by Lyz Kelley
Rachelle set the pen down, her hands sliding back into her lap.
Jacob picked up the napkin and turned it around for everyone at the table to see. Etch held out her hand with her fingers wiggling. Jacob gave the drawing and pen to Sketch, who passed it along.
Etch scratched her head, then stared off into a distance.
Etch popped the lid off the pen. “May I?” The pen hovered over the napkin.
“Sure,” Rachelle responded.
Within a few swipes of the pen, weapons appeared. If Rachelle hadn’t drawn the warrior, she wouldn’t be able to tell where her lines ended and Etch’s began.
A feeling of camaraderie sent shivers up her arms, and the fine hairs on her arms stood up to celebrate. Belonging. Being part of something big filled her soul. She hadn’t known how empty she was until this moment. She studied each person at the table, memorizing their smiles, friendly expressions, and creative camaraderie they’d shown her. She’d remember every nuance.
Etch finished and held up the revised drawing.
“Now, that’s what I call one kick-ass bitch. I wouldn’t mess with her,” Etch let a smile slip into place.
“I’ll get her digi’d,” Drew added.
Sketch grabbed the napkin. “You got your peacock.”
Jacob shifted and faked a cough. “Yo, Earth to Gamers.”
“Oh, sorry, boss.” Sketch turned to Jacob. “Etch has wanted to design a female with peacock coloring; you know purples, greens, blues. We just never had a design that worked until now.” Her pupils dilated with excitement. “Give Etch twenty-four hours, and she’ll have a model we can play with.”
“I keep telling you, man.” Drew pointed. “You’d better get Rach signed up, fast. We need her on the team.”
“Well, how about it?” The look on Jacob’s face was hopeful.
She’d get to draw, create every day. How cool was that?
Something in her held back.
Designing games. Was this the career path she was meant to follow? And what about Jacob?
He had expectations.
Should she get in a relationship now, when she was still trying to figure things out? Was pleasing him the only reason she thought about accepting the job? What about her needs? She’d lose herself in the relationship. Jacob could be all-consuming. If she didn’t take the time to figure out who she wanted to be, instinct told her she’d never get another chance.
The praise heated the nape of her neck. “I a...I need to think about it?”
“What’s there to think about?” Sketch’s expression was curious, but there was a little dose of tension in the question.
Good thing the waitress arrived with platefuls of food to flick off the spotlight. She needed to come up with an answer. Fast.
When everyone settled again, Jacob picked up his fork and turned to her. “You don’t want to be part of the design team?”
“I’d love to, but there are a few things back home I need to settle first. I’ll help any way I can, but I need you to give me some time.”
Drew shoved a wad of omelet in his mouth. “Give her a month,” he mumbled around the eggs, spinach, and feta.
“A month?” Etch shook her head. “A week.”
“How about split the difference. Two weeks.” Sketch winked at Rachelle.
“Guys.” Jacob’s hand caressing her knee beneath the table felt incredibly good, so good she forgot to chew. “This is Rachelle’s decision. Let’s give her some time.” A slow smile crept across his mouth, and he got the look she’d seen before in his eyes. “How about we give her until the end of the day?” He twirled the fork in his hand over the back of his thumb and caught it again. “Just kidding.” He laughed.
Everyone at the table joined in, even her.
Hiking to the top of the mountain and looking out over the vast vistas of the Rockies couldn’t feel better than this moment did.
She felt needed, wanted, for the first time in years.
The feeling was addictive.
If only she could say yes.
Chapter Seventeen
Jacob stood on his back deck and let the soft breeze from the ocean cool his skin. Unfortunately, the sparkling stars didn’t stop his aching erection from reminding him how much he wanted Rachelle.
After the lunch meeting she became quiet, distant. They spent hours walking along the Imperial Beach pier, watching the waves crash into the white sand and beach lovers enjoying the sun. Rachelle offered some sporadic conversation about people, places, and dreams, but she’d been distracted, deep into her head.
He hadn’t. He’d been paying close attention—watching each change of expression.
Watching the moon, he could still remember the sun streaming down on her blond curls, her skin turning pink in the sun, her glorious smile. He loved experiencing her childlike need to indulge in sugar-coated nuts, collect seashells, and sit on a rock to watch kites fly. Unearthing each nuance made him want to spend more time with her.
After taking a shower, he went down to check on her and found her sprawled facedown on her bed asleep. If he touched her, she would respond to the inevitable. His body belonged to her. And she responded to his need. He could have awakened her with a stroke on her arm or a light kiss on her forehead, but then she might have assumed he just wanted sex.
He didn’t just want sex. He wanted her heart, yet she would only give him what she thought he wanted. If she only had an inkling how much he simply wanted her in his life. She colored his black and white world and made him want things he hadn’t known were absent until she came along.
He had seen her hesitation—the pain in her eyes reminding him her past still chained her heart.
Time. It would take time for her to realize he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize—
Arms wrapped around his waist, inviting his thoughts to indulge in her warmth.
“I fell asleep.”
Her voice was soft, gentle against the quiet of the night.
“There were so many things I wanted to show you. I overdid it a little today.”
Her laughter vibrated against his skin. “It was a nonstop day. My feet couldn’t take any more walking.”
“You said you didn’t know the real me. I wanted to show you the places I love and let you experience the real geek.”
“I like the geek.” Her fingers slid across his chest, and she tightened her hold, placing sweet kisses on his back. “It’s the most fun I’ve ever had.”
“The most fun?” He closed his eyes to indulge in the incredible feeling.
“The most fun. If I bundled up all the fun I ever had before today, it still wouldn’t have come close.”
He turned and touched her bare arm.
Bad move. Seeing her pink T-shirt and white lace panties erected a tent in his nylon shorts and fired up his groin. He ignored his aching need and smoothed back her hair, then cupped her sweet, adorable face.
“We’re good together—you and I.”
She laid her head on his chest, released a long sigh, and tightened her arms around his back. Her form pressed and molded against his body. He could feel her nipples, hard and pointed, wanting attention.
Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the early morning air. Her warm breath skidded across the surface of his skin. He lifted the back of her shirt, letting his fingers cruise across her skin.
“You’re getting cold. I feel goose bumps.”
She dragged her teeth across his nipple.
He gasped.
“I’m not cold.” Her voice sounded sensual, aroused.
“God, woman, how I want you,” he whispered, pulling her tight against his erection. “Can’t you tell?”
“What are you going to do about it?”
He clenched his teeth, then eased his jaw muscles. “Nothing,” he whispered, then leaned back and kissed her forehead. “I told you before. What happens between us is your decision.”
However, his hands had different ideas
. His fingers slid around her sides, across her skin to caress her breasts. For a second, she didn’t move, then dropped her head back, thrusting her enticing softness against him, shoulders to knees. He closed his eyes, letting his fingers see and feel the slope and lines of her body.
He pressed his groin against her again to make sure she understood his need. He wanted her. Needed her.
“What if I demanded you take me—any way you want—right now?”
He squeezed her breast, unable to control his reaction. “I’d have to think about your motives. Is domination what you truly want? Or is it the only thing you know?”
She drew a line down his torso with her fingertip. “Before I was always the one in control. I never trusted anyone.”
He slipped his hand underneath the elastic of her panties to touch her sweet spot. “Is this truly what you want?”
“Yes.”
The immediate response gave him a jolt. He let his fingers play. “What else?”
“That’s for you to decide,” she replied in a sultry whisper, all the while dragging her hands over his lower abs to dip in and out of his waistband.
He closed his eyes and hissed when her fingers touched him and made him jerk his eyes open. She withdrew the pressure. His engorged hard-on begged for her fingers to explore, stroke, love.
She moaned, and he leaned in to suck on her neck.
“I want you, Jacob. I want this. But only with you.”
He yanked her to him, hard. And there it was, the fear she couldn’t hide.
“You don’t trust me yet.”
“It’s not you.” She turned to look out at the horizon. “I don’t want to be scared anymore. I need to put my past behind me. It’s just…”
“Can you talk about what happened?”
She coiled inward, crossing her arms, shutting him out. “No.” She reached for his arm. “Please understand. I need to protect you.”
“Me?” What the hell? Understanding began to surface. “Your dad. He didn’t—”
“No.” Her grip tightened. “No, but there are still some loose ends with my dad. If I tell you, you’ll be involved, and I don’t want anyone I care about tainted by my father.”
She cares about me.
Then she refused to meet his gaze, looking down and rolling her feet to the outside edges, biting her lip.
A welling of hatred for the men who made this beautiful and strong and glorious woman into a wounded bird made him want to break something.
“Your father’s in jail. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
She shook her head.
“He’s not in jail?”
When she looked at him, her eyes were shimmering with tears. “My father is in jail, but he has connections on the outside. There are powerful men connected to him who are still free. If I do what my dad wants, I’ll be okay.”
“He wants to control you, even from behind bars.”
The thought of someone hurting her made him break out in a sweat. “I promise you, Rachelle, if anyone—and I mean anyone—tries to hurt you, I’ll make sure they never walk again.”
“No. See, that’s why I can’t let you get involved. These men…no, I can’t talk about this.”
“Yes you can. You can tell me, and I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
“Please, Jacob.” She shook her head and started backing away.
He reached for her hand. “Don’t. Don’t shut me out.” But she already had. Until she felt safe—she wouldn’t be able to be with him fully.
The wind picked up and blew through her hair, lifting the tender ends. She was so strong, yet so fragile. Until she was able to box the hurt and fear and store it away, she would forever guard her heart. Her father would always be there, preventing her from living the life she deserved.
A heavy sigh released some of the hormones romping through his system. “Rachelle. Look at me.”
Her eyes slowly lifted to meet his, and she brushed away the tears.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Every time you look around, I’ll be here to support you.” He put an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go in. You’re getting cold.”
She nodded, and they slowly made their way inside.
After he closed the door, he turned toward the couch.
She hesitated. “We’re not going upstairs?”
“In about an hour the sun will rise. I thought we could watch it together, unless you would rather sleep.”
“But your charity event is this afternoon.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. What do you say? Will you stay with me?”
Chapter Eighteen
Jacob brought Rachelle a throw from the hall closet, then went to heat some water for the herbal tea she bought at one of the many booths they passed during the day.
She burrowed under the throw, doing her best to regain her composure. Talking about her Dad had thrown her off-balance. Every time she thought he was in the rearview mirror, he virtually popped up again in her passenger seat and scared the holy bejesus out of her.
The mirror above the fireplace reflected her reality. Scared. Vulnerable. A little girl who wanted to be the strong, independent woman she had pretended to be in her formative years.
She closed her eyes and indulged in a dramatic sigh. In her heart she wanted to be the woman Jacob perceived her to be. Brave. Talented. Giving.
Could she let go, stop pretending, and just be herself?
If she fell back into the rut, she’d never been able to climb back out again. But how could she show Jacob her true self when she still didn’t know who she was to begin with?
She craved his touch. Every ounce of her being desired what he longed to give and share freely with her.
The name of the last man who left her bed without a backward glance had long ago been forgotten. Jacob cared about her feelings.
He listened.
And for that reason, she loved him.
Oh, God. I love him.
Every nerve came alive, glittering in response.
She studied him while he hovered over the teakettle, waiting for the water to boil. His broad, bare back rippled whenever he moved. Board shorts hung low on his narrow hips. He was beautiful. A painted canvas, with bold lines, and in the shadows was a delicate softness. Even his hair, normally worn in a state of wild and wavy, softened and glowed under the kitchen lights.
His need to protect was gallant, in a gentle way.
She snuggled a little deeper into the throw when he approached with her tea. Mint and chamomile wafted around them and soothed her senses.
He turned the chaise lounge next to the couch toward the window. “There. We can watch the sunrise from here.” He extended a hand to help her rise.
“C’mere,” he walked with her over to the creamy leather lounge, settled, and made room for her between his legs. “You still look cold.”
She climbed in between his legs, then he settled the throw around them.
She turned her head to listen to the beat of his heart. The bold, steady rhythm eased her muscles, and she adjusted her position. His legs and chest perfectly framed hers. He crossed his arms around her waist. “The sunrise should begin any minute. See the changes in the sky?”
“It’s a magical time when both the stars and the sun coexist and allow each to live for a few more minutes before the other takes over.”
“Is that how you see the world? Some element in the world must dominate the other? Why can’t people be equals? Both living where needs and desires meet.”
“That scenario doesn’t exist. It goes against our ingrained survival instinct to dominate everything around us.”
He grunted his disapproval, yet there wasn’t any anger or disappointment. He simply disagreed. “Your point of view might be tainted.” His thumb continued to doodle a circle on her skin. “When two people trust each other—respect each other—there isn’t the need to put up protective shields.”
> “What you’re implying is two people can coexist peacefully in the same space if love is part of the equation.”
His small circular movement stopped. “I didn’t say anything about love. My Dad tells Ben and me he loves us a lot, but deep down there is no respect. No trust. No, I believe if two people respect each other, no matter what their opinions are, then coexistence happens.”
She let the concepts settle in the same way Dempsey circled his bed, scratching and pulling at the fleece before collapsing on a single spot.
She tipped her head back to look at his face. “Do you respect me, Jacob?”
He didn’t answer her for a second or two, and her heartbeat stalled. He reached for her arm and brought her hand to his mouth, pressing it against her skin. “There’s only one person in my life I’ve even admired more, and that’s my mom.”
Hope and thankfulness fluttered up from her core. “I respect you too.”
And she did. If only she could figure out a way to control her irrational fears. She resolved as of that moment to reconcile with her past so she could start fresh.
“That’s a good start, don’t you think?”
“A good start.”
He leaned closer, seeking her mouth. Rachelle held her breath. Her heart pounded in her ears. She reached for his stubbled face, liking the scrape against her skin, willing him to kiss her longer.
He created that little spark again. He felt right, good. Nothing in the kiss was fake. What she and Jacob shared was one-hundred-percent au naturel. She’d fought hard, but couldn’t resist him any longer. His lips persisted, drawing out the kiss.
She turned to her side to give him more.
When he finally released her, he ran his fingertips through her hair and rested his forehead against hers. “I love the way you taste.”
“It’s my tea.”
“I don’t think so. I could kiss you until morning.”
Her mind, still spinning from the kiss, couldn’t think of any way to respond. He must have taken her silence as reluctance, because he started pulling away.
She slid her hand around the back of his neck and gently drew him closer, hoping, praying he’d give her another chance. “Kiss me again, Jacob.”