Jake raises his hand and gently touches the woman's shoulder. The move makes Ellie's face red with heat.
But as quickly as he left, Jake returns to the car. “Now we can get on with our business,” he says as he steps back in.
“Is that what this is?” Ellie frowns. “Business?”
“Sorry,” Jake smiles. “I’m a trained professional. I forget that I need to let my guard down, sometimes.”
“Well, then, first things first,” Ellie begins her list of questions. “Why does a guy like you, from all observations a man of integrity— why does a guy like you own a publishing business and a strip club? Peculiar combination, right?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have let my guard down,” Jake laughs. “Normally the interview starts with a lob, you know.”
“Well, I just… if I’m to trust you, like you asked, then I’m going to need to know some things about you.”
“Fair enough,” Jake’s expression turns serious. He moves from opposite Ellie to the seat next to her. “Let’s just say I’m doing a favor for someone with the club.”
Ellie shifts her position and faces him. “A little more, maybe?”
“A little more what?”
“Detail, Jake. You gave me a nibble, I asked for a bite.”
Jake smiles. “It’s just returning a favor. I’m going to bring the business back up. It was near disaster and I knew how to turn it around, so I took it over, and intend to give it back when I know its profitability will remain solvent.”
“That sounds like more than a favor.”
“Well, it’s actually Tan’s business… guy in the tank top at the house,” he points back over his shoulder. “I’ve been helping him get back on his feet.”
“Admirable that you’re doing that,” she says. “Different name. Is it Tanner?”
“Yeah, well,” he ignores her question, “I’m not doing it for my health.”
“What are you doing it for, then?”
“I made a promise,” he says with a haunted look in his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“He did me a favor a long time ago, and in return, I promised I would always have his back.”
“Must have been some favor,” Ellie suggests— hoping for, but not sure she should expect more explanation.
Jake looks straight ahead. He hasn’t made eye contact with Ellie since she asked about Tanner. “I’m not sure I can ever repay him.”
Ellie studies his face under the warm glow of the overhead lights. His strong jaw-line and bright eyes give him a natural look of confidence, despite the uncertainty of his words.
His white button-down shirt is loose around the collar, his sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. His hands are at once delicate and strong, perfect for soft and supple caress, or, she remembers, to hold her body tight against his.
Ellie reaches over and places her hand on his, together on his thigh. A warm smile brightens her face.
She expects a reaction from him too, but if anything, he only falls further into his brooding trance.
“Where are we going, Jake?” she tries.
His expression softens. “Just across the park,” he points out her window, “where I first met you today.”
“My apartment building?”
“Yes,” he nods.
Ellie sits up tall, pulls her phone from her clutch. “Just after midnight,” she shows him. “The park’s still open. Let’s walk from here.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Jake replies. “It’s late as hell and not exactly safe for a girl dressed…” he looks down at her skirt. “We’ll be at the apartment soon anyhow.”
Ellie senses a weakness in him that she hasn’t yet seen. “Nope, I’ve pretty much made up my mind,” she says. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint me now, would you, Jake?”
He smirks at her playfulness, but before he can dissuade her, Ellie moves across to the other seat and knocks on the dark glass between them and the driver. The divider comes down.
“Can you pull over here, please?” she asks.
The driver looks in the rearview mirror.
Jake gives him a reluctant nod.
Butterflies swarm Ellie’s stomach. She grabs Jake’s hand and reaches for the door.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Jake says.
She pulls on him until he gives in and they step out into the cool night air.
Under the lights of the city, a light rain sparkles as it hits the street.
“Let’s play another game then,” she smiles.
Jake shoots her a quick, curious look. “A game?”
She taps him on the arm. “Tag, you’re it,” she laughs and sprints toward the park entrance.
Jake hesitates, and glances back. His driver shrugs his shoulders and closes the door.
Ellie is past the first bend in the park road before she slows to a jog and looks back. She can’t see Jake. And the car is no longer visible. She turns in disbelief and begins to walk back.
From a crossing path, someone emerges, almost on top of her. It startles her at first, but then she feels a light tap on her arm. “You’re it.” Jake says.
He turns to run away from her, but after a few strides, he slips on the slick pavement and falls to the side of the road. Despite being twenty-six, he moves with the youthful grace of a college athlete, rolling onto his back, then springing to his feet in one deft movement. Unfazed, he flashes a confident smile at Ellie.
She darts toward him— shocked, concerned and admiring his athletic endeavor all at once. She reaches out, brushes off the back of his shirt. “Are you okay? You know this is just a game, right?”
Jake nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Well your shirt isn’t,” Ellie says. “You put a hole in it, and there’s dirt all over.”
“It’ll be fine,” he says, without looking.
“Fine?” Ellie scoffs. “This shirt probably cost more than my entire wardrobe and a big hole in it is just fine?”
“Seriously, it’s fine. I do have other shirts you know.”
Ellie inspects the hole further. “Stand still, Jake. There’s blood on your back.”
“I’m not hurt. Honestly,” he protests.
“Well, we better get going, then. Apparently this park is dangerous.”
“We’ll find a bandage at the apartment,” he says.
“If you make it there.”
“Speaking of danger,” Jake looks at her as she walks. “You said you had demons….”
Ellie’s lips come together, but she manages a nod.
“What are they?” he asks.
Ellie doesn’t say anything for a moment. She considers how to even begin to answer his question.
“We don’t have to—” he says.
“It’s okay. It’s just,” Ellie pauses, “It’s a little difficult to explain.”
“I’ve got time,” Jake smirks.
She looks down, her hand clutches at her pendant. “I wish I knew more.”
Jake reaches two fingers toward her and slowly lifts her chin. “You don’t remember?” His voice suggests surprise.
Ellie wipes the corner of her eye.
“Only parts,” she says.
She hesitates to elaborate, and looks away from him. She hasn’t spoken to anyone about her childhood since she lived with her grandmother, someone she knew she could trust not to judge her. But she wants to tell Jake. Wants to trust him with her past, no matter how dark, no matter how much it hurt her.
“Certain things,” she says. “I remember up to a point, but then it’s like someone suddenly shut my vision off for a period of time…. There’s a missing piece. I may never be able to remember.”
“Isn’t that good?” Jake asks, but then adds, “I mean, not remembering something that was presumably hurtful?”
“I don't know,” she says. “They tell me it’s like the shock soldiers experience after war.”
“PTSD?” Jake asks.
/> “Yeah, but I really want to remember. It gnaws at me constantly. I have pieces… parts… but not a whole picture. I can’t let it go….”
“Do you think you might be able to figure it out, the missing part?”
“I have to…. I’ve been seeing a memory expert. He thinks we’re making progress. It’s just so hard. Everything else in my life is clear. Not always great, but clear. It’s just one block of time… one I was too young to have any control over.”
“I’m sure you'll figure it out sooner or later,” Jake offers.
“Maybe, but my story in The City Lit totally depends on it. I don't think I can leave that piece, whatever it was, out.”
“There are avenues around that,” Jake says. “Editors can help.”
“Yeah, but I don't see how an editor will help me remember any more than a memory expert.”
“It's not the remembering an editor can help with, it's more the craft… the creative side.”
“I don't know, Jake. I’m not sure I want to write things that didn’t happen. It’s a true story, remember?”
“Give it a little time. It’ll come together. Maybe you should bring your story over to the The Review.”
WHOA. He publishes The Review? That’s only the best literary critique on the entire East coast. Forget The City Lit.
“I’d love to talk about that. I think right now though, I just need to get back into my apartment, get things back to normal….”
“I’m going to fix that, remember?” Jake asks.
“I know you said that, but I don’t know how I’m going to repay you, so the problem isn’t really going to go away.”
They reach the west side park exit, cross the street and enter Ellie’s apartment building.
“I’ll probably stay with Naomi tonight,” Ellie says while they wait for the elevator.
It’s more of a suggestion— offered for challenge— than a statement, but Jake doesn’t take the bait.
The elevator bell rings.
Her eyes glance at the floor indicator, then back at Jake.
“It’s not the money I want,” he flashes a wry grin.
Ellie’s expression goes blank. “What is it then, Jake?”
The door opens to an empty car and Jake steps inside.
He extends his hand toward Ellie.
His eyes wide, his full lips part to speak.
“Get in,” he says. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”
***
Ellie’s heart races. She wants to step forward, but somehow her legs won’t work. She shifts her stance instead, tucks a tuft of hair behind her ear. Suddenly, she’s overwhelmed— her face glowing like a hot iron.
Earlier today, all she wanted to do was figure out a way to pay her rent. Now, she stands in front of the gorgeous— no, beyond gorgeous— Jake Harlow, and he wants something from her.
Their eyes lock on each other.
The corners of Jake’s lips edge up. His fingers gesture— without even a hint of impatience in the rest of his demeanor— for Ellie to step into the elevator car. “Take my hand,” he commands.
Ellie’s mind eases, disarmed by his confidence. The rest of her body is a different story— his full, moist lips make her quiver with desire. A guy like him could take her places she’s never been, never imagined. Come on, legs!
She sucks in a breath, steps forward, reaches for his hand. Her heart pounds against the inside of her chest.
Somewhere in the back of her head, a voice still says this is wrong.
But the instant warmth of Jake’s touch ignites her smoldering anticipation….
She wants so desperately to place her lips on his. Only the quick ride, and the uncertainty of running into other tenants, prevent it.
The door opens and they enter the empty corridor to her apartment. She steps out in front of him.
As they walk, she glances at the artwork. A particular piece— a long and curvy cliff road, a bridge that drops thousands of feet to the ocean below— steals her attention. But only for a moment…
She looks over her shoulder.
Jake follows behind her, his eyes fixed downward, focused on a different set of curves.
She stops walking.
He looks up at her, surprised. His hand finds the small of her back, keeps him from bumping into her.
“Caught!” she says, and starts to walk again.
He smiles wistfully at her revelation.
“Dangerous Curves Ahead,” he says softly.
Ellie reviews the painting a moment longer— Jake’s words match the title plate.
She turns toward him, and continues to walk, backwards now. “Not if you’re experienced,” she flashes a subtle grin.
Jake’s eyebrows lower. “I’ve got more qualifications than a Nascar driver, if that’s what you mean.”
Ellie doesn’t know what she means. She’s never even tried to talk dirty before. “What if the conditions are wet?” she surprises herself.
He moves closer to her, and reaches for her hand. “You’re in luck,” he grins, “I just so happen to be an expert in wet conditions.”
“Oh?” she asks as he pulls her toward him, but it comes out as more of a gasp. Her legs spasm, her body’s a quivering disaster. She feels as if she’ll pass out. Is this really happening?
Jake reaches down, gently at first, but then with firm resolve, and picks her up.
Her legs wrap naturally around his waist, her skirt slides up her hips.
His hands find her back before they land firmly against the double doors of his apartment.
Her arms fold over his shoulders, around his neck, pulling him tight to her.
She can feel his arousal between her legs, pressed hard against her own wetness. A moan escapes her.
His lips crash into hers, then pull away just as fast.
“That’s not playing fair,” she pulls him back in.
His mouth finds her neck. “I want to taste you,” he groans.
Her whole body shudders. “Take me inside.”
“I can’t wait that long,” he says between heavy breaths.
“Are you insane?” She asks.
He nibbles on her earlobe.
Shivers run down her neck. She clutches his back.
The elevator bell rings.
OH SHIT. Ellie’s eyes bulge in a panic.
Jake eases her down, exhales hard.
Ellie tugs at her skirt, frantic to put herself back together.
Jake reaches into his pocket and fumbles with a set of keys. “Step to the side,” he says.
Ellie does as instructed, and is stunned to see Dan Reese, her closest neighbor and deacon at the local church. He walks to his door, ten feet from her, mouth agape.
Her head nearly explodes. I'm literally going to hell.
Ellie glances back at Jake. He’s already opened the door and is halfway in, reaching back for her hand. She looks at Dan and shrugs her shoulders, then follows Jake into his apartment. She thinks she saw the hint of a smile on Dan’s face. Or did she just imagine it?
Chapter 5
Ellie brings her hand over her mouth as the door shuts behind her. “HOL-Y CRAP,” she says.
“Don’t worry, we gave him a good story,” Jake says.
“Yeah, but it cost me a heart attack,” Ellie replies.
Jake cracks a smile. “Such things happen in New York City….”
Ellie laughs and walks further into the apartment. “Smells new in here.”
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back,” Jake says.
The room is huge, much bigger than Ellie’s cramped one-bedroom apartment, and twice the height.
Unlike Ellie’s, this apartment faces Central Park. An entire wall of floor-to-ceiling glass reveals the view— Upper East Side lights flicker in the distance.
Ellie feels like she stepped into another world, one she didn’t think was possible in her building.
“I found a bandage,” Jake calls from a back hallway. Hi
s voice holds surprise.
Ellie turns from the windows. As she glances around the rest of the room, a picture— the lone personal touch in the otherwise newly renovated space— catches her attention. She walks toward the end table to get a better look. There are four young boys at the beach, the ocean in waves behind them. One of them is clearly Jake, maybe ten years old.
On the other side of the room, Jake walks in. His shirt is loose, half the buttons undone. His chest is exposed, and somehow even more impressive than Ellie first thought. Dark, firm, and defined.
She turns her full attention to him now as he continues to undo the remaining buttons. One-by-one, the ripples of his abs appear. This man’s body is insane.
The pace of Ellie’s breathing increases. She walks to him and places her hands on his chest, sliding up, over his shoulders, rolling his shirt off of his arms, into ruins on the floor. “Let’s clean you up.”
He hands her the bandage and turns around.
“We’ll need more than a bandage,” Ellie says. “Do you have a towel? … Wet, please,” she smirks.
Jake glances over his shoulder at her, a casual smile crosses his face. He walks into the kitchen, rummages through several drawers, and pulls two beers from the fridge and returns. “Thirsty?” He hands a towel to her.
Ellie nods. She sits at a bar stool and turns him to the side. She gently cleans the small wound. “So, Mr. Harlow… tell me something about yourself.”
Jake pulls the tops off of the beers, sets hers down on the counter and takes a long drink. “What would you like to know?”
Ellie pauses for a moment. She realizes she knows next to nothing about him. “What about your family?”
“There’s not much to tell,” he says.
“Siblings?”
“Nope.”
Ellie senses the tension in his voice, flashes a quick glance back at the picture, and decides to keep on. “So, you didn’t just drop out of the sky, what about parents?” She dabs the towel on his back.
Jake hesitates for a moment. “It’s a long story,” he says.
“I’ve got time,” she smirks.
“Not right now,” his face tightens.
“Do they live around—?”
“They’re both dead.” Jake picks up his beer, drinks the rest of it down and brings the empty bottle to the counter with a thud. A grave look washes over his face.
All I Want is You (Hearts on Fire Book 1) Page 3