by Gina Wilkins
He hadn’t talked much about his accident. It must have shaken him very badly to come so close to losing his life. “You were fortunate to have recovered so quickly.”
“It doesn’t feel quick,” he muttered, watching Oscar now, who was happily exploring at the farthest reaches of his leash. “I’ve missed seven weeks of my life.”
“Seven weeks doesn’t seem so long to pay considering how bad it could have been.”
“Seven weeks is a lifetime in my line of work,” he murmured. And then he shook his head. “But you’re right, of course. I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself when I should be counting my blessings. After all, my friend lost his life in the accident. And I’m sulking because I had a few injuries.”
“Were you close to him?”
Jake hesitated a moment before answering. “We weren’t close, exactly. We knew each other a long time, from junior high school days. Saw each other a couple of times a year. I’m on the road a lot, and he traveled quite a bit in his job, too. He was divorced, had a couple of boys that he didn’t see as often as he would have liked. We got together every once in a while just to fish and catch up and remember the scrapes we got into when we were kids.”
“You’ll miss him.”
Jake sighed heavily. “Yeah. I will. I don’t have many connections to my past. No family or anything. Eric was one of my last ties to my childhood.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He pushed a hand through his damp hair, leaving it spiked around his face in a manner that was too appealing for her peace of mind. “Like I said, I was just indulging in a bout of self-pity. Weekends are the hardest days for me, but it’s time for me to stop brooding and get back to recuperating.”
She wondered if the accident had happened on a weekend, but she didn’t ask. He didn’t want to dwell on the details, and she couldn’t blame him for that. “Have you had breakfast?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Neither have I. Do you like waffles?”
She didn’t know what had prompted her to ask that question, considering that she had just vowed to spend the day avoiding him. She suspected her tender heart was leading her into trouble again. Yet when she saw the way his expression lightened, she couldn’t really be sorry.
“Who doesn’t like waffles?”
“Why don’t I make breakfast for us while you clean up?” she suggested, using her right arm to boost herself to her feet. Her sprained left arm was still somewhat sore, but much better than it had been. Compared to Jake’s ordeal, she had no reason at all to complain, she reminded herself.
They would still go their separate ways soon enough. She would still have to be careful about starting to care too much for him when the risks to her heart were so high. But in the meantime, she could be a friend to him, help him through a rough spot in his life.
Following her lead, he stood, wincing only a little when he put his weight on his left leg. She wondered how long he had been pushing himself that morning before she’d found him. She hoped he realized that there came a point of diminishing returns when it came to regaining strength through exercise.
She reached out to steady him when he seemed about to stumble, but he caught himself quickly, giving her a wry smile. They stood only a foot or so apart, their gazes locking—and holding.
Seeing that they were preparing to leave, Oscar bounded toward them, yipping excitedly and dashing around their feet. The result was that they all became entangled in the long, baby-blue leash. Trying to step out of the loop, Stacy reached out with her right hand, resting it against Jake’s chest for balance. In return, he gripped her forearm with his left hand. Both of them were laughing…
And then they weren’t.
Standing so close together that his suddenly accelerated breath brushed her cheek, they stared at each other. Jake’s smile faded. His heart beat firmly, rapidly beneath her palm. His fingers were so warm on her bare forearm that she could almost imagine he was leaving a handprint there.
It had happened so fast that it caught her unaware. She had been trying to ignore her attraction to him, and had told herself that he saw her as no more than the nice girl next door. Nothing more to it at all, she had believed.
She might have been mistaken.
Lost in the gleam of his dark eyes, she stood motionless as he lowered his head slowly toward hers. Her lips parted on their own volition. She held her breath, waiting for the first touch of his mouth to hers.
Oscar barked again, tugging at the shortened leash. Jake paused, his lips barely an inch from hers.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I almost got carried away.”
“Did you?” Her voice was slightly hoarse. She cleared her throat before asking, “How so?”
The corners of his mouth tilted into a rueful smile. “I almost kissed you.”
“That would have been…” Fabulous. Amazing. Life changing. “…a mistake.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Maybe? She cleared her throat again. “Well, obviously. I mean, you and I—we’re just…”
“Just?” He still hadn’t put any more distance between them.
“Acquaintances.”
He lifted his right hand to stroke her cheek with his fingertips. “Maybe a little more than that.”
“Friends,” she amended. “New friends.”
“Better,” he agreed. “So what’s a kiss between friends?”
“Well…”
“Just a friendly kiss,” he added, a rakish twinkle appearing in his eyes now. “A thank-you for being so nice to me.”
She supposed one kiss wouldn’t be too dangerous. Just a casual kiss. She could accept it as a gesture of appreciation from someone whose spirits she had lifted by being a friend.
And besides, a little voice inside her whispered, she would love to know what it was like to kiss Jake. Just for curiosity, of course.
She tilted her face upward.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WITH A SMILE of satisfaction, Jake swooped, his mouth covering hers before she had a chance to change her mind. Not that she would have.
His lips were firm. Warm. His short beard was surprisingly soft against her face. She had thought it would feel rough.
The hand she had rested against his chest crept upward, pausing at his shoulder and then moving around to slide into the back of his thick, shaggy hair. Taking that as permission, he wrapped her more closely in his arms, so that her body was flattened against his.
Even though he was so much taller than Stacy, she didn’t feel overwhelmed by him. He held her just snugly enough to make her feel cradled. Safe. And yet, excited. Aroused.
It seemed as though she had been mistaken again, she mused as she felt her thoughts begin to turn hazy. One kiss from Jake could, indeed, be dangerous. Could very well lead to wanting more. Much more.
Breathing harder now, Jake finally lifted his head. Spots of warm color touched his cheeks above the beard, evidence that he had been as affected by the kiss as she had.
“I have a confession to make,” he murmured without releasing her.
She moistened her still-sensitive lips. “What is it?”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I found you trapped beneath that log.”
Her heart jumped, but she kept her tone even. “Have you?”
“Yes. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to scare you away. Me being a stranger and all.”
“A perfect stranger, you said.”
His grin endearingly lopsided, he nodded. “That is what I said, isn’t it? So maybe I’m not perfect—but I’m not such a bad guy, either.”
She believed him. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. In fact, he was a very nice man with a warm smile, a kind heart, a friendly personality and an infectious sense of humor. Not to mention a great body. Nice eyes. A blinding smile. And the ability to empty her mind of everything but him with only a “friendly” little kiss.
Oscar tugged impatiently at his leash. Somewhat reluctantly,
Stacy pulled herself out of Jake’s arms, untangled the leash and took a couple of steps backward. Jake didn’t try to detain her.
“I’ll start breakfast,” she said, turning toward the cabins.
Jake nodded. “I’ll clean up quickly. All of a sudden, I’m ravenous.”
FINGERING his freshly shaved jaw, Jake approached Stacy’s door with the odd feeling that he should be carrying flowers or something. But maybe that would have been too much. He didn’t want to completely scare her off. He had taken a big enough step by kissing her.
Maybe it had been the wrong time for a first kiss. He’d been sweaty and grubby, and she’d found him in a grim, self-pitying mood. But then she had seemed to be at ease with him for a change, both of them laughing at her dog’s antics. Kissing her had been irresistible, even though he’d risked making her retreat from him again, go back to the careful, wary way she had treated him when they’d first met.
It had been a great kiss. And not only had she not pulled away, but she had actually cooperated. Kissed him in return. He could still feel the way her hand had burrowed into his hair, a memory that still made his pulse trip. He couldn’t be sorry he had finally kissed her, though perhaps he could have set the scene better.
Kissing her had settled a few issues for him. For one thing, he no longer tried to convince himself that his interest in her was based merely on boredom. There was a lot more to it than that.
He wasn’t quite ready to call it love—but neither would he deny that it had the potential to develop into just that.
She opened the door when he knocked. Her eyes widened when she saw his clean-shaved face. “You look different.”
He smiled. “Good or bad?”
“Good,” she decided, studying him with her head tilted and a slightly quizzical look on her face.
Was she thinking he looked a bit familiar now? Wondering if she had seen him somewhere before? Even though she didn’t follow NASCAR, it was quite likely that she had seen one of his magazine or TV ads. And his face had been on a box of cereal just the previous month. Maybe she’d seen him at her breakfast table before and just hadn’t realized it yet.
Before this day ended, she was going to know exactly who he was, he promised himself. But first—breakfast.
She held a cup of coffee in her hand, which she handed him as he entered. If her smile was self-conscious or displayed any regret of their kiss, he couldn’t tell when he searched her face.
“Thanks,” he said, lifting the cup toward his lips. “I needed this.”
“I figured you would by now. Sit down, I’ll get your waffles.”
Taking a seat at the kitchen table, he watched as she poured batter into one of those flip-over waffle makers. It looked pretty easy to use, he decided. Maybe he should buy one for his house back in North Carolina. Not that he was there for breakfast all that often.
He wondered how she would feel about living on the road every weekend. Should it ever progress to that stage between them, of course.
“These smell great,” he said when she set his plate in front of him and turned back to the waffle maker to start her own.
She nodded toward the center of the table. “I wasn’t sure what you liked on them, so I set out syrup, honey and powdered sugar. Help yourself. Would you like some orange juice?”
“No, just coffee for now, thanks.” He drizzled maple syrup on his waffles, then waited for her to join him a few moments later before picking up his fork and digging in. She had cooked bacon to go with the meal; she set the platter in the center of the table as she took her chair. Jake helped himself to a couple of crispy slices.
Maybe they both needed to talk about lighter subjects during breakfast, ignoring for now the reasons they were there, the injuries and losses they had suffered, any plans for the future. They talked, instead, about movies, a subject they both enjoyed. Which films they considered their favorites, which ones had given them nightmares as kids, which they considered guilty pleasures and some they’d considered a waste of two hours of their time.
Jake was rather surprised by the number of times they agreed, though they had a spirited debate about which was the best Lethal Weapon film—he said the first, she preferred the third, but they both disliked the second. And about whether a certain classic movie villain lost much of his effectiveness after a prequel revealed he’d once been a cute little boy called “Ani.” Jake said it didn’t make the character any less ominous; she said it had completely changed her way of viewing the guy. Laughing, they agreed to disagree.
He loved watching her laugh. Her whole face lit up, her gray-blue eyes warmed and crinkled in the corners, her mouth curved so sweetly that he ached to taste her again. Desire hit him like a punch as he realized that he could sit with her for hours without getting bored. Just talking to her. Watching her laugh.
Her cell phone rang just as they were loading their dishes into the dishwasher. She glanced at the screen, then wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. It’s my friend Mindy. I should probably take it or she’ll worry that something is wrong.”
“Go ahead. I’ll go into the living room and catch up on the news.”
Nodding, she lifted the small phone to her ear. “Hi, Mindy.”
Jake didn’t actually try to eavesdrop on her conversation with her friend. But the cabin was small, and she had to raise her voice occasionally to overcome static in the connection. Even though he had tuned the TV to CNN, he couldn’t help but overhear a few things.
“I was just chatting with my neighbor,” she said. “Yes, he’s very nice. No, I can’t—how’s Paul?”
Smiling, Jake realized that her friend was prying, and that Stacy didn’t want to talk about him while he was there to overhear.
A few moments later, he heard her gasp in indignation. “What?” she asked, her voice rising sharply. “Why did she call you? I hope you told her where she could go…Yeah, that’s exactly where I would have suggested. Can you believe the nerve? I swear, if I never see another camera pointed in my direction, I’ll be perfectly happy.”
Jake winced.
“I swear, Mindy, I’m going to live so deep in the shadows from now on that no reporter will ever find a word to write about me,” she continued crossly. “I’m never agreeing to another interview. I’m never getting involved with another fame-hound, so I’m warning you, if you go and get famous or something, I’ll have to stop being your friend.”
Even though she sounded as though she was teasing a bit at the end, there was a note of truth in Stacy’s tone that made Jake’s heart sink.
There was no way she could be involved with him and avoid the spotlight. No way she could spend the rest of her life avoiding cameras and interviews.
This should teach him to let his heart get ahead of itself, he thought glumly. He’d been fantasizing about a future with Stacy even before he revealed to her who he was. She had told him how she felt about the press, but he hadn’t seen how serious she was. Hadn’t wanted to see.
She came into the room shaking her head. “Can you believe it? A woman Mindy and I went to high school with called her today, hounding her to talk me into an interview. Lynn’s a reporter now for a local newspaper and she wants an in-depth story on me. How I feel about the past, whether I’ve used tae kwon do as an escape for my ‘emotional pain.’”
She made a face, as if the words tasted sour on her tongue. “Mindy and I haven’t seen Lynn in years, but all of a sudden she’s a ‘dear friend.’ What a crock.”
“I suppose she’s just doing her job,” Jake suggested cautiously. “Guess she figured the worst that could happen was that you would say no.”
Scowling, she shook her head. “I still think she crossed the line when she called Mindy. And when she was so blatant about wanting to use what she knows about my past.”
Reminded that he still knew very little about her past himself, Jake kept quiet.
Stacy sighed and plopped onto the couch. “I suppose I should tell you, my father was a politician who had
a habit of making headlines for all the wrong reasons. He ran for everything from mayor of a small town to county sheriff and state senate. Every time he got elected to anything—and it’s unreal how often he charmed people into voting for him—it always ended up in some sort of scandal. Money. Women. Abuse of power. He was always in the newspapers for something outrageous he’d said or done, and reporters followed us all the time while I was growing up. It was humiliating.”
Not at all the sort of background he would have imagined for her. “What was he like as a father?”
“Absentee. He was rarely home, and when he was, he was always on the phone or closed into his home office with his cronies. He remembered his kids only when he needed us to pose for campaign photos depicting him as the loving family man.”
Strike two, he thought with a hard swallow. She probably had an aversion to men who worked long hours and had little time for traditional family activities. She probably wouldn’t want to hear that there were ways to compensate for those job demands, not perfect solutions, but definitely workable.
Before he could think of what to say, she shook her head impatiently. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. I mean, you didn’t have a father in the home at all.”
“I can understand your aversion to the press,” he conceded, “but it sounds as if your father did his part to egg them on.”
“My father loved being in the spotlight,” she agreed. “On his terms, of course. It made him furious when the media reported things he didn’t want known.”
“And your mother?”
“My mother was dazzled by him for a long time. By the time the enchantment wore off, she had two kids and a lot of shared debt. And she was raised to believe that divorce was unacceptable.”
“So she stuck with him.”
“Yes. She, Nick and I spent a lot of time at home together, sort of closed off from the rest of the world. Then, when I was twelve, my father made his final headline. He dropped dead of a heart attack in a courtroom where he was facing charges of mail fraud and money laundering.