a white Christmas after all.”

  Add frustratingly stubborn to the list.

  Jake clenched his hands on the steering wheel and counted to ten. Or tried. He made it to three before jabbing the preset button on the stereo for a rock station and turning up the volume. He didn’t say another word until he flipped his turn signal for the Greenfield Avenue exit thirty-four minutes later.

  Thirty-four excruciatingly long minutes of wondering if the connection between the two of them prior to this evening had been purely imagined on his part while her soft feminine scent filled the dark, intimate interior of his car.

  “Right or left off the exit?” he asked.

  Loral leaned forward to turn down the volume on Jon Bon Jovi’s Who Says You Can’t Go Home. “Right. Then at the second light, you’ll turn left, and one block further, another left. I’m in the apartment building at the end.”

  I, not we. That was encouraging if he could get past her cold front. And he’d decided he wasn’t giving up yet. Born and raised in the hearty Midwest, it took a lot to freeze him out.

  Plows hadn’t been through the area yet and a slight test of the brakes revealed a layer of ice under the five inches of snow that’d already fallen. The radio advised the storm didn’t look to let up anytime soon, either. The system had shifted south, adding another four inches to the six to eight that’d originally been forecasted.

  He didn’t relish the drive home, but for now, he shifted into a lower gear for the exit. Even with antilock brakes, his Lexus slid toward the bottom of the ramp. Muscles tensed and knotted until their forward progression halted inches before the intersection.

  Blowing out a relieved breath, he checked right, left, and then right again to find the street deserted. Shifting gears again, he prepared to ease into the right turn, but a flash of brights in the rearview mirror blinded him. He glanced into the left side mirror to see an SUV coming down the ramp way too fast for the road conditions. His heart lurched, sending a spike of adrenalin through his limbs, tightening his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “Hold on, this idiot’s not stopping.”

  Jake hit the gas to try to get out of the way, but the tires gained no traction on the snow-covered ice. The larger vehicle slammed into the back of his smaller car and shoved them across the intersection into the snow bank on the other side.

  They hit with a jolt, plowed through, and then slid down into the ditch. When they came to a rest just seconds later, Jake’s first concern was Loral.

  “Are you okay?”

  She brushed disheveled hair from her face, her eyes wide as she nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” Her concerned gaze swept over him. “You?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He glanced into the rearview mirror at the lights behind them. “I better check the other car—stay here.”

  Loral reached for her door handle the same time he reached for his.

  Alarm for her safety sharpened his voice. “Loral, please, stay here! Grab my phone out of my jacket in the back and if I’m not back in two minutes, call 911.”

  Forcing his door open as far as the snow allowed, he stepped out into the storm. As he fought to close it again to keep the heat in the car, the SUV’s tires spun in reverse, found traction, and backed away from the Lexus’s crumpled back end.

  Jake started forward to make sure the driver and any passengers were okay, but to his amazement, the vehicle shifted into drive and took off, fishtailing down the road. Fury quickly took over and he tried to run after it. The swirling snow obscured his view of the license plate and when he slipped on the steep slope in his dress shoes, he knew pursuit was useless.

  A frustrated growl was whipped away on the wind as he returned his attention to his wrecked car. Damn it. He’d paid it off last year, and after his mom got sick, had hoped with good care to have the vehicle last at least another three or four years. Even with insurance, this was the last thing he could afford right now. Muttering curses at their hit-and-run driver, he got back into the car and jerked the door shut.

  “They drove away?” Loral asked, her voice high with surprised indignation. “Without even checking on us?”

  “Stupid sonofabitch.” He took a deep breath to calm his anger and residual nerves. Shifting focus back to her, he reached over to cover her hand with his. “You are okay, right?”

  If she was hurt...

  Her warm hand gripped his cold fingers, squeezing with reassurance.

  “I’m fine.” She reached up with her right hand to wipe the fog off the window, staring in the direction the SUV had disappeared as she added, “Pissed as hell for you, but fine.”

  “Good.”

  He cleared his throat when the word croaked out. She shifted to face him, then dropped her gaze to their joined hands. Sensing she was about to withdraw again, Jake pulled away first.

  “I should call the cops, then a tow truck.”

  She nodded silently and handed over his phone. After he’d given the police all the relevant information he could, he assured them they didn’t require emergency services and hung up. Then he started calling the tow truck companies. By the fifth number, he sighed with defeat.

  “Besides the fact that there are literally dozens of calls ahead of us, there was a big accident out on I-10, so no one can get out here until maybe tomorrow. I’ll walk you home, and then see if I can get a taxi to pick me up from there.”

  He glimpsed a flicker of dismay in her expression before she said, “Um...didn’t you say your brother lives near here?”

  Getting Robert to put himself out on a clear night was a long shot, so he didn’t hold out any hope for tonight. Jake avoided Loral’s questioning gaze and explained briefly, “Taxi’s easier.”

  She frowned at his clipped tone. “Oh. Okay.”

  When he noticed her fingers fiddling with the button of her coat, something else occurred to him. Careful to keep disappointment from his tone, he said, “I’d like to think we’ve known each other long enough that you know I’d never hurt you, bu
t if you don’t want me at your place, I’ll just wait back here for the taxi.”

  Her gaze flew to his. “No, that’s not it at all—I swear. It’s just that...” She trailed off, gave a deep sigh, and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jake, please don’t take it personally, okay? Of course you can wait at my place.”

  He believed the sincere apology in her tone, but her words confused; told him there was much more to her hesitation. Before he could decide whether or not to push the issue, she held out her hand.

  “Can I use your phone? I want to call my mom so she doesn’t worry why I’m not home yet.”

  Her mom? Not some significant other she didn’t want him to meet at her place?

  After handing over the phone, he couldn’t help but confirm as she dialed. “That’s who you called earlier?”

  “Yeah.”

  Suddenly he loved her ‘love you’ at the end of the previous call. Relief brought a smile to his face but he quickly bit it back as he listened to her tell her mom the roads were really bad, so they were taking it slow and were almost home. He lifted a brow as she disconnected and passed the phone back.

  “I didn’t tell her about the accident because she worries too much,” she explained.

  Completely understandable. He grabbed his jacket from the backseat and stuffed his keys and wallet in the pocket before locking the doors out of habit. Loral had already exited and waited for him by the demolished bumper.

  “Ouch,” she commiserated.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry. If you hadn’t brought me—”

  “Don’t you dare,” he cut her off. “This is not your fault.”

  Renewed anger toward the driver burst forth. He would’ve kicked his tire to vent a little frustration, except a move like that in his dress shoes was sure to land him on his ass. The only way he wanted that was if Loral landed on top, but she already looked cold after just a minute back out in the storm. He’d keep his juvenile urges to himself for now.

  When they reached the street, a gust of wind blasted his face. Needle-like snowflakes stung his cheeks and he saw Loral hug herself as a shiver shook her shoulders.

  He extended his hand with his jacket. “Here, put this on.”

  Instead of taking it, she frowned up at him. “I’ve got a jacket. You put it on.”

  “That’s not a jack—”

  He broke off as she lifted her chin at a proud angle, eyes narrowed to a glare. Damn, he almost insulted her again by scoffing at her old coat. Then her teeth chattered and Jake squared his shoulders with determination. Screw her misguided pride.

  “Either you wear it and only one of us is cold, or we both freeze.”

  He dropped the leather in the snow and stalked down the street.

  Chapter Four

  Loral glared after Jake’s back. That attractive, disarming smile he’d reeled her in with every time she visited his shop disguised a bossy, stubborn jackass. She was tempted to leave the jacket right where he’d left it, but he’d stuffed his keys and wallet and phone in the pockets. Bet he didn’t remember that, did he?

  She scooped it out of the snow and shook it off. It was a beautiful jacket, broken in to the point that it was as soft as the leather seats in his car. Slipping her arms through the sleeves, she slid the zipper to her chin, inhaling fresh air and tempting essence of Jake. Before he got too far ahead, she hurried to catch up.

  He’d shoved his hands in the pockets of his black dress pants as he trudged along in his stylish, but slippery shoes with his shoulders hunched against the elements. His cheeks were red, and his hair that’d dried earlier in the car was windblown and full of snow again.

  All to bring her home, safe and sound.

  Guilt flicked at her conscience and drop-kicked her hurt pride out into left field. With her defenses on full alert for more reasons than one, she hadn’t been very nice to the guy who was now freezing so she could be warm.

  A quick glance in her direction lifted the corners of his lips. He didn’t bother to temper the clear triumph gleaming in his amber eyes.

  Forgiving thoughts ducked for cover as she added arrogant to bossy and stubborn. “This isn’t chivalry, you know, its stupidity.”

  Her annoyed tone only widened his grin. “It is?”

  “Yes.”

  He pulled a hand from his pocket and held it out. “Then give my jacket back.”

  “No.” She stuck her nose in the air. “That’s the difference between you and me.”

  He laughed, a full-bodied baritone that caught her unaware in its genuine humor. She slapped at his outstretched hand with a reluctant smile. Hand back in his pocket, he leaned in with his shoulder to give hers a good natured bump. She bumped back, adding force to compensate for his superior strength. A little too much force.

  Thrown off balance, Jake slipped in the snow, and with no traction on his shoes, he went down hard. His automatic grab for her arm brought her down on top of him. He grunted as her elbow landed in his taught stomach with her full weight on top.

  “Sorry.”

  But was she? Even through their clothes she could feel he was as fit as he appeared. The man ran an antique shop, for Pete’s sake! Where’d he get all these muscles from? Despite the storm whirling around them, she didn’t hurry to get up. She was nice and warm, after all.

  His chuckle was a little breathless as he dropped his head back in the snow. “Okay, fine, I give up. You can keep the jacket.”

  Jake’s humor called out to the person she’d been before life got so darn hard. His smile convinced her to throw caution to the wind and indulge in the not-so-serious. Grabbing a handful of snow, she moved up and leaned across his sweater-clad chest so she could see his face, and he could see the snow.

  “Really? You’re not even going to fight for it?” she teased.

  His gaze caught hers and didn’t waver. “I’m not cold anymore.”

  The words robbed her of breath more so than the wind. Melted snow trickled from her palm, along her wrist, and then dripped onto the side of his face. She dropped the snow off to the side and then reached to wipe the moisture away. Her chilled fingers lingered on the warm skin roughened by his day’s growth of whiskers.

  When she returned her gaze to Jake’s, the intensity of his gaze held her spellbound. She didn’t protest as he grasped the front of his leather jacket and pulled her closer, then closer still.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  She knew he was asking about more than their fall and didn’t hesitate with her answer. “Yes.”

  Dropping her gaze to his mouth, her smile faded with his. He’d given her plenty of time to stop but she wanted the inevitable.

  Mere inches separated them. Her pulse raced, loud in her ears. Did he hear it? Feel it like she felt his beneath the curve of her breast? When he lifted his head, his breath whispered across her lips. The space between them melted away faster than the snow in her hand.

  His lips were cool at first, but warmed as he explored her mouth. She held nothing back, countered each move he made with one of her own, because really, in her mind, this kiss had been a long time coming.

  When he tunneled his fingers through her hair, angling her head, she anticipated his next move and opened her mouth on his. He gave a low groan and swept his tongue inside to deepen the kiss.

  Everything else ceased to exist. The snow, the wind, the cold. All Loral registered was Jake’s lips, tongue, hands, and his hard, warm body beneath her. Her hair fell forward, sheltering their faces, keeping the elements at bay while she dueled with him for control and won, even though she suspected he let her. She wasn’t usually so aggressive, but something about this man brought out a side of her she hadn’t been fully aware of until now.

  The excitement was almost as intoxicating as Jake, especially since it’d been absent from her life over the past couple years. Not to mention she felt safe and protected with his arms banded around her. Secure in a way that swelled emotion in her chest and threatened the li
ttle bit of oxygen she managed between his kisses.

  A loud beeping noise pierced the private world they’d descended into. Sound association clicked in her head as it got louder and louder. Loral tore her mouth from Jake’s in time to see a snowplow bearing down on them. An arc of snow flew from its angled blade onto the sidewalk where they lay.

  She ducked and buried her face in the crook of Jake’s neck seconds before an avalanche of snow piled over them.

  God, he smells good.

  As the beeping receded, eventually fading in the muted silence of the falling snow, Loral felt Jake shaking beneath her. His soft laugh, genuine as before, sounded low, husky, and oh-so-sexy in her ear.

  “Talk about a cold shower,” he said into the curtain of her hair. “Now I’ll fight you for the jacket.”

  She grinned. Bracing a hand on either side of his shoulders, she pushed up to dislodge the snow that’d piled on her head and back, effectively shielding him. “Too late for that, buddy, but I can promise you a cup of hot coffee in about three blocks.”

  “Mm. Deal.”

  She stood and held out a hand to help him to his feet. He turned her around and brushed snow from her back before combing clumps from her hair. Then he took her hand in his, bowed, and gestured forward with his other arm.

  “Lead on, fair lady.”

  Holding back a laugh was impossible. Embarrassment over the heated kiss they’d just shared completely out of the question. But as they approached the block where she lived, reality hit as hard as the SUV had. She viewed her neighborhood—temporary though it was—as Jake must see it. Many of the street lamps were burned out and though some houses had Christmas lights, it couldn’t compare to the glitz of downtown.

  The apartment building at the end of the street was so old, no amount of improvements could ever hide its run-down age. What it needed most was a wrecking ball.

  Loral tried to cling to her dignity, tried to lift her chin and pretend she didn’t care as they entered the tiny foyer and started toward the dim stairwell. And she didn’t normally. She made no apologies to anyone, just rolled with the punches and did what she had to for her mother.