by Cathie Linz
“Mr. Whitman, you’re supposed to be participating in an interview with me,” Emma reminded him. “Not arm-twisting Jake.”
“I’m not arm-twisting. Jake knows that. He’s an astute businessman.”
“He is?” Emma turned to look at Jake in surprise.
“I am?” He lifted a dark eyebrow.
“Come now, don’t be modest.” When Jake made no comment, Walt turned to Emma.
“Don’t you look at the Internet? Jake’s business savvy is there to see. The way he turned the early money he made from sponsors into even bigger bucks.”
“Those days are over,” Jake said flatly.
“Of course they are. You don’t need people to invest in you anymore. Now you invest in other things. Like a resort. Here in Serenity Falls. We’re much better than Rock Creek.”
Emma couldn’t let that insult to her hometown go unanswered. “Rock Creek has the Tivoli Theater. It is a town filled with new excitement.”
“Your mayor is a clown.”
“A retired clown,” Emma said.
“Retired or not, the guy is a clown.”
“Why do you feel the need to be so competitive with Rock Creek? Why not create opportunities where both towns can work together for the betterment of each one?”
“We’re already better. We’re one of the best small towns in America for three years in a row.” He pointed to the elaborately framed large certificates on his office wall. “We’ve got the scenic waterfall.” He pointed to a poster of the falls. “We’ve got a quaint town square with a lovely gazebo.” He pointed out the window. “We’ve even got an historic Revolutionary war cannon.”
“We’ve got a World War II tank.”
“We have Maguire’s sweet potato fries.”
“We have the Thai Place spring rolls. And the Antiques Mall and the Time for Tea Shop, not to mention the Arts and Crafts Drive with fifty talented artisans,” she said triumphantly.
“I hate to interrupt this civic pissing contest,” Jake said, “but I have a suggestion.”
“Great. I can’t wait to hear it,” Walt said.
“As mayor you want to be regarded as someone who can be trusted, right?’ Jake said.
Walt nodded. “Absolutely.”
“And you did agree to an interview with Emma during this time, correct?”
Walt squirmed in his chair. “Well, yes, but—”
“Then I suggest you honor your agreement and do that interview.”
“Fine.” Walt’s wide chest fell in a sigh of resignation. “I suppose you and I can talk later, Jake. I just wanted to make sure you considered Serenity Falls before you commit elsewhere.”
“I’m not gonna commit,” Jake assured him.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Walt said with jovial relief.
Emma wasn’t thrilled to hear that. She wasn’t surprised either. She’d already guessed that Jake was no fan of commitment to anything outside of extreme sports and the adrenaline rush they gave him.
“So go ahead, Emma, what’s your first question?” Walt said.
Her first question would be what the hell she was doing hanging out with a risk taker like Jake.
But that wasn’t relevant to her research so she gathered her notes and began her interview with Walt. All the while, she was only too aware of Jake sitting nearby. His jean-covered leg was only a few inches from hers. She recognized the washed-out blue gray three-button thermal knit shirt and the beat-up black boots he wore. He’d worn them before.
Did he recognize her blue polo shirt as the same one she’d had on when she’d first walked into that bar and met him?
Irrelevant, Em. Focus. o, not on Jake, on Walt. Focus on your questions for Walt. Emma did manage to finish her interview without making a fool of herself despite the fact that Jake was invading her space.
As a sociologist, she knew all about the four different “distance zones” North Americans had—intimate distance, personal distance, social distance, and public distance—all measured in a varying number of feet.
She’d now experienced a new zone—“Jake distance.” Forget about measuring in feet, Jake and his bad boy attitude merely had to be in the same room with her and she reacted with all the telltale physical signs of attraction.
Those signs of attraction built throughout their drive home. She lowered the driver-side window to allow the fresh air to cool her hot cheeks. They didn’t talk much. She seemed incapable of forming complete sentences.
“I’ll see you to your door,” Jake said once they arrived back in town.
“You don’t have to.”
“Yeah, I do.”
When she had trouble getting her key into the door lock, he reached around her to steady her hand. His body was warm against her back. “Jake distance” was at work again. Doing yummy stuff to her insides.
He was all about taking chances. She was all about playing it safe. How was that supposed to work?
His kiss told her that at least on a physical level it worked very well.
Chapter Twelve
“Talk to me,” she murmured against his lips.
“Mmm,” he murmured back. “You taste good.”
Once inside her apartment, their kisses continued. Jake kissing her. Emma kissing him.
“This could get complicated,” she whispered.
“So what? If it’s easy, it’s not worthwhile.”
It took a moment or two but then Jake’s words hit her. The wrong way. Here she was, melting in his arms yet again as she had every time he’d touched her. She couldn’t get much easier than that, unless she’d hopped into bed with him the second she’d met him. No doubt he’d had plenty of women do just that. At least she wasn’t one of them. Which meant she wasn’t a slut, she was just easy.
Somehow that conclusion did not reassure her. Which is what she meant by complicated.
Emma was thrown by the way she automatically and unequivocally melted every time she got near him.
Jake seemed to have all the power, leaving her subject to these bouts of unrestrained passion that weren’t like her at all.
They’d never talked about what had happened in the back of his Jeep the other night. Had she been easy then?
She hadn’t even known the guy for two weeks and yet that night she’d granted him intimacies she’d never shared with any other man in her entire life.
Panicked, Emma stepped on the emotional brakes and freed herself from his embrace.
“Wait a second.”
He reached for her, but she’d stepped away. “What’s wrong?”
“You just said it all.”
“What?”
“That if it’s easy, it’s not worthwhile. Does that apply to women too?”
He gave her a wicked grin. “I’ve got nothing against easy women.”
His confidence totally aggravated her. “Well, I do.” She grabbed hold of the doorknob and yanked the door open. She couldn’t think straight when he was around. “I’d like you to leave now.”
“See, this is why I don’t like to talk. Because you females all take things the wrong way.”
“Which makes me just another female, huh? Just another easy female who isn’t worthwhile to you.”
Jake grit his teeth and looked as though he wanted to kiss some sense into her.
Emma’s glare dared him to try, which probably wasn’t a good idea since the man had a track record of responding to dares.
Their standoff was interrupted by Oliver’s exuberant arrival. “I did it! I did it!” He was practically bouncing on his Converse soles. “I haven’t been this excited since I read the news about quantum fluids.”
“What are you talking about?” Emma asked.
“Quantum fluids—”
“No, I meant you. You said, ‘I did it.’ Did what?”
“Asked Lulu on a date. Well, she sort of asked me and I agreed it would be a good idea.
That makes it a mutual collaboration in the decision-making process regarding a
date.”
Emma looked over her shoulder to discover that Jake had left, which should have pleased her or satisfied her or something. Instead she felt even more mixed up inside.
Meanwhile, Oliver was doing a happy Snoopy dance across the floor toward the kitchenette.
“What’s going on here?” Leena said from the doorway. “I nearly get run over by one sexy guy racing down the stairs from your apartment, and now I find another guy doing some strange dance in your living room.” She came closer. “Who’s the geeky guy waving his skinny arms around?”
“That’s Oliver. He’s celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?” Leena asked suspiciously.
“That he’s got a date.”
“With you?”
“No, with Lulu.”
“Hmm. An interesting couple. Hey, Oliver,” Leena called out over Emma’s head. “I’m Emma’s sister Leena.”
Oliver stopped dancing and turned around to face them. “I didn’t know we had company.”
“We?” Leena raised an eyebrow.
Oliver nodded. “Emma and I are roommates.”
“Just for a short time,” Emma said.
“Is that why Jake lit out of here as if his feet were on fire?” Leena asked.
“Of course not,” Emma said. “Why should Jake care that Oliver is staying here?”
“He could be jealous of my superior brainpower,” Oliver said.
“Yeah, right,” Leena said. “Seriously, why was Jake in such a hurry?”
“I have no idea,” Emma said. “Why did you stop by?”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
Emma wasn’t buying that excuse and her expression said so.
“Okay, I wanted to know more about what happened after you and Jake took off together at Sue Ellen’s reception the other night,” Leena admitted. “But I knew you wouldn’t tell me much on the phone so I decided to drop by to twist your arm in person and invite you to lunch at the Thai Place. Just the two of us. For girl talk. Sorry, Oliver.”
“No problemo. I’ve got to check up on my e-mail and blogs.” He patted his laptop.
Leena had Emma downstairs, sitting at a table in the restaurant, in no time. “Okay, spill the beans. There’s a rumor going around town that you were seen coming home in the wee hours of the morning, as in daybreak, in Jake’s Jeep. Is that true?”
“We got held up in that terrible storm.”
“Define held up,” Leena said.
“You know, I used to think that Sue Ellen was the bossiest one in the family, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Mom is the bossiest.”
“I still can’t believe that you think I’m her favorite.”
“Because you are, that’s why. And don’t change the subject. Tell me what happened when you and Jake were”—Leena inserted finger quotes—“held up.”
“We stopped by to see the Serenity Falls waterfall and got caught in the storm.”
“Why did you go up there? It closes at nightfall.”
“I’d forgotten that.”
“So you hijacked Jake up to the waterfall after hours to make out? Way to go, little sis!”
“I did no such thing.”
Leena frowned. “He hijacked you?”
“No, of course not.”
“So you didn’t make out?”
“I am not answering that question.”
“You just did.”
Emma shoved a menu at Leena. “What are you going to order?”
“Spring rolls and pad thai. Oh look, there’s Jake. Shall we invite him to join us?”
Emma grabbed Leena’s hand before she could rap on the plate-glass front window to get Jake’s attention. “He’s probably on his way to work.”
Sure enough, Jake crossed Barwell Street and headed into Nick’s Tavern.
“It’s a shame that he has to spend such a beautiful June day in such a dark hole. I wonder why he does it. Haven’t you been curious?”
“Yes.” But Emma wanted Jake to tell her about himself, rather than her having to research him on the Internet. She wanted him to trust her enough to confide in her. Which was a pipe dream, no doubt. Although he had told her about snowboarding as a kid and a little about his life in extreme sports, it hadn’t been much. Just tantalizing tidbits here and there.
“And?” Leena prompted.
“And nothing.”
“He hasn’t told you anything about his reasons for being in Rock Creek?”
“No.”
“Have you asked him?”
“He’s a very private person.”
“Which means he blew off your questions. Did he at least complete your questionairre?”
“Yes. Which reminds me, I have a few questions to ask you about the website and blog you created with your business partner.”
The rest of their lunch was spent talking about Leena’s business and the importance she placed on helping women with self-esteem and body-image issues. The subject then turned to women entrepreneurs and the requirements for successfully launching a new venture.
Only as they were walking out did Leena hug Emma and say, “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you avoided talking about Jake.”
“You have a wedding to prepare for. You really should be concentrating on that and enjoying the momentary lull in hysteria while Sue Ellen is on her honeymoon.”
“Hey, I can do hysteria as well as, if not better than, the next girl.”
“You got that ability from Mom.” Grinning widely, Emma quickly sidestepped Leena’s attempt to sock her arm and made her escape.
Still in a good mood, Emma returned to her apartment to find Oliver engrossed in his e-mail.
“I brought you some spring rolls,” she said.
“Thanks. I got an e-mail you might be interested in. A friend of mine is an assistant editor at a small press that’s looking for nonfiction projects. Remember how you used to go on and on about writing a book someday? This might be the day.”
“I can’t write a book in a day.”
“I meant this might be the most auspicious time to submit a book proposal. She’s accepting e-mail submissions if someone has been recommended, which you have been. By me.”
“What did you tell her I was writing?”
“Something great. I didn’t go into any more detail than that. Just sit down and start with stream of consciousness and see what you come up with, what areas interest you. You’ve got this small-town regeneration research going.”
“Yes, but I’m planning to submit that to a professional journal.”
“Well, just try brainstorming other subjects within your field that interest you.”
Jake interested her. What made someone take the risks he had? What made someone an adrenaline junkie? An hour later she’d written several pages of notes, filled with more questions than answers.
Across the street in Nick’s Tavern, Jake had more questions than answers too. Why did women freak out when you least expect it? Why had Emma practically tossed him out of her apartment?
It wasn’t because she hadn’t enjoyed their kisses. So what was the problem?
He really didn’t need a distraction like her right now. He should be thinking about finding his birth mother. She held the answers to who he was. Or so he hoped. No, hope wasn’t in his vocabulary. He just wanted the facts. Why had she given him away? Who was his father? Jake’s near-death experience on the mountain in Peru made him question everything, including who he was. Some answers were beyond his reach—like why Andy died in that avalanche and not him. But this, finding his birth mother, this was an answer he could pin down.
Jake was much more accustomed to wondering about the external things in his life. Was this snowboard faster than the previous one? Was this mountain route tougher than another? Was this trick more difficult than the last, this endeavor more challenging?
Jake looked up from the glass he was wiping clean to see Emma’s mom climbing onto a bar stool.
“Hel
lo, Jake.”
Had Emma sent her mom after him? No, she’d never do that. Emma probably didn’t even know her mom was here.
Maxie said, “I’d like a Diet Coke—”
“With a slice of lime, right?”
She beamed at him. “Right. How nice of you to remember.” She looked around. “The tavern isn’t busy this time of day.”
“It’s early yet.” The place was empty aside from Old Mo. Every weekday the grumpy old geezer sat in the far corner working the newspaper crossword puzzle while nursing a glass of beer for two or three hours.
“This gives us a chance to talk,” Maxie said. “I didn’t get to speak to you at my daughter’s reception. I know that you and Emma left before the conga line started.”
“I’m not much of a dancer.”
“I find that hard to believe, a muscular athlete like you. You do know that Emmitt Smith, the football player, became a championship dancer on Dancing with the Stars, right?”
“I must have missed that.”
“They even called him Twinkletoes.”
Jake, aka Slayter the Slayer, had no intention of being called Twinkletoes in this lifetime or any other.
“You do know that before we moved down to Florida, I was a hairdresser here in town, right?”
Did he know that? Had Emma mentioned it? He wasn’t sure so he just agreed with Maxie.
“Right.”
“Well, in small towns like this your hairdresser knows everything. Granted, most of my customers were collecting Social Security, but I still picked things up. Information. I’ve told my daughter that I could help her with her study about Rock Creek, but she turned me down. I was thinking that maybe you could talk to her.”
Hairdressers. Knew everything. Emma might not need Maxie’s help, but Jake could sure use it.
“So did you know Zoe, Lulu’s mom?”
“Zoe hasn’t been back in Rock Creek for a long time.”
“Right.” He knew the year she’d left. The investigator had been able to get that much info on her.
She’d gone to Cleveland, Chicago, and they’d lost track of her in Toronto. But he was more interested in Zoe’s life before she left Rock Creek. Like thirty years ago—the year he was born and the year she’d first left town.