Strawberry Kisses (A Rocky Harbor Novel Book 2)

by Marianne Rice

  Maybe a little family distraction would help her contain her lust and give her time to make sure she was…sure.

  “I thought we’d go to the Drive-in later.”

  “To watch a movie or to make out in the back seat?”

  “Lucy!” Doreen reprimanded.

  “Whatever Rachael wants.” He winked before returning a more serious look to her. “What would you prefer?”

  “We can eat here before we go out, if that’s okay with you.”

  “As long as I’m with you, I’m good,” he said softly so only she could hear.

  “Oh, get a room already.”

  “Lucy!” Doreen scolded again.

  Or maybe it wasn’t quite so softly.

  “Are you sure you and Mackenzie aren’t twins separated at birth?” Jake asked. Rachael snorted and Lucy flipped him the bird when Doreen wasn’t watching.

  The four of them ate out on the patio, laughing over stories of Rachael’s desperate attempts to tag along with Graham and Luke when she was in middle school. It wasn’t until Blake and Colton had come along that she’d backed off a tad, being a little intimidated and very outnumbered.

  Sensing Lucy’s unusual quietness, she changed the subject to include her, knowing Lucy didn’t have any fun stories to tell. By the time Doreen and Keith had adopted her, everyone had moved out. She didn’t get to fight with younger or older sisters. And only had Keith as a father figure for less than a year before he died.

  Her backstory was still vague to Rachael. The Riley siblings had taken an unspoken oath not to ask others for details of their life before being adopted, but remained available to listen when a sibling wanted to share.

  Lucy hadn’t shared her story, and Rachael hadn’t divulged her secrets either. This summer she’d change that and include Lucy more in her life. And welcome her into her secrets. Just as she’d open up to Jake. He deserved to know about her screwed-up past as well.

  ***

  Jake

  Jake parked his truck toward the back of the Drive-in. Not so secluded she’d be nervous, but not right in front of the crowd either. “This good?”

  Rachael nodded. He kept it light while they waited for the sun to set and the previews to start by playing the I Spy game.

  “You’re making it up. I can’t find anything else that’s purple.”

  “Keep guessing, Blondie.”

  “Is it something in the back of your truck?” He shook his head. “And I can see it from where I’m sitting?”

  “Maybe.”

  Rachael looked around the close quarters of the cab of his truck. He’d cleaned it since the last time she was in it. Vacuumed and stored his tools somewhere else. “I give up.”

  “You know what that means?”

  “I don’t recall making any rules before we started this game.”

  “Oh, we definitely did.” Rachael raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, I did.”

  “Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms over her chest and did her best to cast an evil eye his way. “And what exactly are the rules?”

  “The rules clearly state”—she interrupted him with a snort—“that if someone is unable to find said I Spy object, the loser must kiss the winner.”

  “I don’t know.” She played along. “Seems a little Catch 22 to me. Maybe I should keep guessing.”

  “Too late. You already gave up.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did so. It’s your toes. They’re purple.”

  Rachael unhooked her leg from under her and rotated her foot. She forgot about the purple polish she put on last night while talking to Jake on the phone. “You couldn’t even see them from where you’re sitting.” She straightened in her seat, slipping her feet out of her flip flops and rotated her ankles.

  “I noticed them when I picked you up.”

  “You didn’t even look down at my feet.”

  “Babe, I looked at every inch of you.” The heat smoldering in his voice sent shivers of lust through her body.

  “Oh.”

  “And when you look at me like that…” He let out a breath and turned away from her, staring ahead at the blank movie screen.

  “When I look at you like what?” she whispered, moving her aching body across the bench, closer to him. She studied his profile, noticing his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. A look of concentration became etched into his brows as a bead of sweat formed on his forehead. Feeling brave and bold for the first time, she slid her hand across the seat and onto his knee. It twitched and he growled.

  “Rachael,” he warned.

  “I’m paying up.” She skimmed her hand up his thigh, keeping it safely on the outside and away from the bulge between his legs. She moved it up his chest until she reached his neck. Caressing his chin, she turned his face toward hers and looked deep into his magnetic eyes. “I’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?”

  “Babe.”

  Rachael leaned in towards him and brought his face closer to hers, taking the time to smell his clean, rustic sent before lowering her lips on his. Her tongue found entrance to his mouth and slowly sipped the sweetness from it, feasting upon his kindness and generosity. Jake’s hands made a leisurely trip up her back until they settled in her hair.

  Needing to be closer, Rachael shifted to her knees and leaned even further into his strength. She tried to fling her right leg over his body to straddle him, but her thigh rammed into the steering wheel and her foot got caught on the gearshift. In all the movies she’d seen and romance novels she’d read this never happened.

  “Sorry.”

  “No. Don’t.” He made his point the other day about her apologizing, but she couldn’t help it. Old habits were hard to bury. Jake slid his body across the bench so they were in the passenger seat, with her still straddling him. “Better?”

  “Much.” She studied his caring eyes as he positioned his hands on her waist.

  “Now where were we?”

  Rachael wiggled her eyebrows and her butt. “I don’t remember. Something about purple toes and—” He cut her off with a searing kiss that ended too quickly as the movie flickered on the big screen and music came out of the speakers.

  “This is probably a good thing.” Jake held her face in his hands and gently pushed her hair back. “There’s only so much I can take right now. I may need to go for a walk. Cool down for a bit.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “Babe. That would defeat the purpose. I can’t promise I wouldn’t pin you against a tree and…never mind. I’m good. I’ll grab the cooler out of the back.” Jake picked her up and moved her to the side before jumping out of the truck. She watched him scrape his hand across his face before wiggling around in his jeans.

  Smiling at the effect she had on him, Rachael calmed her breathing, applied another layer of lip gloss, and studied her disheveled hair in the mirror.

  From the back, he said, “I have water, soda, and one of those fruity girl drinks my sister used to love before…it’s basically spiked lemonade.”

  “The girly drink sounds good.”

  He climbed back into the cab, a bottle of water and her bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other. “Can’t watch a movie without popcorn.”

  “You made it ahead of time?”

  “I’m picky about my popcorn. The movie theater stuff is good, but sometimes I like to make my own.”

  Rachael grabbed a handful and nearly melted. “Oh, wow. What’s in it? This is amazing.”

  “Parmesan, garlic, and rosemary.”

  “You’re kidding me. You can cook?”

  “I didn’t say anything about cooking. My mom spoiled us on good food growing up. She loves to make fancy healthy stuff and I learned how to make the things I really liked.”

  “Tell me more. What other foods did she make for you?” Rachael continued to shovel popcorn in her mouth, ignoring the movie, while he fed her stories and recipes.

  “My dad’s Irish and, in case you
couldn’t tell, my mom’s pure Italian. She’d be proud of your mom’s lasagna. It was pretty good.”

  “Mom is an awesome cook, although she doesn’t do much of it anymore. I’ve sort of taken over in the kitchen since I’ve been home. Although I’ve been slacking lately since I’ve been so busy.” Not only with her cooking, but with Jake as well.

  “I’d hardly call it slacking.” He took a swig of water and screwed the cap back on the bottle, setting it in the cup holder. “I’m looking forward to having you cook for me. And I don’t mean that in a sexist way. I’ve sampled some of your recipes and I’m hooked. Consider me a food snob, so really, that’s the highest compliment anyone could give you.”

  Rachael laughed. “Thank you. How about next weekend I cook dinner for you?”

  “I’d like that.” Jake picked up the bowl of popcorn that separated them and placed it to his left, moving into her space. “I’d like that very.” He kissed her lightly. “Very.” He settled on her lips a little longer. “Much.”

  When the movie ended they looked up in surprise, not having watched a single minute of it. “Are you tired? I know you have an early morning tomorrow. I can bring you home if you don’t want to stay for the next movie.”

  “Actually, I’d like to stay, if that’s okay.” Rachael loosened her arms from his neck and dropped her legs from his lap.”

  “I suppose I can sacrifice a night of debauchery for you, Blondie.” He picked her legs back up and set them across his lap, pulling her into his side with his strong arm.

  They cuddled together and actually watched the second film. His hands were in constant movement, skimming up and down her arm, in her hair, or intertwined with her fingers. Jake pressed gentle kisses to her head, which rested on his shoulder, and held her tight when she jumped at the scary parts in the high-action thriller.

  It was nearly one in the morning when the double-feature was over and Jake drove her home. She had a hard time keeping her eyes open, but wanted to make sure Jake stayed awake. He walked her to the door and gave her a slow, passionate kiss that played with her girly parts again.

  The pale pink satin underwear stayed on, but would be coming off next weekend.

  For sure.

  ***

  “You can’t keep working seven days a week.” Mackenzie swung her legs back and forth, sitting contently on Rachael’s workspace.

  “I’m not exactly working.”

  “You’re here every morning, and covering shifts for me when someone calls in sick.”

  “I’d be baking at home anyway. This gets me out of the house.”

  “That’s working seven days.”

  “Pot calling the kettle black. Have you taken a day off since I’ve met you?”

  “I live upstairs, so it only seems like I work every day.”

  “Ha. You check in with your staff, serve the patrons, and clean up whether you’re working or not.”

  “Yeah, so speaking of that.” Mackenzie hopped down and wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans. “Any chance you can cover Deanna’s shift this afternoon? She came down with the flu and I have a hot date later.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I don’t plan on getting much sleep tonight.”

  Rachael still had a zillion things to do like grocery shop, shower, change her clothes, and bake five dozen muffins. She figured she’d have a late night too and had planned on doing Sunday’s baking this afternoon and not coming in tomorrow. But she couldn’t leave Mackenzie hanging, not after the support she’d given Rachael. She’d have to call Jake to cancel.

  “Sure. I can close up.” Coast & Roast opened at five in the morning and closed at six in the evening during the summer months. Normally Rachael was gone before closing, but she’d put in a few long days and watched Mackenzie close down the place, so she knew what to do.

  “I’ll come in early tomorrow, so don’t stress about anything. As long as the food is put away and the counters clean, I’m good. And really, thank you. I hope I didn’t crash any plans you had tonight.”

  “Nothing I can’t reschedule.”

  “You’re a peach. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  After Mackenzie left, Rachael pulled out her phone and sent Jake a quick text. Thirty minutes later, as she was wrestling with the espresso maker, he walked in, clearly annoyed.

  He waited until her two customers had their drinks and had walked off before leaning over the counter and studying her. “What gives? Last thing I knew you baked for this place, you didn’t work the front.”

  “I know.” She sighed, rounding the counter and walking into his arms. “I’m sorry. Deanna’s sick and Mackenzie was in a bind. I told her I’d help out. I should be out of here by six-thirty, I just won’t have time to change or shop for food. I promise I’ll make you dinner another time.” Rachael rested her head on his chest, snuggling into his steady heartbeat.

  “First, don’t apologize unless you poisoned Deanna so she’d be sick and you’d have to cover for her, or unless you were looking for an excuse to bail. Second, I’m not mad that you’re not making me dinner. Was I looking forward to it? Hell yes.” He kissed the top of her head. “Mostly I was looking forward to being with you. I can hang around here until you close up and then we can grab a bite to eat. Or I can whip up something at home.”

  “I have my mom’s car so I can meet you at your place. There’s no need to wait around here for another hour.”

  Jake squeezed her one more time before stepping away. “Watching you for an hour would be no trouble at all, but if you have a car then I might as well meet you back at my place. I’ll stop at the store and start on dinner.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Hell yes.” He nuzzled her lips with his until the ringing of the front door separated them. “I’ll text you my address.”

  “I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

  Jake kissed her lightly one more time before slipping away. The late afternoon crowd was thin and Rachael used the time in between customers to sweep the floor, fill the napkin dispensers, and rearrange the glass cabinet that housed the baked goods. Sunday mornings were busy and she’d have to come in pretty early to get a jump on the muffins.

  At least dinner wasn’t a total washout. Once the shop was cleaned and locked up for the night, Rachael hurried into the employee bathroom and washed her face, brushed out her ponytail, and inspected her make-up. Not one for carrying cosmetics in her purse, there wasn’t much she could do to glam up for her date.

  At least she wasn’t wearing one of her tacky shirts her brothers got her. The plain white shirt would have to do. It wasn’t like Jake was the dressy type anyway, not like…nope. Not going to go there.

  Checking her phone for the address, she typed in the information to her GPS, locked up the back door, and got into her mother’s car. Next week she’d go car shopping. The second step to independence.

  Then would come her own apartment where she could have sleepovers with Jake and not feel self-conscious about it. Because come hell or high water, she was sleeping over at his house tonight.

  ***

  Jake

  Jake had never been self-conscious of his little house, but he’d never had a woman over either. It complicated things too much. Besides, his humble home was nostalgic and bringing a one-night stand into it seemed inappropriate.

  When his grandparents passed away two years ago—first his grandfather after complications from a stroke, then his grandmother, who died of a lonely heart—he’d inherited their tiny two-bedroom ranch. Their faith in him, that he’d treat it like a home and not a headquarters for drugs and crime, was heartening.

  While the place needed a lot of upgrades, the last being done back in the eighties, it was paid for and in his name. Eventually he’d build on. For now the small living room fit his second-hand couch and modest television. The orange and yellow linoleum kitchen floor had seen better days, but would be one of the last modifications. He tracked in a lot with his work boots and didn’t want to worry about rui
ning his floors. The eat-in kitchen area still had his grandparents’ chipped and yellowing Formica table and four metal chairs, and the spare bedroom housed the large oak desk his grandfather used to sit at and make model airplanes with Jake when he was younger.

  He ran the vacuum over the brown, frayed carpet and did a quick clean of the bathroom before Rachael came over, not wanting her to be disgusted with his bachelor ways. Jake wasn’t a slob, but with his workload, and trying to squeeze in as much time with Rachael as he could, he hadn’t devoted as much time to chores as he should have.

  When he opened the door to her a little while later and she stepped into his arms, all insecurities fell by the wayside. He poured her a glass of wine and he laughed as she pushed him aside so she could make the salad.

  “I see what your mother means about you being a grouch in the kitchen,” he teased.

  “I am not. It just gets complicated with too many hands, and I like things done…the right way.”

  “Meaning your way.”

  “Maybe.” Rachael grinned.

  Twenty minutes later, Jake looked down at the sleeping beauty on his couch. He’d gone outside to take the chicken off the grill and had come in to find Rachael snoring like a lumberjack. Her face was smushed into the back cushion and her gorgeous ass stuck out, begging him to stare. She’d been up since four this morning and worked nearly fourteen hours. Poor woman was wiped.

  The house was warm, but he pulled a light sheet over her body before lying next to her, spooning her backside into him. Before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep as well.

  “Christ!” Jake yelled when he hit the floor sometime later.

  “Jake?” Rachael sat up, her hair disheveled and pillow lines creased into her cheek. “What…did I fall asleep?” He hadn’t pulled the shades, but it was dark out and he had no idea what time it was. “I’m s—…uh, I didn’t mean to.”

  Proud of her for stopping her apology, he got to his knees and faced her. Their eyes were level and he filled his face with a smile. “You sleep like a log.”