To her chagrin, her boss seemed to recover quickly, just when she was enjoying seeing him on the defensive.
"Hey Sport, remember our oath," he reminded. "Most of our talk was guy stuff. So, it's confidential," he lied, barely managing to keep a straight face.
"Yeah, mom. It's class. . ." Alex turned to him, his expression confused. "What is it again?"
"Classified," Jake supplied the word with a smile.
"Yeah, mom. Classified. Like the army guys. So, I can't tell you about the hot babe."
"Uh-huh." She'd see about that.
***
It wasn't until much later in the day it occurred to Jen the information highway worked both ways. She began to wonder what family trivia Alex had spilled to her inquisitive boss. Alas, the sleep deficit her son had incurred during his hospital adventure finally caught up with him. He was safely tucked in bed for a long nap before they would pick up Megan at school. Her subtle questioning would have to wait. And subtle it would have to be. Alex's new favorite word was 'classified' and it seemed to apply to every blasted question she asked.
Left with a few hours to kill, she pondered her strategy to get Alex to talk while she carefully climbed the ladder. She'd been meaning to clean the gutters for weeks, but hadn't felt safe leaving the kids to their own devices while she was outside, fifteen feet up on a ladder.
"Good Lord, it's a wonder they haven't collapsed." Eying the sagging gutters with dismay, she steadied herself, before yanking rubber gloves from her back pocket. Her nose wrinkled at the scent of decaying leaves when she scooped her hands into the muck. "Yuck. Nice and soggy, too."
Wrestling the ladder around to the front, Jen was making good progress. She took pride in maintaining the little house herself, not that she had money to pay a professional anyway. The landlord had traded on rent when she'd agreed to a few maintenance chores on his house. But he'd certainly gotten the better deal when it came to the gutters.
She'd added a hammer to her belt and nails to her pockets for the next trip up the ladder. The gutters out front had to be reinforced now or they'd never make it through the winter. "A few nails and you'll be just fine."
Humming while she worked, Jen scooped muck and hammered nails as a pleasant breeze wafted through the trees. Her strength starting to fade, it soon became a burden to re-position the ladder every five minutes. Each time she moved it, the ladder felt heavier. Her arms, pleasantly sore before, now felt like cement. Consequently, she began stretching a little farther. First a few inches, then a foot, until she was latching a leg around the rung before she leaned out.
"Almost done." A few more trips up the ladder and the task would be complete.
***
"What are you doing here?" Lost in thought, Jake debated lame excuses for driving down Jen's street in the middle of a Friday afternoon. He was dropping by– uninvited. "What can you possibly hope to accomplish?" Sleep-deprived after his hospital adventure with Alex, he'd caught himself chuckling over the funny things the little guy said instead of focusing on the contracts on his desk.
Without Jen there, Specialty had felt distinctly quiet. Empty. He'd become used to her presence. Her quiet confidence. He liked the challenge of making her smile because when she finally did– it did strange things to his stomach.
"It's one of these," he muttered, scanning the well-manicured homes, searching for the yellow one before his mouth dropped open. "That can't be her."
His demented, flame-haired assistant was standing near the top rung of a lopsided ladder. She also appeared to be testing fate, stretching her center of gravity as far from the rickety ladder as possible. Jake nearly hit her mailbox when he swerved his truck to the curb. Throwing it into park, he jumped from the truck and started running.
"Jen- what the hell are you doing?" Forgetting for a moment that she was twelve feet up on a ladder, she startled at his shouted question.
"Huh?"
She might have been fine if he hadn't barked at her. But her twist to see who was shouting made her stretch too far. His brain snapped the images as the ladder tilted; her weight shifting as she lurched sideways, her hands flailing for the gutters when he heard the ladder crash to the ground.
Jerking his head up, he discovered Jen hanging by her fingers from the worn-out gutters. Fear torqued through him. "Don't move. I'll get the ladder back up. Hang on." Scrambling into the shrubs, he dove to retrieve it.
"Have you lost your mind?"
He was wondering that himself. "Are you trying to get hurt?"
"You shouldn't scare people on ladders."
Her squeak of pain doused him with guilt. Damn, it looked a lot higher from the ground. Especially when Jen was dangling by her fingers. "What's that noise?"
"God, Jake– hurry." She'd heard it, too. The creaking, tearing sound of a length of gutter giving way under her weight. "Jake– it's-"
He knew before her scream sliced through the air. Forgetting the ladder, he lunged through the shrubs to catch her as she hurtled toward him. He managed to grab her, but the impact of her fall knocked them both to the ground. Blocking her body with his, he heard the gutter crash down.
Dazed for a moment, Jake cautiously opened his eyes and felt wetness on his face. He reached up to touch his chin and his fingers came away brown. At least it wasn't blood, he thought with relief. "Jen? Are you all right?"
"Not with you on top of me."
He rolled away, wincing when his hands came into contact with more of the brown, squishy sludge. "Does anything hurt? I think I broke your fall."
"My pride mostly. Has anyone ever suggested you not shout at people on ladders?" Jenna sat up cautiously, then lifted a hand to wipe the muck from her face. "Ouch."
"Where are you hurt?" Concern flaring, he quickly sat up.
"Just my arms, from hanging up there. What took you so long?"
"I was trying to find the ladder." For some reason, Jen couldn't contain her laughter. She was covered from head to toe with slimy, decaying leaves. He stared at her, confused. Why wasn't she afraid of the near miss she'd just experienced? "What the hell were you thinking? You shouldn't be that high on a ladder without someone helping you." His exasperated sigh cut through her amusement while she fought to catch her breath. "Dammit, Jen– what's so funny?"
Taking a steadying breath, she tried to control her fit of giggles. "You," she admitted as she wiped her eyes. "You're sitting in a puddle, covered in smelly, wet leaves and you're still lecturing me."
He eyed his clothes with dismay. Jake suddenly felt cold in the wet, stained khakis. Giving her the once-over, he finally cracked a smile. He was so used to seeing Jen all buttoned up at work, that even with a straggly, wet ponytail and muddy sweatpants she looked great. "You don't look much better," he pointed out.
Rising to her feet, Jen surveyed the damage before trudging into the shrubs to retrieve the ladder. "Damn, I was almost finished." She glanced over her shoulder, still tugging on the tangled branches to release her ladder. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
Before he had time to summon a believable response, she raised another concern. "How much do you think it will cost to replace the gutter?"
"Go inside and clean up. I'll put your ladder away." Ignoring both questions, he reached into the shrubs, hauling the ladder from the brush. "Does this belong in the shed?"
Pausing on the top step, she nodded and opened the door. "Come inside after. You'll need to wash up. If Alex wasn't awake before all this commotion, he will be soon."
***
What was he doing here? Jake searched for the answer to that question while he hung the ladder on the row of pegs in the shed. And why were his hands still shaking in reaction to finding his assistant swinging from the gutter? It was funny, he admitted, now that she was safe. Why then, was he so angry?
Taking his time in the shed, he mulled the issue. At least he knew the answer to that one. "Where's her damn husband?" Why the hell was she climbing ladders while her son was in the house sleeping
off a head injury? And where was Rick when he should have been at the hospital?
Jake made it a rule never to delve into the personal lives of his employees. While he cared about his employees, he didn't necessarily want to know their problems. Several awkward experiences had taught him that becoming involved in personal issues was futile. He couldn't solve the problem for them, and too often, the employee was unwilling to take action to fix it. He hadn't wanted to find himself in the position of judging someone based on knowledge that had nothing to do with job performance.
"Jen isn't your business." But dammit, she was a smart, beautiful woman. She loved her kids to death. Why was she always alone? "Why is she on the roof cleaning her damn gutters?"
He wasn't blind. Alex had latched onto him at the hospital like an eager puppy, his obvious pleasure at male company speaking volumes about what the little guy wasn't getting from his dad. He was honest enough to admit he'd pumped Alex for information. What he didn't want to analyze was why. Jenna was his assistant. His married assistant. There could never be anything more.
Alex had been vague when asked about his father. And the answers he'd received only deepened his suspicions. They'd been playing with his cars on the hospital bed . . . Jake driving them up the handrails while Alex supplied the engine noise and crash sounds. He smiled over the memory. Until he remembered what Al had said out of the blue.
"Did your daddy yell at you a lot?"
Aware of the caution flag on the track, Jake proceeded carefully. "No, my dad is a very nice man. He yelled sometimes . . . if my brother and I did something wrong."
Alex raised serious eyes to his. "Like if you broke somethin'?"
He nodded. "One time we threw a football in the living room and smashed my mother's vase."
His nose wrinkled up. "Who cares about that?"
Jake laughed. "It was full of water and flowers."
"So, you made a big mess?"
"Yeah, Sport. We had to clean it all up. And we could never play football inside again. My dad made us apologize to our mom." Jake smiled at the memory. "And then it was okay."
"My daddy said Mommy's stupid. He called her bad words." Alex drove a car over the covers, crashing it between his knees. "Then she cried." He paused to make a screeching crash sound as a shiny police cruiser chased a dump truck down the length of the bed. "I think Mommy's smart. She takes good care of us . . ."
His gut hollowed out, the truth struck Jake like a blind-side punch. The bastard. Yet, the little guy's words didn't surprise him. He knew. He'd suspected something was off . . . Something that just didn't add up. Jen was so damned cautious. So closed off from everyone. Yet, one of the most capable women he'd ever met. "Your mom . . . is one of the smartest ladies I know." Despite knowing he was entering dangerous territory, Jake didn't care. "You should always be respectful of ladies, Sport."
"You mean be nice to them?"
"Yeah– good guys are polite. They don't say bad words to girls." He smiled over Alex's rapt attention. "And you should never say mean things to them."
"Even Megan?" His eyes had been aghast.
Despite his uneasiness, he'd laughed. "Especially your sister."
Later, when he'd asked whether Al missed his dad since he was gone all the time, the little boy's answer had saddened him.
"I used to miss him a lot. But . . . it's been a long time since I seen him."
He'd turned to Jake, with those serious, blue eyes that were so like Jen's, his voice matter of fact. "Sometimes I forget– like what he looks like. I mean, I got's a picture of him. But, sometimes I get mad. And then I don't look at it for awhile."
Alex' gaze was troubled as he turned away, almost as though he were ashamed. "Meggie 'members him more. I sorta feel bad . . . cuz I don't think about him. And I worry that Mommy will be mad at me. What would you do, Jake?"
What would you do, Jake? Hell if he knew. He'd been twenty-two when his parents' divorce was final. He'd felt betrayed. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like at age six. Why would Jen stick it out with a guy like Rick when she deserved so much more? Someone who would appreciate her. Someone who would realize he'd hit the jackpot finding her and the kids.
A stiff breeze blew the shed door open. It thumped against the wall, dispelling Jake's increasingly uncomfortable thoughts. Shivering in his wet clothes, he was grateful for the interruption. Leaving the shed, he secured the door before turning toward the house.
"I need to leave." Turning up the collar on his cold, wet jacket, he waved to Jen through the kitchen window, signaling his departure. For the first time, Jake experienced a moment of uncertainty. Walking into that cozy house, into the enveloping warmth he knew resided there, would be a colossal mistake. There wasn't any room in their relationship for gray areas. He had no business wondering about Jen– questioning her choices. Her private life had to remain separate. Quickening his pace to his truck, he jerked open the door. Wincing when his wet clothes hit the seat, he resolutely kept his gaze away from the glowing invitation of her house. When he pulled away from the curb, he made sure not to look back.
***
Alex had completely recovered by the end of the weekend. Jen was grateful to slide behind her desk Monday morning. It would be good to refocus on work. She'd spent too much time over the weekend wondering about her enigmatic boss and how much he'd done for her. It had only half-surprised her when a work crew appeared Saturday morning to replace the gutters on the front of the house. Refusing any form of payment, she'd been forced to be content feeding them lunch.
Acts of kindness, she'd learned, were typical of Jake. Over pizza and brownies with the field crew he'd sent, she learned her boss helped employees all the time. It was done quickly and quietly, with no outward acknowledgment from him.
Jen watched for him all morning, but when he finally appeared around eleven, he slipped into his office and closed the door. Glancing at the closed door, she chewed her lip in frustration. Her 'thank you' would have to wait.
An hour later, her growling stomach forced her to ponder lunch. She was reaching for her purse when a quiet voice caused her to glance up.
"Excuse me . . . are you Jenna? Mary said you were down this way."
"I am. How can I help you, ma'am?"
The older woman considered the question for a long moment before answering. "I was looking for my son, Jackson. I was in the neighborhood and thought he might want to have lunch. Is he in?"
"You're Mrs. Traynor?" Forgetting her purse, Jen stood to greet her. "I'm honored to meet you. I've met Mr. Traynor and he is quite charming."
"Please call me Mona."
Despite the warm smile Mrs. Traynor offered, Jen read the faint anxiety in the older woman's eyes and wondered at the source. She recognized many of Jake's features in the time-worn face, a face that was still quite stunning in middle age. Jake would still be sexy when he was sixty, she concluded. Not that she'd had much doubt about it.
Shaking off her wildly inappropriate thoughts, she returned to reality. "I was about to step out for lunch myself. Jake's been locked up in his office since he arrived." As she spoke, Jen drifted into the hallway. "I'll let him know you're here."
Tapping lightly on the door, she waited a moment before entering and shut the door behind her. Jake was on the phone, but motioned her to have a seat. It didn't take long for him to finish.
"What's up?"
"A couple things." His impatient tone suggested she be quick about it. Mentally shrugging her shoulders, she plunged ahead. "First, I haven't had the opportunity to thank you for your help last week with Alex. I can't tell you how much-"
"Jen, I already told you, it wasn't any trouble." Absently running his fingers through his hair, he discovered a pencil tucked behind his ear. Frowning, he tossed it on his drafting table. "What's next?"
"Okay– second is to thank you for the gutters. It certainly wasn't your fault they collapsed, but I had to let you know how thoughtful it was."
If Jen thought he was im
patient when she first came through the door, she now had confirmation she was seriously pushing her luck. His intimidating stare lasered in on her. The longer she spoke, the more distant Jake appeared to grow. Her cheeks warming, she knew she was looking flustered. "Okay. No more 'thank you's'."
"Good." He picked up the receiver, intent on making a call. "Is that it?"
"I. . . no! Your mom is here and would like to take you to lunch." Grateful to rise from her seat, she was eager to create some distance as she headed for the door. "Shall I send her in?"
"No. Tell her I'm unavailable and I'll catch up with her tonight."
Her gasp of surprise must have been audible, because Jake's gaze left the phone to lock with hers. "Is that a problem?"
"Uh. . . no. Of course not. I-I'll tell her for you." Not once since she'd been at Specialty had he dismissed someone as quickly as he had just now. If she hadn't known better, she would have guessed he was angry. Making a beeline for the door, she was relieved to escape his surly mood. Without looking back, she spoke over her shoulder. "I'm going to lunch. I'll be back in an hour."
She hesitated a moment, waiting for an acknowledgment that never came. All praise of his generous, thoughtful side were shelved. Jake's best qualities were obviously going to remain well hidden from the world today. Grateful for some distance, she returned to her office. What in the world would she tell his mother? 'Excuse me ma'am, but your son is being a real bastard today'. The truth wouldn't go over well.
"Mrs. Traynor? I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Jake's on a long distance call," she lied. "He said he'll be tied up for some time. He didn't want to make you wait."
"I see."
"But– he said he'll call you tonight." Jen felt compelled to tack on the wishful directive to the disappointed woman. Hurt visible in her eyes, she knew Mona Traynor was devastated.
"Next time I'll make an appointment." She hesitated. "It's my fault. I know he's busy." Rising from the chair, she retrieved her overcoat. "It was nice to meet you, dear."
Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1) Page 7