Breaking His Rules (Feeling the Heat #4)

by Alison Packard

  “I’m not going to charge you with sexual harassment, Jake,” she snapped, annoyed he might be comparing her to Denise.

  “I know that. It’s not about you. It’s about my business. My brand. I market Jake’s Joint as a safe and friendly place to work out. How many people would want to join my gym, or renew their memberships if they believed I’m hitting on or dating my members, or sexually harassing my personal training clients? Whether I like it or not, what I do and how I’m perceived directly affects the gym. Melissa, I care about you, but I’ve worked too hard for too long to jeopardize the most important thing in my life.”

  “Your business.” It wasn’t a question; it was fact. A fact that caused moisture to gather in her eyes.

  “I never meant to hurt you.”

  Melissa blinked. She would not cry. “You didn’t,” she said, forcing herself to lie. Not to make Jake feel better, but to salvage what little self-respect she could from the situation. “I’m a big girl. I knew this outcome was a possibility.”

  The longest and most uncomfortable silence Melissa had ever endured ended when Jake cleared his throat. “Well, I should be going. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. What time will you be ready?”

  Her stomach roiled. Sitting next to Jake for the nearly three-hour drive to Sacramento was the last thing she wanted to do. The thought of trying to make small talk with him made her ill. Especially since talking to Jake had never been a problem. “Actually, I think I’ll catch a ride back with Paige and Rob. You can leave whenever you want.”

  He cocked his head and frowned. “Are you sure?”

  Melissa waved her hand and eased away from the end of the bed as Jake moved toward her. “Yes. I’m positive,” she assured him, and tried to ignore his clean male scent as he picked up the garment bag and reached for his suitcase. He set it on the floor and pulled out the handle.

  “I’ll see you at the gym,” he said, searching her face. “Won’t I?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you around.” She inwardly cringed as her voice cracked. She motioned toward the door and looked away from him before she did something embarrassing—like beg him to stay. “I’ll get that for you.” She moved to the door and pulled it open.

  “I’ll take care of the bill on my way out,” he said, halting next to her near the threshold. He was close; so close she could sense the warm masculine heat rolling off of him in waves. She longed to touch him one last time but instead of giving in to the urge, she kept one hand on the door and her other arm stiffly at her side.

  “You don’t need to do that. You—”

  “I’m paying for the room,” he repeated, in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “Fine,” she said, and prayed he would leave. Trying to control her emotions was becoming more difficult by the second. “Drive safely,” she added. Never let it be said she didn’t have manners. Even when she was being dumped.

  “I’ll see you soon.” His gaze lowered to her lips and for one brief second, Melissa thought he was going to kiss her. But the moment passed and when he looked up, his eyes were inscrutable.

  “Goodbye, Jake,” she said as firmly as she could. She waited, but still he didn’t move. Every nerve in her body yearned for him to take her into his arms and tell her he was an idiot and that somehow they could work it out. But he didn’t. Instead he gave her a nod, stepped across the threshold and walked away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Early Thursday morning, almost a full two weeks since the wedding, Jake walked into River City Coffee and found his mother poised on a small step stool writing the daily specials on a black chalkboard near the front counter.

  “What’s the special this morning?” he asked as the door closed behind him and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans invaded his nostrils and triggered a sudden craving for caffeine.

  From her position on the stool, Sharon Sawyer smiled down at him. “You stopped by on the right day. Angie just dropped off a fresh batch of her mixed berry muffins.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” Jake extended a hand and helped his mother step down from the stool. “I love those things.”

  Sharon chuckled as she gave him a quick hug. “You and half of Sacramento.”

  Jake picked up the stool and followed his mother to the counter. “I’m surprised she still finds the time to bake now that she has Jordan. And with the season in full swing, it’s not like J.T. is around much to help take care of the baby.”

  Sharon tossed the piece of chalk into a small dish next to the cash register, then tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear. “She’s scaled back a lot. I’ve contracted with another supplier, but Angie still does her signature muffins and scones twice a week.”

  Jake rounded the counter and stashed the stool into its cubbyhole near the waste receptacle. The cheerful jingle of the bell attached to the front door indicated two customers had arrived for their morning coffee fix. While his mother took their orders, Jake moved to the stainless steel glass display case, reached inside to grab one of his sister-in-law’s famous muffins, then broke a piece off and shoved it into his mouth. If he wasn’t in a public place, he would have let out a whimper of pleasure. That’s how amazing it was.

  J.T. was convinced his wife would someday be as famous as Mrs. Fields, the cookie lady, but at the present time, Angie wasn’t interested in selling her stuff anywhere else but River City Coffee. A decision that greatly benefited his mother, especially after a local food critic had written a rave review of Angie’s baked goods in Sacramento Life magazine.

  As he ate the muffin, Jake leaned against the back counter where the espresso machine was situated and watched as his mother, wearing her trademark green and white apron, and the two women who’d come in together exchanged pleasantries. Sharon Sawyer didn’t have to work. In fact, she’d been a stay-at-home-mom until Jake was a senior in high school. During his college years, his mother tried her hand at several jobs, but it wasn’t until a little over five years ago when she decided to open a coffee café that she’d found something she truly enjoyed doing.

  That enjoyment had taken a major hit last December when two gunmen entered the café and started shooting. One customer had died, and Jake was sure his mother and Angie would have been more seriously injured than they were if his older brother Justin hadn’t been in the café when the shooting started and warned them to duck behind the counter. For a month after the shooting, his mom had seriously contemplated not reopening, but then one day, she announced defiantly that she wasn’t going to let two punks ruin her life, or her business, and had gone about getting the place remodeled with her usual organizational efficiency.

  Just as he swallowed the last bite of his muffin, his cell phone chimed. Fishing in the front pocket of his khakis, he pulled it out and read the text message from Melissa.

  Have to cancel training session tonight. Something important came up.

  Jake’s gut twisted into a tight knot. On Tuesday morning, he’d received a similar text. It wasn’t like Melissa to blow off her sessions—she’d only missed one since she’d started training with him and that was because she’d come down with a bad cold. And now in the space of two weeks, she’d cancelled four sessions because something more important came up.

  Swearing softly under his breath, he typed in a response.

  Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see you at our sessions next week.

  Jake stared at the screen for almost a full minute waiting for a response, but none came. He wasn’t surprised. He’d been an idiot to think that he and Melissa could return to the friend zone after making love in Monterey. Despite her assurances that she was fine, it was obvious she wasn’t. And what was worse, he wasn’t feeling so hot himself. Every day that went by without talking to her or seeing her seemed like an eternity.

  Another ring of the bell diverted Jake’s attention from his phone. He looked up as the man who could handle just about any situation and remain unfazed walked into the café. His father.

 
; Joe Sawyer nodded amicably to the two women his mother had been helping as he passed by them on their way out, but then he only had eyes for his wife. Even after thirty-seven years of marriage, his parents were still deeply in love. Jake watched as they exchanged a quick kiss before his father noticed him standing behind the counter.

  Jake shoved his phone into his pocket. “Hey, Dad.”

  His father, who in his dark suit and red power tie looked like he was on his way to court, gave him a nod and a smile. “I was going to call you today to check in. We haven’t talked in a while.”

  As usual, Joe Sawyer seemed to know when his sons needed a fatherly shoulder to lean on. To say he had the best parents in the world was an understatement. Jake had lucked out in that department and he damn well knew it.

  He rounded the counter and gave his father a hug. “Are you on your way to the office or to court?”

  “Court. But I have some time to kill if you’d like to have coffee with me.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Why don’t you two get a table and I’ll bring you some coffee,” his mother suggested as another customer entered the café and stopped in front of the chalkboard to read the specials.

  A few minutes later, at a table next to the large picture window that provided an excellent view to the bustling downtown street beyond, Jake sat across from his father, who had unbuttoned his suit jacket and was now leaning back comfortably in his chair. Joe sipped his dark blend coffee and studied Jake thoughtfully. His father’s eyes were hazel—just like his and J.T.’s. Justin and Josh had inherited Sharon Sawyer’s blue eyes.

  “You’ve been on my mind.”

  Jake wrapped his fingers around his coffee cup and grinned. “Probably because you have that weird sixth sense thing going on and instinctively know when I need to talk.”

  “What’s going on?” Joe set his cup down and leaned forward. “The last time we spoke Jake’s Joint was doing well.” His brows creased together in a slight frown. “Or is this about something more personal?”

  “It’s both.” Jake absently tapped his fingers against his cup. “Do you remember Melissa Atherton? You met her at Angie’s house when she came over to see the baby.”

  “The blonde, right? The one you’re training.”

  “That’s her.” Jake took a breath before continuing. “I crossed the line, Dad.”

  After a brief pause in which Jake tried not to squirm under his father’s measured gaze, Joe asked, “Are you saying you’ve become personally involved with her?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m surprised you took that chance after what happened with Denise Snow.”

  “It surprised me too. I didn’t start out to get involved with Melissa, but over the past eight months we’ve become pretty tight.” He moved his cup aside and folded his forearms on the table. “I’m not sure when it became more than just friendship, but it did. At first I ignored what I was feeling. After Denise, I didn’t want to put myself in the position of being accused of being inappropriate with my clients. But when Melissa needed an escort for a wedding a couple of weekends ago in Monterey, I offered to take her and didn’t think twice about it. It was supposed to be platonic, but then we had to share a room and...well...”

  “I think I get the picture,” Joe said, with a hint of wryness in his tone.

  “The thing is I care about Melissa. I even thought that maybe we could keep seeing each other when we got back to town, but then, in the mother of all coincidences, Denise happened to be a member of the wedding party and she made this huge scene at the reception. She accused me of being a hypocrite because I was there with Melissa and she told everyone I harassed her. It was probably the most humiliating moment of my life.” Jake lifted a hand and rubbed the tense muscles in the back of his neck. “After that, I told Melissa we could only be friends.”

  “Why? You seem to care a lot for this girl.”

  “How can you ask me that?” Jake asked with surprise as he lowered his hand. “Aren’t you the one who told me not to mix business with pleasure?”

  “I did. And I stand by what I said. But things, especially personal relationships, aren’t always set in stone. And, from my experience, almost every rule has an exception.” Joe’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “Or a loophole.”

  “Not this time, Dad,” Jake said. “I could have lost my business. I know Melissa is nothing like Denise, but I’ve been so adamant about not getting involved with my clients that I really will look like a hypocrite if I continue to see her.”

  For a long moment his father studied him intently. “And what will you be if you don’t?”

  Jake cocked his head to the side and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “That’s one thing you’ll have to figure out on your own, son.”

  * * *

  As a rule, Melissa didn’t frequent bars on weeknights. But after the day from hell at work, and a three-mile run where all she’d done was feel guilty that she bailed on all of her training sessions since her return from Monterey, she was grateful Paige had cajoled her into accompanying her to Timbers Tavern. Anything was better than sitting home and brooding about Jake.

  A local bar close to where she and Paige lived, Timbers was an establishment that didn’t pretend to be anything other than it was. Although smoking had been banned years before, the unmistakable odor of stale cigarettes permeated the wood-paneled walls where various pieces of farm equipment were hung. Apparently, the owner considered them to be rustic art. Those looking for something more upscale and trendy didn’t bother with Timbers and went elsewhere. The seedy ambiance kept the snobs away. Which was exactly how the regulars liked it.

  Melissa didn’t consider herself a regular. But Paige did. Not because she was a big drinker, but because she loved to play darts. Darts was serious business at Timbers, and over the past few years her sister had earned quite a reputation as a hustler. On more than one occasion, she’d beaten the pants off some overconfident jerk that wandered in and thought he could best her because she was a woman.

  “How’s the studying going?” Melissa asked, after taking a sip of the beer their world-weary cocktail waitress had deposited in front of her. On the round table between them was an order of nachos. Timbers had some of the best bar food around, but tonight she wasn’t all that hungry and had eaten only a few of the bean-and-cheese-covered tortilla chips. A year ago she would have eaten most of the platter, but since training with Jake and adopting his philosophy, she’d learned to pay attention to her body’s signals and not shovel the food in just because it was there.

  “Never ending.” Paige pushed her hair over her shoulder, picked a couple black olives off the top of the nachos and popped them into her mouth. “The recruit exam is in two weeks. I hope my studying pays off.”

  “I’m sure you’ll ace it.” Melissa set her bottle on the table and glanced around the room. It was a slow night. Other than her and Paige, the meager crowd consisted of two guys sitting at the bar. One had shoulder-length, unkempt hair, a scraggly beard and mustache, and sat at the far end of the bar so that he faced the door. The other, a clean-cut guy who looked to be in his forties and wearing a suit and tie, sat with his back to them and had kept his head bowed over his cell phone from the moment he’d slid onto his bar stool. Over the bar, the television was tuned to the sports channel but the only person interested in watching it seemed to be the bartender.

  “This place is dead,” Paige declared with disappointment, then took a long swig of her beer. “If I was still seeing Rob, I’d call him and ask him to come over for a game of darts,” she said, after swallowing.

  “So you ended it?” Melissa wasn’t surprised. Paige and Rob had barely spoken to each other on the ride back to Sacramento. The tension between them was so thick Melissa was positive even a machete couldn’t have cut through it.

  “Yep.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Paige shrugged. “I’m not in love with him.” A trace of regre
t clouded her eyes. “I didn’t enjoy hurting him, though. He’s a good man.”

  “But not the one,” Melissa said, and immediately thought of Jake. Just as quickly, she banished him from her mind. If only it was as easy to banish him from her heart.

  “Nope.” Paige took another pull of her beer, and then looked past Melissa with a narrowed gaze of suspicion. “That dude at the bar looks kind of shifty.”

  “The one with the scruffy beard?” Melissa asked. “Looks like he could use a bath and a shave to me.”

  Paige tilted her head, pursed her lips and studied the man as if he were a lab specimen under a microscope. “He’s very still, and he keeps looking at the door.”

  “Maybe he’s waiting for someone.” As she reached for her beer and took a sip, Melissa heard the creak of the weathered wooden entrance door but didn’t bother to check out the new arrival. The door’s hinges whined again and Melissa almost spit out her beer as Paige kicked her in the shin. Hard. “What the—”

  “Jake’s here,” Paige’s urgent whisper cut off Melissa’s angry expletive. She winced as a dull pain throbbed up and down her shin and forced herself not to look in the direction of the bar. Great. Now she was busted. She’d texted Jake this morning to cancel her training session with the vague excuse that something had come up. And now here he was. Wasn’t that just her luck?

  “What’s he doing?” Melissa asked in a low voice, smoothing her hair back with trembling fingers as she tried to regain her composure.

  “He went straight to the bar,” her sister whispered back. “He’s sitting near shifty dude.”

  Melissa’s heart pounded so loudly it felt as if a herd of thundering elephants were stampeding in her chest. “What’s he doing now?”

  “He’s ordering something from the bartender.” Paige’s nose wrinkled as she scowled. “I have half a mind to go over there and tell him what an asshole he is. No one does the pump and dump to my sister and gets away with it.”