Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed?

by Jami Davenport

  “So, what’s a bad boy like you doing at my table?” She tossed another brilliant smile his way.

  “Waiting for the sexiest woman in this bar to notice me.” His voice sounded hoarse; must be all the cigarette smoke.

  Placing her hands on the tabletop, she leaned down to peer at him. He stared down her dress at her cleavage and forgot how to speak the English language.

  “Has she noticed you yet?”

  “Appears so,” he croaked and sat back in his chair to put a little distance and sanity between them. Harlee slid into the chair next to him and poured a beer from the pitcher on the table. She crossed her shapely legs and her dress crept up her thighs. Jake stared. Blood pounded in his veins.

  “When did you get here?” She cocked her head at him. One lock of honey-blonde hair fell over her eye. She tucked it behind her ear.

  “Looks like you’ve been enjoying yourself.” Oh man. He sounded irritated. Even possessive.

  She cast a surprised look at his face. He refused to meet her eyes and concentrated on the label on his beer instead. Interesting, they brewed it on the island at a microbrewery. Yeah, as if he really cared.

  “I had a great time dancing. Dave dances like a pro.”

  “No surprise. He used to moonlight as a Chippendale.”

  “He did?” Her eyes sought Dave in the crowd. Jake frowned. That’d backfired.

  “No, I was kidding,” he grouched.

  “I would’ve believed it. Imagine him in a G-string, his buff body all greased up.” At Jake’s miffed expression, she started laughing. “Jake Reynolds. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you were jealous. Have you ever moonlighted as a Chippendale?” She giggled and hiccupped.

  “Hell, no. I didn’t have time for it. I went to college full-time, played football, and worked as a bouncer on weeknights.”

  Harlee scooted her chair closer to his. “Have I ever told you how sexy I find football players?”

  “Uh, no. I don’t think it’s ever come up.”

  “What position did you play?” She brought up her hand to touch his cheek then quickly jerked it away.

  “I…uh…” Forgot the question? He shook his head to clear the carnal cobwebs. Damn. Women didn’t usually blow his senses out of orbit like she did. “I played tight end.”

  “That’s appropriate.” Harlee hiccupped again and broke into another fit of giggles.

  His mouth could’ve doubled as a fly trap. He clamped it shut and gathered his composure. She’d pay for that. Jake leaned closer. Two could dance this tango. “Are you coming onto me, Harlee?”

  She didn’t back down. “Do you want me to?”

  He choked on his beer. Jeez. She’d drunk way too much, courtesy of his crew. One of those bastards had planned to get lucky tonight with his inebriated Goldilocks. Even worse, their behavior obligated him to be honorable and see to it that she arrived home unscathed. The unscathed part included him. She’d regret this in the morning. He knew she would, and oddly enough, he never wanted to be a regret of hers.

  The band started again. Harlee staggered to her feet, giggling even more. At least she was a happy drunk. “Dance with me, Jake.” She tugged on his arm with one hand and swigged beer with the other.

  “Harlee, maybe it’s time for you to go home. Sober up a little.” Jake pried her fingers off the beer glass and sat it on the table.

  “I’m just fine. I don’t want to go home. I want to dance. With you. You’ve ignored me all night,” she pouted.

  Hardly. “Sit down. Mellow a little.”

  “No. If you don’t want to dance, Dave will.”

  Okay, that was it. He’d keep her by his side the rest of the night. She’d drunk too much to throw her back to the wolves. Besides, this wolf didn’t want to share her.

  Jake guided Harlee to the dance floor. She bumped against him then clung to his waist for support. Turning into him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He bit back a moan. This was going to be one long, torturous night.

  “Do you always get like this when you’re drunk?”

  “Like what?” Standing on tiptoes, she stared in his eyes.

  “Amorous.”

  “Amorous. I like that word. Is that a fancy word for horny?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then I’m amorous.” She slid a hand down his spine, as if counting every vertebrae. “I know I shouldn’t, but I want you, Jake.”

  “You don’t. Not really. You’re just drunk.”

  “I’m not so drunk that I don’t know what I want.”

  “Baby, I think you are, and I don’t want it to be that way.”

  “What if I do?”

  They had more in common than he’d realized. This time, he’d be the man he wanted to be. The only thing she’d regret in the morning would be a hangover. As much as he hated being noble, he knew he didn’t have an option—if he wanted to live with himself.

  Chapter 7—The Hangover

  Harlee’s head throbbed as if she’d stuck it inside a subwoofer as bass-heavy music beat through it. Add that to the dry mouth and her queasy stomach, and it spelled one thing.

  Hangover.

  She’d drunk herself into a giggly stupor the night before. Unfortunately, regardless of the haze, she remembered everything she said and did. Between Jake and her, one of them had behaved admirably, and it hadn’t been her.

  Oh my God. She’d tormented him all the way home. She’d alternated between seducing his hot bod and chastising him about the camp. He’d threatened to tie her up with the seatbelt, and she’d challenged him to do just that.

  She’d plead dumb blonditis. Or develop amnesia. Or…

  She heard a knock and groaned. Please, oh please, don’t let that be Jake. She didn’t want to face his fury or her shame.

  Throwing on a bathrobe, she stumbled to the door. Mariah strode past her without waiting for an invitation to enter. Harlee sank into the nearest chair and watched as her capable friend brewed some coffee and brought her a cup.

  “Rye? Was I…? Did I…?”

  “Make a fool of yourself?” Mariah finished the question for her.

  Harlee nodded then took a sip of coffee. Her stomach lurched.

  “Absolutely. You probably owe Jake an apology. Are you all right? You’re turning green.” When Harlee didn’t respond, Mariah continued. “He was a perfect gentleman, though I think it killed him.” Mariah sat next to her on the couch. She studied Harlee over the rim of her cup.

  “Killed him?”

  “Well, yeah. No way in heck did he want to be good, not with you draped all over him. You hung on his every word, flattered him, and flirted with him outrageously. Really it was all quite disgusting.” Mariah wrinkled her nose.

  “Was I that bad?” Harlee’s stomach lurched.

  “Don’t you remember?”

  “I’d like to claim I don’t. I think I tried to drag him in my house after he took me home.”

  “You think you did?”

  “Okay, I know I did.”

  One of Mariah’s perfectly shaped eyebrows crept up her forehead. “And?”

  “He unlocked my front door, shoved me inside, and ran like hell.” Harlee studied her jagged fingernails with great interest.

  Mariah’s other eyebrow joined the first one. “He ran away?”

  “Yes. Am I that frightening when I’m drunk?”

  “You’re actually an amusing drunk.” Harlee winced, and Mariah laughed. “He wasn’t afraid of you, Harlee, just of himself.”

  “I hope he doesn’t think I’m a lush. I rarely drink more than one drink. I don’t know what got into me.”

  “I do.” Mariah said smugly and gave her a sly sideways glance. “I did worse than that to Rico in his SUV.”

  “You?” This Harlee had to hear.

  “Uh huh. I, uh, distracted him. He ran his SUV over the curb, across some grass, and slammed it to a stop in a deserted warehouse parking lot.”

  “You didn’t do it in his SUV?” No way c
ould she be hearing this, not from sweet, proper Mariah.

  “Well, the windows were tinted,” Mariah said primly.

  “Mariah, I’m impressed. You are a naughty girl under that princess exterior.”

  “Only with Rico. With the right man, so many things are possible. I’ve done things I’ve never dreamed of doing and loved every minute.” Mariah blushed and ducked her head.

  “He adores you. I wish a guy would look at me like he looks at you.”

  Mariah lifted her eyes and regarded Harlee with a level gaze. “Jake looks at you like that.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” He was her boss, after all. Don’t fold, spindle, or seduce the boss. She mentally kicked herself for doing everything she’d sworn not to do. Almost everything.

  “Wake up, Harlee. There’s a hunger in his eyes, and it isn’t just from lust. It goes deeper than that.”

  “Not a chance.” Hope seeped into her heart. She beat it back. False hope didn’t do a girl any good. The boss thing, remember?

  “He’s fighting it.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “Yes, we do.” Mariah smiled and shook her head. “You’ve got it bad for that guy. The alcohol just brought out those feelings you’ve suppressed. I’ve never seen you like that.”

  “I’ve never seen me like that either. Not in that way.” And never with Conrad. Harlee took another sip of strong coffee. The stuff didn’t put a dent in her queasiness. “What am I going to say to him?”

  “I’m sorry, for starters.”

  “Then what? How can I work for him when I want us to screw like rabbits?”

  “You just think about it, no more.”

  “But I want it to be more.”

  “Then make it more.”

  “I can’t. He’s my boss.”

  Mariah sighed with exasperation and inspected her fingernail polish under the table lamp. “Make up your mind, Harlee.”

  “But it’s not possible.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re from two different worlds. He’s a Reynolds, and I’m named after a motorcycle.” Harlee threw her hands up in the air. “We want different things from life.”

  “How do you know that? Jake seems like a hardworking, down-to-earth guy.”

  “He is.” A smile crept across her face. “He’s so wonderful, but he’s so wrong for me. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.” Mariah skewered her with a challenging gaze.

  “I’ve sworn off gorgeous rich boys. They use you, break your heart, and move on to the next conquest without a backward glance.”

  “You speak from experience.” Mariah’s skeptical tone grated on Harlee’s nerves. She’d slipped into princess mode again.

  “One time was all it took.”

  “I see. Then why are you attracted to him if he’s so wrong?”

  Harlee struggled to find the words to answer that. “He’s kind, sweet. He respects me, and he’s got a great body.”

  “Really? How do you know that?” There went those eyebrows again.

  “It’s a long story.” No way did Harlee want to get into those details.

  “Then take care of business.” Mariah baited her with a crafty gleam in her eyes, obviously gauging her reaction.

  “I don’t dare.” Harlee sighed, not thrilled with either option.

  Mariah checked her delicate gold watch. “I hate to leave you like this, but I can’t stay. Rico’s sister called earlier. We need to fly back to L.A. this morning.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Not exactly. His father wants to get married.” Mariah sighed and rolled her eyes.

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “Not with Ed. Rico lost count after the twelfth wife.”

  “Oh my. Ed sounds like my mother. Except she didn’t marry most of her boyfriends.”

  “Well, Rico wants to talk him out of this one. None of us can stand her. At least we liked the last one.” Mariah stood and hugged Harlee. “Hang in there. Plead insanity and fake memory loss. It’s for the best.”

  “I will, believe me.”

  “And call me.”

  “I promise. We’ll keep in touch.”

  “We need to. We have Rosehill.”

  “I know.”

  After Mariah left, Harlee saddled Ferguson and took him for a ride in the woods. It was a cool, brisk fall day. The sun had put in a rare appearance. Try as she might, she couldn’t make sense of the confusion she felt. Did she have this weakness for rich boys or was Jake truly different? He didn’t have Conrad’s snobby attitude or cruel sense of humor. Yet, he did want to close down the camp without giving it a second thought.

  Her number one priority was the camp. She couldn’t lose sight of that. Jake stood in her way, and that made any kind of relationship with him near impossible, even if he didn’t employ her.

  * * * *

  The digits danced in front of Jake’s eyes and he turned his head away from the laptop screen. He rubbed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh.

  Brad walked into the room, handed him a beer, and made himself at home in the recliner.

  “Thanks, Brad. I thought you were going home.”

  Brad shrugged. “Later. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “You’re avoiding going back to Seattle. Shouldn’t you earn your salary once in a while?”

  “It’s Carson I’m avoiding. Not Seattle.”

  “Carson? What’s his problem now?”

  “His ass has been getting tighter since Dad had his heart attack. He seems to think he has to run the family business single-handedly. That includes running me, too. The weird thing is that Dad doesn’t seem to care or notice. He’s given Carson free rein.”

  “Man, I’m sorry. Carson with absolute power is a terrible thing to behold.”

  “Yeah, well, your turn will come. Don’t think because you’re out of sight, you’re out of mind.”

  Jake grinned. It was nice to see Brad on the hot seat for once. “I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. So why haven’t I seen Bridget around? Is she up to something?”

  “She always is. I guess she’s working on some Thanksgiving project for homeless people with Mom. That’ll keep her out of your hair until the end of November.”

  “I gotta keep her away from Harlee.”

  “That shouldn’t be hard. They aren’t exactly best buddies.”

  “Carson made a remark a while ago about ReynCorp being in trouble. What do you hear?”

  “I know we’re stretched pretty thin, some bad investments, a couple large developments stalled by environmentalists, that kind of thing.”

  “Could Rosehill make us or break us?”

  “If you believe Carson, it could.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. I don’t really know what to think about it. The Empire seems so invincible.” Brad rubbed his chin, took a long pull on his beer, and sat up. “I was talking to Mariah last night. Harlee doesn’t have any family, at least that she claims. Did you know that?”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.” Jake wondered where this was leading.

  “Mariah made a point of telling me because she doesn’t want Harlee alone on Thanksgiving.”

  “She can go to Mariah and Rico’s. I’ll loan her the airfare.”

  “They’re spending it with Rico’s mother in Europe.”

  “Oh.” Now Jake knew where this was leading. Damn, he didn’t want to walk across that mine field.

  “You have to ask her to join us. Don’t you think?”

  Jake knew what he thought. He’d have to do the right thing. He knew he would. That damn conscience he denied so vehemently wouldn’t expect any less.

  “Shit,” was all he said.

  “Should be an interesting Thanksgiving,” Brad commented dryly.

  “Yeah, you’ve got that right.”

  The phone rang, and Jake glanced at the display. “What else can go wrong today? It’s Mother.”

  “Time for me to beat a q
uick exit. Take care, little brother.”

  After Brad exited, Jake picked up the line and braced himself.

  “Jacob, what have you gotten Bradley into now?” He flinched at his mother’s accusation.

  “I didn’t get him into anything.”

  “Of course, you did. Your siblings always end up in trouble when they’re with you.”

  “I wasn’t aware Brad was in trouble. Or are you referring to Carson?”

  “Carson hasn’t been in trouble a day in his life, and you know it. Bradley, on the other hand, is easily led astray.”

  “Mother, I didn’t—”

  “Jacob, don’t argue with me. Grow up and quit dragging your family into your messes.” He thought he had grown up, quite a bit.

  “I didn’t know I had a mess—”

  “Brad’s been avoiding Seattle, spending way too much time in the Islands with you. I understand he was in a bar last night.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It’s not important how I know. Bradley hates bars. Unfortunately, he suffers with this misplaced notion that he needs to watch out for his younger brother.”

  Jake moaned and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Oh, the follies of youth. How long would he have to pay for all his past transgressions with his unforgiving family? He was fighting a losing battle. They blamed him for everything. Brad had been as wild as Jake in high school and college. But his older brother had mastered the fine art of brown-nosing. No matter what Brad did, he found a way to smooth it over with their parents. Jake, on the other hand, had relished rubbing his sins in their faces.

  “Your father wants to talk to you.” Oh, man, this day just got worse.

  “Jacob?”

  “Yeah, Dad.”

  “This has gone on long enough. It’s painfully obvious that we’ve indulged you too much. Quit toying around with that construction company. Get rid of it. I’ll find a place for you within the company where we can keep an eye on you.”

  “I hate desk jobs. I love what I’m doing. And I don’t need you or anyone else to keep an eye on me.” He hated the sound of his voice. He sounded about four years old. His father reduced him to that.