Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1)

by Giordano, Lauren

  "You were true to your word," she admitted, her voice suddenly husky. "You've been– a terrific friend. I'm grateful-"

  Jen seemed to have difficulty choosing her words. He held his breath, praying she would finish her sentence before she thought better of it.

  "I'm so glad I took the job. I can't tell you how much I appreciate-" His hands clenched the wheel in anticipation.

  "All you've done for me," she finished. "And the kids," she was quick to add. "You've been so kind. I can't thank you enough-"

  "Don't thank me," he interrupted, his eagerness deflating. "I love your kids." Dammit, he didn't want to be appreciated. He just wanted– her. Forever. He wanted to cherish her kids. He wanted her love. "I like spending time with them. I don't want to be thanked for that," he said, wincing over his suddenly gruff tone.

  Her eyes wide, she hurriedly turned away, her fingers restless as she drummed on the window. "I want you to know that I've loved working for you. I've lo– enjoyed," she quickly corrected, ". . .having your friendship. That's all."

  He released a deep breath, frustration simmering through him. Why did every conversation with her turn dangerous? "Jeez . . . you make it sound as though something awful is about to happen. You're not still worried about Willoughby are you?"

  It was safer to steer the subject back to business. Because unfortunately, that's what they were about, Jake acknowledged with a stab of disappointment. Business and friendship. They were a great team and they liked each other. That's what they had in common.

  But just below the surface, under the thin veneer of friendship simmered the ever-present, molten, stabbed-in-the-chest pain of a nearly overwhelming desire. They shared that, too.

  ***

  Jenna's stomach tightened with apprehension as the Baltimore skyline loomed before them. It had been six months . . . and she hadn't experienced the desire to return. How would she endure the next few days? When Baldwin recognized her . . . Heck, she might be driving back home tonight.

  Alone and unemployed.

  "You lived in Baltimore, didn't you?"

  Startled out of her worry, she pulled herself back to the conversation. "Uh– sort of. I lived north of here."

  "But you worked around here somewhere, right?"

  "Yeah. A. . . design firm. It was pretty small . . . you probably wouldn't have heard of it. Went out of business a year ago." Another lie. Turning to the window, she mentally banged her head against it. So much for honesty. Why couldn't she just confess and get it over with? You know why, her conscience assailed her.

  When she finally came clean, he would realize she'd lied. It would make him question everything she'd ever said. His hard-earned respect would disappear. And she'd be forced to leave. But there was no way Baldwin wouldn't remember her. She needed a plan.

  "Did you like it here?"

  Once. A long time ago. "Yes, but I like Stafford better," she admitted.

  "Me, too. I like steering clear of the beltway." Jake scanned the signs overhead. "I think it's this one."

  Jenna kept her gaze on the skyline, pretending a fascination she didn't feel. It was safer than risking his scrutiny. As jumpy as she was feeling, there was no way those laser-beam eyes would miss her nervousness. Just like the old days, she ticked off the buildings her company had built. But unlike the past, she couldn't ignore the cost to doing business with Whitney Group. She suppressed a shudder when she thought about the pending project. Would Specialty be their next victim?

  "I think I may know Baldwin," she offered, her casual tone belying the freight train pounding of her heart.

  "Really?" His expression hadn't changed. What equated to an earthshaking reveal for her . . . was just a piece of information for Jake. "I haven't seen him in years. What was his reputation?"

  The conversational field was about to turn treacherous. Though she might make it across, it was laden with landmines. "He's . . . a player. A dealmaker."

  Jake smiled. "Sounds the same. Back in college, he chased any girl with a pulse."

  She startled. "Yeah, I think . . . that's probably accurate."

  "How about dinner once we get settled in our rooms? Maybe around seven? I'm sure you'll want to check in with Mona . . . see how the kids are."

  No more questions? Her insides liquefied with relief. One lie undone. She couldn't prevent Steve from spreading gossip about her, but at least she'd corrected one falsehood. "That sounds good."

  "We'll keep it simple. Maybe the hotel dining room? We have a long day tomorrow so I'd rather have an early night."

  She risked a glance at him. Getting through tomorrow would require all her strength. They were scheduled with Willoughby at nine. But their meeting with Baldwin started at seven-thirty.

  "You remembered a dress for tomorrow night, right? Willoughby's got some cocktail thing with the architect and the subs we'll be working with." Unable to hide his grimace of distaste, she smiled.

  "It won't kill you to dress up, you know."

  "How do you know for sure?"

  For a fleeting moment, she forgot the impending doom of her situation and laughed over his grumpy prediction. "You did fine at the Christmas party," she reminded. He'd looked sexy as hell that night. It had taken a week to shake the mental image of her stripping him out of his tuxedo. Tugging off his tie before unbuttoning his shirt . . . Her cheeks heated with the memory of her fantasy.

  "I only kept my tie on the first hour." Jake's gaze met hers, his expression hopeful. "Maybe we'll be able to cut out after an hour or so?"

  She shook her head. "I wouldn't hold my breath."

  "How about this," he challenged. "If we don't have to stay all night. . . I'll try to wrap everything up on Wednesday. We could get home a day early."

  That gained her attention. Assuming she was still there on Wednesday and still employed with Specialty.

  Jake smiled when she sat up straighter. "I've sparked your interest. You're much better at small talk," he admitted. "You get us out of that party early and I'll get you home Wednesday instead of Thursday."

  "Deal." She had nothing to lose. If Baldwin threatened her, then the least of her concerns would be her departure from Baltimore. If he didn't, then Jake signed the contract and she would do her best to protect him. She'd watch his back and pray. Unless. . .

  What if she could get to Baldwin? Maybe threaten to reveal what she knew about his shady dealings? Threaten to tell Jake what she knew. The risk was that she could lose. They were college friends. Steve could relay a horrible story about her– yet it would be anchored in truth. She'd been fired– not for what she did . . . but for what she'd refused to do.

  "Leave everything to me." If Jake wouldn't protect himself, she'd do it for him. If she pressured Baldwin with her knowledge of his dirty laundry– maybe she could get him to back down on some of his demands on Specialty. Her heart pounding crazily, Jen didn't know which would be worse: failing in her attempt to protect Specialty or– God help her– Jake discovering what she'd done.

  ***

  This was it. Beads of perspiration slithered along the base of Jen's spine. She laid her fork on the edge of her plate. Jake didn't know it yet, but Steve Baldwin had spotted him and was currently weaving his way through the restaurant to their table. ETA: thirty seconds.

  Just barely, she remembered she wasn't supposed to know him well. Picking up her coffee cup, she glanced out the window, forcing her attention to the ships moored in the harbor. Her toes clenching in her pumps, she schooled her expression. Stay cool, she reminded herself. Don't react.

  "Jake! Bro– long time no see." Baldwin slapped him on the shoulder before pulling up a chair.

  "Steve, it's good to see you. You look great." Glancing across the table at her, he smiled warmly. "Steve, I'd like you to meet my assistant, Jenna Stone."

  Just like the Steve she remembered, he didn't wait long to offend. Releasing a low whistle of appreciation, Baldwin grabbed her hand and forcefully shook it. Waiting for the flicker of recognition in h
is eyes, she resisted the urge to snatch her fingers back.

  "Well, she's certainly a stunner, Jake." He held her fingers a moment too long, his gaze appreciative. "It's nice to meet you, Jenny," he emphasized, making her cringe as he toyed with her. The last day– he'd forced her to sit in his office . . . door closed . . . while he described all the things he would do to 'Jenny Cahill'. "Jake told me all about you last night."

  Though warmed by the frown of disapproval on Jake's face, she knew better. He may as well get used to Steve's sexist comments if he was going to work closely with Baldwin.

  "It's nice to meet you," she acknowledged, her voice politely cool as she extricated her hand and refrained from shuddering. Thankfully, she'd already gone up to her room the previous night when Jake bumped into Baldwin in the lobby.

  "It's Jenna," Jake corrected. "Actually, it's Mrs. Stone to you, Steve. Jen's married."

  She resisted the urge to smile. Dear, sweet Jake was protecting her. Not since her brothers had anyone tried to protect her like that. Her toes eased up a notch in her pumps. Jake cared . . . even if it was only concern for an employee. She hadn't forgotten how he'd tried to convince her not to go to Baltimore. His concern for Megan had done strange, wistful things to her heart.

  "Hey, it's cool." Baldwin winked at her brazenly, his expression openly mocking.

  "Jen mentioned she may have met you before." Oblivious to the tension swirling between them, Jake kept up the conversational chit-chat.

  "We have. A few times, I believe," she challenged, her voice cool.

  "I'd remember a woman like you, Jenny."

  "Let's take a look at the schedule, shall we?" A tiny frown creased Jake's brow, belying his businesslike tone. He was annoyed by Steve's brazen familiarity. In that moment, Jenna loved him even more.

  Maintaining a neutral expression while Steve's leering face filled her brain, her heart began pounding with fury. Jen realized she'd been wrong about one thing. She hadn't gotten over what Baldwin had done to her. She hated him more now than she had six months earlier. No longer afraid of facing him, she was actually going to enjoy making the bastard pay.

  Chapter 12

  Leaning back against the bar the next evening, Jake watched Jenna float through the crowded lobby. She'd held up her end of the bargain– charming them all long before nine o'clock. Unable to tear his gaze from her long, graceful legs, he loosened his tie. As she finessed her way to the bank of elevators, her amazing black dress seemed to float and cling at the same time.

  At least the night was nearly over. He should be thankful they'd be returning home a day early. In less than forty-eight hours, he'd reached a breaking point– unable to even look at Jen without experiencing an almost desperate need to touch her.

  As a result, he'd grown increasingly short-tempered. And it was ticking her off. Hell– with Jen, one raised eyebrow spoke volumes. And she'd been glaring at him all evening. But, what the hell was he supposed to do? She'd taken up residence in his head, and he'd run out of ways to fight it. Her scent. The sound of her voice. Her smile.

  He was starting to believe he'd spend the rest of his life in this perpetual state of frustrated misery. Until they could talk. Until he could finally confess how he felt about her . . . they remained only friends. She was off-limits. What made his stomach knot with sickness was the growing fear she wouldn't feel the same. Because for him– it wasn't just attraction. And it wasn't just sex.

  And it never had been.

  He was pathetically, hopelessly in love with the one woman he might never be able to have. Tossing back a finger of scotch Jake knew he shouldn't be drinking, he felt it burn all the way down.

  If Jen didn't want him– he didn't want to contemplate how he would face it. Loving her, but never having her. Never having Alex for a son. And Megan. Hell, he was batting a thousand tonight.

  The lounge was still packed. Glancing down the bar, he discovered three sets of female eyes watching him with undisguised interest. With very little effort, he could be picked up tonight. He could exercise the pent-up longing he'd nursed for months. He could try, for just one night, not to think about Jen before falling asleep. For one night, he could lose himself in the arms of a woman– any woman. And maybe, just maybe, he would wake in the morning and feel better.

  Instead, he set his glass on the bar, an overwhelming sense of fatigue washing over him. The thought of faking it through ten minutes of banter with some overly-eager woman was too much to contemplate. The thought of drowning himself in the cloying scent of someone who wasn't Jenna Stone made his stomach tighten with repugnance.

  It was time for bed. Alone.

  Pushing off the bar, Jake started across the lobby, frowning when he saw the elevator doors close with Jen inside. Her coppery hair was unmistakable. As was the man standing way too close . . . with his damned arm looped over her shoulder.

  Baldwin. He sucked in a breath.

  What the hell were they doing together? And how had Steve managed to corner her so fast? Swearing, he quickened his pace across the marble foyer. Men had been hitting on her since they'd arrived. In every meeting, for God's sake. No matter how she dressed, no matter where she sat in the room, Jen was noticed. She wore a damned wedding band and still, the bastards approached her.

  Baldwin had been the worst offender, he admitted. Jenna seemed to be handling his remarks . . . but he knew she was disgusted. She was keeping her anger under tight rein. And knowing she did it on his behalf made him feel worse. Because of his interest in this project, Jen was forced to play the role of dutiful assistant. The more obnoxious Steve became, the more edgy Jake grew . . . and the more short-tempered he became with Jen.

  He knew it was ridiculous to blame her for Baldwin's insufferable interest, but it bothered him that Jen hadn't complained. Was it possible she enjoyed the attention? In the last day, he'd begun having serious doubts about Baldwin. Jake wasn't sure he'd be able to make it through the project without beating his frat brother senseless.

  Giving the elevator button a vicious push, he glanced at the illuminated numbers. Every elevator was in use, tied up somewhere above the eighth floor. Jen's elevator was still perched on the tenth– her floor. If Steve tried anything with her, Jake would not be responsible for his actions.

  Baldwin had been notorious in college . . . and from what little he'd seen in the bar last night, his buddy hadn't changed a bit. Steve had pestered women with his lewd comments until an equally desperate blonde had finally accompanied him back to his room. Jake had been relieved. At least he hadn't been forced to watch anymore.

  Punching the button one last time, he turned for the stairs. Damned if he would let Steve get anywhere near Jenna. Pure adrenaline pushed him up the first seven floors at a run. By the eighth, it was annoyance that guided him. How could she have been so careless– to let herself get cornered by Baldwin? The last two floors were fueled by high octane fury. Bursting through the door to her hall, Jake knew he shouldn't go to her room. Not the way he was feeling. The rational part of his brain informed him to stop– insisted he continue down the hall to his own room until he could cool down. He was in no shape to talk to her. But, by the time he arrived at her door, rationality had taken a backseat to seething, gut-shredding jealousy.

  None of it could stop him from pounding on her door. And God help him if he found Baldwin in there with her.

  Dragging agitated fingers through his hair, he released several deep breaths, fighting to calm his anger. His heart was thundering in his chest. He had no business checking up on her. No right at all. But when her fingers fumbled with the chain, his entire body tensed.

  "Jake– what's the matter? Is something wrong?"

  He noticed she only opened the door enough to poke her face out into the hallway. He also noticed Jen seemed flustered . . . her cheeks pink with exertion. . . her hair already tumbling down around her shoulders.

  "Can I come in for a minute?" Taking another deep breath, Jake released it slowly. See? He could sti
ll sound rational. Not the least bit out of control. A chokehold on his jealousy, he sounded damned civil.

  "I-I'm already-" Chewing her bottom lip, Jenna appeared to contemplate his request. "Can you hang on a minute? I was sort of. . . I'm half-dressed."

  His gaze dropping to her feet, he realized she'd already kicked off her heels. Jeez– what if she was hiding Baldwin in there? What if she really was cheating on her husband? He felt the chokehold slip a notch. "It's important. I'll wait."

  Jen's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to meet you downstairs?"

  And give Baldwin a chance to escape? Hell, no. "Here is fine. I only need a few minutes."

  To her credit, it took only two minutes before she pulled the door open and allowed him entry. But it had felt like ten, Jake admitted when he brushed past her and entered the room. His gaze took in the dim lighting, his eyes registered the slightly mussed king-sized bed and the flickering television, the volume turned down low. The curtains were still open, the harbor lights reflected in the glass. He smelled the enticing blend of her perfume and the sweet scent of tea brewing in the rumbling pot on the counter.

  "Is s-something wrong? Did I forget something for tomorrow?"

  Turning back, he finally looked at her for the first time since she'd opened the door. Jenna was standing near the bathroom with one hand clutching her dress at the nape of her neck. Her hair was partially unraveled and hung loose around her shoulders. His gut clenched over the latent aura of slow burn sexuality shimmering around her. Only her eyes didn't fit the fantasy. They were enormous and worried.

  "What's wrong with your dress?" If Baldwin touched her-

  "I-it's nothing. I had it unfastened and it's– sort of hard to re-hook that quickly."

  He brushed past her to enter the bathroom, still unable to believe she was truly alone.

  "Are you looking for something? Perhaps if you'd tell me what you need, this might go a lot faster."