by Sami Lee
In retrospect, Jake had to admit kissing Libby was a bad idea. Not that he’d thought it through at all before he’d done it. But there she’d been in her slinky green and white dress, the annoyance furrowing her brow making her look so damn cute, and he’d lost his head for a second.
Libby ran up a tidy sum at the counter buying an assortment of ties and a couple of extra shirts to go with the suit—apparently Peony was footing the bill for all purchases by reimbursing Image Solutions. Then, with the saleswoman’s disapproving stare burning into their backs, they exited the store. Libby left like the place was on fire. From her staccato strides, Jake figured she’d recovered from her momentary descent into hedonism and was now berating the crap out of herself for how she’d responded to his kiss.
Like a woman full of fire and a sense of adventure. Damn. He was still semi-hard thinking about it. Libby Allison was a firecracker underneath that cute, slightly uptight exterior. What a massive turn on that was.
Jake followed Libby, catching up to her short strides with relative ease. “For the record, I don’t think whatever happened in there was entirely one-sided.”
“You mean when you yanked me into the dressing room, pulled me against you and kissed me?” She flashed him a look from narrowed eyes. “You think I wanted you to do that?”
Apparently, she was already over berating herself and had moved on to blaming him. Jake’s hackles stood to attention. “You did check me out while I was undressing. How do you expect a red-blooded man to respond to that?”
“I did not check you out. It was an involuntary eye spasm or something. Bare flesh draws the gaze no matter what, like an accident on the motorway. You know it won’t be pretty, but you can’t help but look.”
Ouch. The boost his ego had received from her enthusiastic response to his kiss deflated like a popped balloon. “You ought to know about that. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d caused a few road accidents yourself.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, you’re a sucky driver.”
Pursing her lips, she faced forward again. Jake felt lower than the low for snapping out his completely-unrelated-to-the-subject-at-hand opinion like that, but she had likened sighting his bare chest to stumbling upon a traffic accident. It kind of pissed him off.
“I don’t really care what you think of my driving. I just want this day to be over and I don’t—” she stopped walking and pointed a finger at his chest, “—I repeat, I do not want you to kiss me like that again.”
“Yeah? So how is it you like to be kissed, chickadee?” Jake knew he was taunting her, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. The flash of fury in her blue-gold eyes and the rapid rise and fall of her chest aroused him. The press of her index finger into his left pectoral, right over his heart, was almost as hot as a cigarette burn. Jesus, what was happening? She was royally ticked off and he still couldn’t get his blood to cool. “You only kiss after a decent meal and a ride home? You prefer a guy who waits to be invited? If so, you’ve got the wrong bloke.”
“That’s obvious. Have you ever heard of politeness? Gentility?”
“I’ve heard of them. I just don’t think women really want their men polite.”
“Oh my goodness. You are such a pig.” Libby threw back her head and half laughed, half groaned. The pose drew Jake’s attention to the pale flesh of her throat, and farther down to the enticing shadow of her cleavage.
Maybe she was right. Perhaps he was a pig.
Since she thought he was swine anyway, Jake figured he might as well go the whole hog, so to speak. He took a step forward, into her personal space, and lifted a finger to trace a line along her jawbone. Her skin was soft, and the delicate drift of her floral-scented perfume teased his nostrils. “Face it, honey. You liked that I didn’t ask. You liked that I took what I wanted instead of pussy-footing around.”
The crimson stain in her cheeks told Jake he was on the money, even though Libby would probably die before admitting it. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Swallowing, she took a step back, away from him, and bumped into a rack of children’s clothes on display in front of the nearest shop. She scowled when Jake couldn’t hide his amusement. “Just don’t do it again.”
Jake held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Whatever you want. I won’t kiss you in any more dressing rooms. I swear.”
With a growl of frustration, Libby swung on her heel and headed off through the mall once more, all business again. “You’ll need something casual to wear as well.” Her words came out like bullets from a gun, as fast and precise as her footsteps. “Something for radio.”
“I need to dress for radio—are you kidding?”
Libby shot him a narrow-eyed glare. “The hosts will see you. Maybe take pictures and load them on the station’s Facebook page. It’s all good cross promotion.”
“Let me guess, your degree is in marketing.”
“Do I sense disapproval in your tone?”
“Nope. Merely making an observation.”
“Yeah, right.”
Jake thought about telling her the truth of his own background. That he’d earned a degree in strategic management and had worked as a consultant for a major firm for most of his early twenties, right up until he quit two and a half years ago at the age of twenty-seven. He knew about business and on some level did understand all the stuff she’d been reciting about image and cross promotion. He understood it, but he didn’t like it—not when applied to him. This was his life they were dealing with, not an ad campaign. He didn’t want all the hoopla surrounding the book to get out of control.
He pulled back on offering the explanations. For one thing, he didn’t owe her any. For another, it might lead him to talk about what made him quit the high life the way he did, and he hardly wanted to talk with Libby about his dad’s illness and his fiancé’s disloyalty.
Lastly, there was a remote chance his degree and business experience might impress Libby. He didn’t want to impress her that way. With his lips and hands, however…he wouldn’t mind making his impression on her with those. From that kiss in the change room, Jake figured they were off to a good start.
If only she didn’t hate him quite so much.
“Listen, Libby,” he began, injecting a conciliatory tone into his voice. “I probably owe you an apology.”
She arched a perfectly plucked brow at him. “Probably?”
“All right, I do. Kissing you the way I did was out of line.”
Her strides slowed and she half turned to face him. Her expression was cautiously suspicious, her words careful. “Okay. Apology accepted.”
“I should have waited until we’d finished shopping. I know this is technically your workplace, so that’s my bad.”
Her jaw actually dropped, a half laugh spilling from her throat. “You are incredible.”
“Aw, thanks, hon.” He winked. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I didn’t mean it as a compliment. Jeez.”
Jake stifled a chuckle. Man, she really was cute when she was steamed. “So what’s next? Casual clothes, right? I promise I’ll let you dress me, chickadee.”
And undress me if you like. Any time you want.
As though she read the unspoken words in his eyes, Libby’s cheeks flushed. She seemed to be holding her breath when she pointed to a nearby shopfront and spoke in slow, enunciated tones. “I’m going in there to see somebody. Wait here. Do not follow me. Do not ditch me. Just wait. Can you do that?”
Jake shrugged. “Sure. I’m easygoing.”
With another one of those half chuckles and a shake of her head, Libby turned and walked into what looked like some kind of salon. Making an appointment for a pedicure or something most likely. Libby looked like the type who enjoyed pedicures. Jake had noticed the purple polish on her toes. It made him wonder what it would be like to kiss each one of those toes. Was she ticklish?
Christ. He was fantasizing about her feet now. Weird, McCall
um. Very weird.
* * * *
Libby exited Infinity Design after giving Armarnd Derulio, one of Brisbane’s top hair design experts, a head’s up about what he was going to face tomorrow when she bought Jake in for his appointment. She looked around, not immediately spotting Jake. Had he ditched her after all? She wouldn’t put it past him. He was the most aggravating, confounding man she’d ever met.
Who happened to also be a hell of a kisser.
She shook the thought off because it made her lips tingle with remembered heat and her brain feel like it was going to explode with frustration. Yes, she had responded to that kiss. It had been unexpected. She hadn’t had time to erect any defenses against his skilled lips and devilish tongue. Responding had been pure instinct. She could be forgiven for that, surely?
Maybe not. Maybe Jake’s intolerable arrogance about the whole thing was her punishment for giving in to purely physical delight. You’re not so bad yourself. Pfft.
At last, Libby saw Jake. He was waving at her from a table at a nearby coffee outlet, his grin both boyish and manly, a difficult combination to pull off. Pushing out a sigh, Libby headed over there, thinking that despite those wide shoulders, hard muscles and the shadow of stubble on his jaw, Jake McCallum was at least ninety-eight-percent boy. And the part that was man wasn’t one she was going to get acquainted with. It simply wouldn’t be smart.
He stood when she approached and the show of manners threw her. “I’m starved and I figured you might be too, so I ordered some sandwiches.”
Libby narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what his agenda was. “You ordered for me?”
“You seem to be in a hurry, so I didn’t think you’d want to waste time. Toasted cheese is okay I hope?”
Ordinarily, Libby stuck with salads for lunch, but the very mention of a hot toasted sandwich oozing with melted cheese made her stomach roar in anticipation. “You should have let me pay.” Libby took the seat opposite Jake. “It’s a business expense for me.”
Jake rolled his eyes as he once again sat. “It’s a gesture, Libby. I was trying to do something nice. You’d better take it before my mood changes.”
“You were trying to be nice to me?”
“I am capable of that, you know. I’m not a complete Neanderthal.” He drew his brows down over his eyes in a pretty good imitation of early man. “Me big jerk. Me hunt food for you to seek forgiveness.”
Libby couldn’t help it. She laughed. Immediately, she sobered, determined not to let her defenses down so readily. That seemed very, very dangerous around Jake. “Well, I am hungry. It was a nice thought.”
“Careful. You almost relaxed there for a minute.”
He smiled and Libby had to fight not to respond in kind. He was attractive when he was being a grouchy pain in the ass. When he was grinning and being uncharacteristically self-deprecating, he was mesmerizing. Libby made a mental note not to stare at him too long.
“Honestly, though,” Jake went on. “I’ve been acting like a prick all morning, when all you’ve been trying to do is your job. I’m sorry, chickadee. It’s not you—it’s me.”
Libby laughed again. “Is that the title of the sequel?”
“Sequel?” He blinked. “There’s no sequel. I’m not a writer.”
“Well, there’s the small matter of you having written a book. That doesn’t make you a writer?”
“Nope. That was a weird accident.”
Libby raised her brows. “You accidently fell onto a computer keyboard, and a word document just happened to be open?”
“Hey look, she’s a smartass,” Jake remarked with a grin. “I like it.”
Someone at the counter called out Jake’s name and he hopped up to fetch their order, leaving Libby to wrestle with the odd rush of pleasure Jake’s joking admiration had engendered. He’d called her a smartass and her girly zones were pulsing in response. That was plain ridiculous.
Jake returned and set a plastic cup full of orange slush and her cheese sandwich in front of her. “I got you one of these mango frappe things too. I thought it seemed like your style.”
Libby was caught between being annoyed by his presumptuousness and being overjoyed at the sight of the fruity drink. She took a sip from the straw and sighed in pleasure. She loved these things, but sort of hated that Jake thought she was so predictable. In the end, manners won out. “Thank you. It’s delicious.”
He grinned, looking overtly pleased with himself. “Glad I finally did something right.”
He waited while she took a bite of her sandwich before tucking into his, and once again his civility surprised her. Maybe she’d hit a nerve with her accusation that he possessed no gentility. Between mouthfuls, Libby mused, “You realize this is what you should be like, don’t you?”
“How do you mean?”
“On your media tour. You need to show people this man, the man who can be courteous, modest and charming when he sets his mind to it.”
One dark brow lifted over a twinkling green eye. “Charming?”
He would focus on that. “I mean it. Women will buy your book if they see you as a reasonable, intelligent individual who cares about other people.”
They’d probably come to his book signings in droves, wearing low-cut tops and throwing him their phone number. Jake McCallum was good looking, funny, available and a damn good kisser. Once the spotlight swung around to focus on him, he wouldn’t stay available for long. The thought brought with it a little niggle of disappointment that Libby absolutely refused to acknowledge.
“I suppose.” Jake shrugged. “Could we talk about something else for a while?”
“Why the reluctance to talk about your book—this happy accident, as you call it?”
“I never said happy,” he groused. “I think the whole thing is stupid.”
Libby nibbled on another bite of her toasted sandwich. “How so? You wrote a book. Isn’t that kind of a big deal?”
Jake pushed out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. He hooked his hands behind his head, the pose stretching the cotton of his T-shirt across his chest. Libby took another quick gulp of her mango frappe. It was difficult to concentrate on how offensive the shirt’s invective on marriage was when it was plastered to his muscles like that.
At length, Jake explained. “When I started dating again—”
“Again?”
He looked none too pleased that she’d picked up on that. “I took a break.”
Libby sensed he was hedging with his response but didn’t press him for a more in-depth explanation. If he didn’t want to talk about it, she couldn’t make him. She wasn’t interested in Jake’s past love life anyway. “Go on.”
“When I got back into the dating scene, it seemed like every date I went on was a disaster from start to finish. I used to write my sister these emails about it—she was living up in Bundaberg at the time—and she encouraged me to start a blog. I guess she thought I was entertaining. She said I could be anonymous—I was JT Bachelor, in case you were wondering. Angela said I might even make a little money through advertising. So I did it for something to do, really. It was fun and people seemed to like it. I got a lot of comments and hits, the advertising revenue went up and up. It just sorta happened.”
“And you sent a publishing proposal to Peony?”
“They came to me actually. Got wind of the blog somehow and saw something in it, I guess.”
So his blog must have been really popular. Given the size of his ego—which had been in fine form a short while ago after that impudent kiss—Libby wondered why he was being so modest about his writing achievements. “Do you still have the blog?”
“Nah. As part of the deal, Peony took it over. One of their internet gurus uses it to promote the book.”
Libby made a mental note to check it out later, then she wondered why she should. You’re not interested in Jake, remember? Just making polite conversation here. “So that’s great, isn’t it? You’re a success.”
His brows hun
kered down over his green eyes. “I already was a success. I’m a good mechanic, heir to the family business. I do all right.”
“I never said there was anything wrong with being a mechanic.”
His eyes narrowed. “Right.”
Libby suppressed a sigh of impatience. She hadn’t tried to disparage his job, merely point out that he’d achieved something as a writer. “Do you know what my mother does for a living? She’s a faith healer. She reads auras and heals back pain with crystals. I lived in hemp overalls until I was twelve years old. I only ever owned one pair of shoes at a time, and they usually had holes in them. If you think I’m a snob, you’re no judge of character and have no business judging women for the way they behave.”
After her little tirade, Libby took a vicious bite of her lunch and masticated it to death. She sensed Jake’s focus upon her and forced herself to meet his gaze. There was that expression again, the one that almost reminded her of approval. She really wished he’d stop staring at her like that. Libby hated the way she liked it so much.
“Okay. I’m sorry I thought you were a snob.” He leaned forward and picked up the second half of his sandwich. “So how about brothers and sisters—you have any?”
“It was only me and my mum.” Libby surprised herself by adding the next detail, the one she rarely revealed. “My dad left around the time I got difficult.”
“When was that?”
“About two and a half years of age. Apparently, I was quite willful and prone to temper.”
“You? Nah.”
His slow grin took the edge off the mockery. Those recalcitrant tingles chased themselves all through her body again. The man’s smile ought to be registered as a lethal weapon. “I won’t apologize for pushing you around. I’m only doing my job.”
“I know. And I’m going to let you do it from now on, I swear.” Jake crossed a finger over his heart to make his point. “I mean, all the better to get it over with, right?”
“Right.” Libby took the last bite of her sandwich and had to force herself to swallow over the sudden tightness in her throat. Of course he wanted to get this over with. He didn’t enjoy spending time with her any more than she liked having her morning wasted arguing with him. The sooner this job was finished, the sooner she would see the back of Jake McCallum and his chauvinistic attitude.