She began stacking the plates. "I just hope Alex hasn't been bothering you, that's all."
The fleeting glimmer of pain he'd witnessed in her eyes cleared. Her expression went carefully neutral. Apparently, he'd failed the test. She passed him again, heading for the kitchen. "As soon as I get this cleared away, we can get started on the Baltimore deal."
***
"That'll work fine." Throwing down his pencil, Jake leaned back to stretch in the dining room chair. "I think that's everything. I'm beginning to wonder about this one. We haven't even started this job and Willoughby's already changing his mind."
"Hang on." She scanned through the pages of notes, making sure the numerous changes they'd discussed made sense before she began the laborious process of writing change orders to the subcontractors who would perform the work. Stifling a yawn, she finally raised her head. "Just wanted to make sure I could read my writing."
Methodically stacking the folders into neat piles, she glanced up, suddenly realizing it was terribly quiet. "Good Lord. What time is it?"
Jake flicked a glance at his watch and brought his chair down with a thump. "Wow. It's after ten."
Startled, she brought a hand to her mouth. "The kids. They should've been in bed hours ago." She remembered telling them to get ready for bed. But– had they actually gone upstairs? Dropping her pad on top of the pile, she made a beeline into the living room, unsure what to expect. Stopping short in the doorway, she nearly caused a collision with her boss who was right on her heels. Her eyes softened at the sight of her children cuddled up on the couch, both of them sleeping soundly. The Christmas lights blinked soothingly in the windows. With a sigh, she drifted over to the couch.
"No matter how much they argue during the day . . . they look like angels when they're sleeping," she whispered.
"Why don't I help you get them upstairs before I leave?"
Jake's husky voice near her ear sent a sensual jolt of awareness crawling through her. A sharp wave of longing washed over her as she imagined that voice in a different setting. She had a sudden image of her darkened bedroom . . . of those strong arms wrapped around her while the kids slept peacefully down the hall.
Her face suffused with heat when she snapped back to reality. Not sure what her voice would sound like if she spoke, she took the easy way out, nodding for him to follow her lead. Gently scooping up Megan, she waited while he hoisted Alex. Hugging her daughter close, she crept up the stairs and through the darkened hallway to her bedroom.
Tugging on the comforter, Jenna pulled back the sheet before settling Megan under the covers. Glancing up, she discovered Jake silhouetted in the doorway, still holding Alex on his shoulder.
"Where's his room?"
"Two doors down, next to mine." Biting her lip, she turned back to her daughter. "I'll be right in to help you," she called softly after him. Tucking the blankets around Meg's shoulders, her daughter sighed contentedly and rolled over, her breathing deep and even. Jenna paused to switch on the nightlight before gently closing the door.
She found Jake trying to balance her son on one shoulder while he jerked back the blankets. She smothered a laugh at his stifled curse when he found a pile of race cars scattered over the sheets. "Perhaps I could help you?"
"He doesn't sleep with all those, does he?"
"He'd like to, but I make him stack them on the floor. Then, in the morning he wakes up and drags them up into bed." Jen swept the mountain of cars off the bed, clearing a spot for Alex. "You can set him down now."
Crouching close to the bed, Jake gently deposited her son between the sheets. Before she could step forward to help, he straightened the blankets and tugged them up over Alex' shoulders.
"Sleep tight, Sport."
Still smiling when she knelt near the bed, she scooped up cars that had scattered across the rug. It was pretty obvious her boss had developed a soft spot for her son. She nearly froze with shock a moment later when Jake dropped to his knees to help.
"I think you missed one," he whispered, "over there . . . near the bureau."
His smile was a flash of white in the darkness. And that sexy voice . . . If Jen hadn't already been on her knees, she was certain her muscles would have atrophied and she would have sagged to the floor. Her heart thudded in response. Damn, what was he doing to her? Knowing instinctively she would be unable to meet that laser-beam gaze, Jen averted her eyes. "I-I've got it. Thanks."
Snatching up the car, she rose quickly to her feet and felt Jake's hand at her elbow, steadying her as she regained her balance. Grateful for the darkness, she nearly panicked at the unexpected swamp of emotion she experienced.
It was simply too much. Just a few hours earlier she'd been forced to admit her growing attraction to her boss. Only tonight she'd realized her children were desperate for a father. And if Jake didn't remove his hand from her elbow soon, she was either going to burst into tears or throw herself into his arms.
"Are you all right? You're trembling."
"I-I'm fine." The room felt as though it were closing in around her. Surely Jake could sense it too . . . as though the air had suddenly been charged with electricity. Her arm tingled where his hand still remained, setting her nerves jangling. Reluctant to meet his gaze, she was terrified what she might find. Terrified Jake might read her confusion as something completely different. Like need. Like bone-melting desire.
"I. . . I– we'd b-better go down-"
"Jen-"
Her overwrought nerves exploded when he said her name. A single syllable and her central nervous system incinerated. The hoarse longing she heard in Jake's voice had her heart thudding with terror when she glanced up at him. She would never be certain whether she moved forward or took a step back from the naked desire she discovered in his eyes. They came together in a sudden, fierce embrace that left her in no doubt of the mutual attraction. Jake's mouth was frantic when it found hers, and the mere hint of his lips against hers had her sagging against him. She had no fear of falling though, because his arms wrapped around her, so powerful that she could barely breathe.
The sharp urgency of her need for him rocked Jen to her core. Sliding her arms up, she locked them around his neck, taking the opportunity to tug her fingers through the soft strands of hair that had driven her crazy with curiosity. The sensation of his strong, muscular body thrust against hers made her dizzy. How could she want a man like this? After years with a bad one and more years without one . . . Jake was all she could think about. His mouth slid over hers, nibbling, biting, caressing as it fed the heat stoking inside her. She would soon reach inferno level. When his tongue nudged against her lips, she moaned over the sheer wonder of it. Jake inside of her. Please God, don't stop.
Unable to stop trembling, she absorbed Jake's hands skimming lower as they roamed her back. Finally, his hands cupped her rear-end, tugging her possessively closer to the hardened length of him. How long? Since she'd felt so blatantly desired? How long since she'd wanted someone with the desperation she approached now? Jen couldn't remember feeling like this. Ever.
Her stomach knotting with jagged hunger, she tugged on his shirt buttons, her hands taking over when her mind rebelled. She had to touch him, needed to run her hands over the hot, hard muscles under his skin.
"Jake– I need to touch you. I want-" It was all she could manage to verbalize before her fingers finally discovered warm skin. Rational thought gave way to pure sensation. Sliding trembling hands inside his shirt, Jenna sighed over the hot, silken texture of his skin, thrilling when his tightly coiled muscles tensed under her fingertips. Jake's raspy breaths made her want to claw the shirt from his back.
Burrowing her face against his chest, she shuddered at the luxurious heat she found there. "I want– you." Shocked by the admission, Jen didn't recognize the husky voice as her own. Unable to stop herself, she rained kisses on his chest, making herself drunk on the scent of his heated skin. Nearly wild with need, she pulled his head down for a hot, lingering kiss.
; Never before had she felt so out-of-control. Never before had Jen cared less about the consequences. She thrilled to his touch, to the groan he uttered when he tugged the pins from her hair, exulting when his lips sought the sensitive skin of her throat. Not even Rick had ever made her feel like this. As though she would absolutely shatter if he stopped kissing her.
"God, Jen– let me touch you. Your hair . . . it's driven me mad. All these months. I've wanted you from the minute I saw you."
Burying his hands in the tangle of her hair, Jake pulled her close again. When his lips discovered the fluttering pulse in her throat, he gently tugged at it, his mouth and tongue sending arcs of electricity scorching through her body. "Please. . . Jake. My room-" She had to have him. Her heart throbbing with certainty, Jen moaned at the thought of him sharing her bed, his strong, sinewy body over her, around her. His powerful heat inside her. It had to be tonight. It had to be soon, or she would self-combust. Hell, she was ready to explode now.
"Mommy? Are you there?"
They jumped apart, Alex's sleep-drugged voice jarring them as effectively as a bucket of ice water. Jake recovered first, fumbling while he turned away from the bed to quickly re-button his shirt. Jen moved like a robot, still too shocked to form a coherent thought. Her nerves sizzled with the rage of unspent passion, her body still throbbing painfully from the withdrawal of his touch.
Finally finding her voice, she spoke soothingly, masking the raw edge of her need with soft words for her son. Jake took the opportunity to silently edge into the hallway as Alex drifted back to sleep. She stayed with him a few extra minutes, waiting for the pulse of desire to bank down before she would risk leaving the safety of her son's room.
Panic slammed through her when she closed his door, finally turning to face Jake. Dear Lord, what would she say? What would he do? She found him leaning against the wall in the upstairs hallway, his stance decidedly casual. The grim set of his jaw told a different story, one of barely contained fury. Shivering as she stared at him, she was unable to decide whether his anger was directed at her or himself. Reluctantly, she walked the few steps it took to close the physical distance between them. The emotional distance, she realized had become a yawning divide. His warm, hazel eyes had gone cold, even more noticeably so after the molten heat she had received from them just minutes earlier.
"I have to go. I never should have stayed so late."
"Jake. . . I-I don't know what to s-say." If she looked half as mortified as she felt, then she had to be blushing to the roots of her hair. Not that it mattered. Unable to face her, he was already heading down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Moving through the kitchen as though the demons of hell nipped at his heels, he hesitated only a moment to pick up his briefcase. He snatched his coat up from the rocking chair as he strode through the foyer. Jerking the door open, he practically ran down the steps.
"S-shouldn't we talk about this?" Jen stood resolutely in the door, her stomach sick with fear and shame as she wrapped her arms around her waist against the cold, winter night. What did he think of her? "Please, Jake– let me explain. It's not . . . what you think. Rick isn't- He and I aren't-"
"No." Jake cut her off. "It's not my business. I don't– I don't want to know. This didn't happen," he ground out fiercely. "It was a terrible mistake . . . one that never should've happened. I swear to you it will never happen again."
"But-"
"Forget it, Jen. We have to forget it." Turning on his heel, he stalked to his truck.
"That's what I plan to do."
The wind moaned through the barren trees as Jenna slowly retraced her steps to the house. The trembling she'd fought to contain began again in earnest. It would be a long time before she felt warm again. We have to forget it. How would she forget the feel of him in her arms? Would she ever look at him again without remembering the wild excitement she'd experienced? How would she be able to forget she'd fallen in love with her boss? ***
"Morning, Jenna. You feeling okay? You don't look very well."
Pasting on a smile, she forced aside the gloom she'd been wallowing in all morning. "Hi, Harry. I'm fine. Had a little trouble sleeping last night, that's all."
"Is one of the kids sick?"
She stifled a laugh. It would've been interesting to see his expression had he known the truth. That after nearly attacking his cousin, she was too strung-out to sleep. "No. Just one of those nights, I guess."
Harrison Traynor was the quiet, reserved member of the family. One had only to look at him to guess he controlled the purse-strings. Meticulous was the first word that came to mind when she thought of him. He was one of the few men at Specialty, and certainly the only Traynor who wore a shirt and tie every day. Harry actually seemed to enjoy it. She'd never seen him look anything other than fresh-pressed and conservative, even at the end of the day. She wondered how much starch was required to still look stiff at five o'clock.
You wouldn't catch Jefferson in a dress shirt, never mind a tie. Jeff's uniform consisted of jeans and a golf shirt. She figured he must own thirty shirts, as he wore a different color each day. She was equally sure he probably didn't wash any of them until his stash was depleted.
Jake wasn't much better, only wearing dress clothes for days spent with clients. Sometimes he didn't even make it a whole day. He kept a charcoal suit in his office closet and would strip out of his clothes, changing in his office before he left for appointments. Legend had it that Mrs. Reilly had caught him on several occasions in various states of undress. She shook her head. You'd think he would've learned to lock his door.
"Well, I hope you sleep better tonight." Harrison flicked a glance at his watch. "Is Jake in there with someone? I've got appointments all afternoon, and I need to talk with him."
"Sorry. He hasn't shown up yet." The coward. Actually, Jen was relieved. She couldn't begin to imagine how she was supposed to act around him. After torturing herself all night, she had come to the realization Jake was right. It had been a colossal mistake. An epic, horrifying moment of weakness. One in which she had nothing to gain and everything to lose. If Alex hadn't interrupted them, Jen was nearly certain she would have been left with no other option but to resign this morning. She'd risked her job– her security– over a man. Something she'd vowed would never happen. What was wrong with her? Hadn't she learned anything? No man was worth that kind of risk.
If her boss thought he could forget the incident . . . if Jake was willing to move forward as though nothing had happened, then she could, too. They'd handled issues before. Of course, those incidents hadn't involved tearing each other's clothes off.
"Have him call me when he shows up?"
Harrison's voice brought her gratefully back to reality. "Sure, Harry."
"I need to discuss this Baltimore project with him."
"As soon as he's back," she promised. If she could manage to look him in the eye and form coherent sentences. Once Harry left, she took the easy way out and sent Jake an email. When her phone rang a moment later, she jumped.
Seriously? She was pathetic. If there was to be any hope of moving forward, Jenna had better get a handle on her emotions– damn fast. Jerking the receiver up, her heart tripped as she waited for his familiar voice. A moment later, she released the breath she'd been holding. "Hi, Mona. Sure. . . I'd love to have lunch with you today."
***
"What the hell were you thinking?" Jake flung his hardhat on the passenger seat and climbed into the truck. Though he'd asked himself that question at least a hundred times in the past fourteen hours, he was no closer to an answer. Or, to be honest, he was no closer to an answer he could live with. "You must be friggin' crazy." Dragging a hand through his hair, he sighed irritably.
Jake couldn't begin to explain what had happened with his assistant the previous night. One minute he was dumping Alex into bed and the next, he was kissing Jenna. Although mauling was a more accurate description. Devouring her. Drowning in the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.
"What the hell were you thinking?" He shook his splitting head, causing it to hammer even harder as he pulled away from the construction site. "All you had to goddamn do was say goodnight. Why the hell didn't you just leave?" He'd managed all of twenty minutes sleep the previous night. Every time he dropped off, he would jerk awake in a cold sweat when his subconscious replayed the incident with Jen.
How in sweet hell would he ever forget her electrifying response? How did one go about erasing the soft moans of pleasure that were seared in his memory? How would he forget the knowledge that his quiet, conservative assistant– who dressed and acted like a librarian, was the hottest, sexiest, most responsive woman he'd ever touched?
"Fuck." Just thinking about Jen made him ache. Remembering the feel of that soft, curvy body thrust against his made him want to shout with frustration. If Alex hadn't awakened when he did. . . hell, they wouldn't have even made it to her room. He'd been so out of his mind for her, he would've gladly taken her against the wall in the upstairs hallway. The bathroom counter. The dining room table. Those gorgeous eyes . . . locked with his . . . both of them mindless as he made her come. Even that farfetched image made him groan.
Jake's hand shook when he rolled down the truck window, in the desperate hope a blast of arctic air might cure his stupor. He had to fix this. Jenna was the best damned assistant he'd ever had. He couldn't lose her. Not over something like this. Christ– never in a million years would he have believed he was capable of something so stupid . . . so unprofessional.
The painful knot of desire burning in his stomach hurt only slightly less than the hollow lump of regret in his chest. He didn't know which was worse: the certainty of knowing that one night with Jen would be better than any fantasy he'd ever had about her, or the fact that he would never, ever get the opportunity to find out.
"Married. She's married, you idiot." His voice grim with frustration, his mind was distracted by a nearly overwhelming curiosity. Dammit, where was Rick? Why wasn't he part of their lives? Was he gone? Like officially? And if he wasn't– then why the hell was Jen responding to him like that? What did that say about her character? Jenna didn't seem the type to cheat, but what did he know?
Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1) Page 11