That Weekend...

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “The concierge told me about a little Italian place a few blocks away. I managed to get us a reservation. Supposed to have amazing mushroom linguine.”

  Ava’s hand stilled on the zipper of her boot. “Italian?”

  “You don’t like Italian?”

  “I love it.” But she couldn’t believe that out of all the restaurants in town, Jake had chosen the one that had brought them together. The back of her neck tingled and she rubbed at it. “Are we walking there?”

  “It’s not far.”

  “I know. I was coming back from there when I fell.” She glanced down. “Maybe I should skip the boots.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder when she bent to start unzipping them. “Leave the boots.”

  “Oh, really?” She glanced up at him. “You like the boots now? You’ve come to see the truth of their awesomeness?”

  He smiled, that quirky half smile that made her stomach tighten. “I always liked the boots, Ava.”

  Her heart was thrumming that odd tattoo again. She shifted, dislodging his hand, and lowered her head, glad that she’d left her hair down so it could veil her hot cheeks. She would not throw herself at him. Well, not unless he specifically asked for it.

  “But if you’re worried, I promise not to let you fall.” He held out a hand to help her up. “I’ll even hold your hand the whole way.” His fingers squeezed hers and for a second, Ava considered leaving them there.

  But she tugged lightly and told herself she wasn’t disappointed when he let go without a fight.

  * * *

  DINNER WAS A RIOT OF laughter and pasta, and by the time the server came around to clear their plates, Ava was feeling very relaxed. When he asked if they’d like any dessert, she nodded emphatically.

  “Ooh, yes. Something gooey and chocolaty.” She liked having something sweet after a meal, though she didn’t often treat herself. Too short to carry any extra weight and too worried about how she looked on camera. But tonight was special.

  “Not for me.” Brandon checked his phone.

  “Not for me, either,” Jake said.

  Ava frowned at them. “Excuse me, but it’s rude to make me be the only one to order dessert and feel like a pig. You’re ordering something.”

  Brandon laughed. “Can’t. I gots to get to the party.” He waggled his phone at them. “My presence is requested.”

  Ava looked at the waiter. “Well, I want dessert. Bring me the most decadent thing on the menu.” She cut her eye to Jake. “You’re staying and having some.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “What about Brandon? He doesn’t have to stay?”

  “He’s young and horny.”

  “And I’m not?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” She felt her cheeks flush despite her attempt to be cool. Stupid fair coloring.

  “He’s a dude,” Brandon said. “He’s horny. Goes without saying.”

  Ava didn’t dare look at Jake lest she embarrass herself by asking him if Brandon was right.

  Brandon headed off, leaving the two of them at the table alone.

  Neither of them said anything.

  Ava swallowed. One more second and this would go way past awkward and then who knew what might come out of her mouth? She’d done a fine job of keeping things professional since their talk that weekend, but she hadn’t been thinking about the fact that as soon as they got back home this closeness was very likely to end.

  She tried to steer her thoughts down a safer path. “So what made you decide to take a job in Vancouver?” she asked. She knew Jilly would call her a chicken, but Jilly wasn’t here. “Family? Friends? Weather?”

  “What is the obsession you people have with weather?”

  “Us people?” She raised her good hand to her chest as though shocked. “You mean the amazing residents who call Vancouver home? Of whom you are now one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t be angry just because we don’t have to shovel snow all winter.”

  “You also don’t get sunshine all winter. What did we have, twenty-nine days of rain last month?”

  “Small price to pay.” There, this was much better than asking about his libido.

  “Actually, I’d have to agree. I shoveled the driveway for my parents when I was home for Christmas and I thought my back might never straighten again.”

  She doubted that. “So you don’t like manual labor.”

  “I don’t mind it. I like doing things with my hands.”

  Oh, she was so leaving that comment alone. “And the move came about because?”

  “I needed a change. I like Vancouver.”

  She could tell he was leaving something out. Years of interviewing celebrities had honed her instincts in that regard. “You like Vancouver and you needed a change. That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She studied him. Usually a big life change like moving three thousand miles away was prompted by a personal crisis. Maybe a girlfriend who’d broken his heart? Or maybe he’d been the heartbreaker. And the ex-girlfriend had turned all crazed and started stalking him and he’d had to move away before she boiled his pet bunny. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing.” He didn’t look as if he’d lost his bunny, but he wasn’t meeting her gaze, either. “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

  Ava was saved from analyzing whether or not his slip had been Freudian—really? He was throwing out a cigar analogy? Or was she just way too aware of sex thoughts?—by the arrival of her dessert. Three cannolis oozing cream filling and drizzled with dark chocolate.

  And just like that the sex thoughts were back. She filled her mouth with the sumptuous dessert and tried not to think about it.

  It proved impossible. Especially when he was watching her with that dark gaze. “Was it hard to move?” she asked, thinking that chatter of boxes and packing would do what the dessert couldn’t.

  “Some. I’ve never lived anywhere but Toronto.”

  “Is your family all still there?”

  He nodded and scooped up a bite of dessert. “My parents and my sister and her husband.” He smiled when he said it.

  “You like them.” It was obvious from his expression.

  “Usually. Sometimes my sister drives me insane. She tells me it’s just part of being a younger sibling, but I think she’s making it up. My mom we’ve already discussed. She’s great. Even when she’s trying to feed me zucchini.”

  Ava couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t mentioned his father, though he’d clearly said parents earlier. “What about your dad?”

  The corners of his mouth hardened, though his smile didn’t drop. “We have an understanding.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, Ava pushed. “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning we’re different.” Jake shrugged. “He’s a very successful man. He owns a large production company that mainly works on made-for-TV movies. In Toronto, everyone knows his name.”

  Ava could appreciate the feeling, though at least she wasn’t in the same industry as her mother. “Must be hard to live with sometimes.”

  Jake looked at her, really looked at her. She could feel his eyes bore right into her, and swallowed, feeling shy all of a sudden. “It is. Most people don’t understand that.”

  “That’s because they’ve never lived with it.”

  His mouth was soft now, as were his fingers when he reached out to brush a lock of hair from her cheek. “Exactly.” />
  Ava felt something click deep inside. Not like the last puzzle piece falling into place or a cog catching on a wheel. More like a crack as everything she knew or thought she knew began to tumble into shards around her feet.

  CHAPTER TEN

  JAKE WASN’T SURE WHY he’d trusted Ava with that little nugget from his life. Maybe because she understood. He’d gotten that feeling when she’d talked about her mother that night in the hospital. Maybe because she’d asked. Maybe because he trusted her.

  He liked knowing that she wouldn’t use the information against him. There was no reason for him to feel so strongly that this was the case, but he did. Something about the way she looked at him when he talked, as though she was really listening. Not to score points or get the dirt, but because she was interested in what he had to say.

  He glanced down at her as he helped her with her coat. Her blond hair got caught under the collar and he reached inside to free it, letting his fingers slide along the back of her neck. She shivered, the delicate movement sending a similar response through his body. Her words might say that she wanted to keep things professional, but her body told a very different story.

  When they stepped out into the cold night, Jake wrapped his hand around hers and held tight. This time, she didn’t pull away.

  He could hear the music from the nightclub long before they reached the front door, a deep, rumbling bass that he could feel through the soles of his shoes. Though he knew the responsible thing would be to go back to the hotel early and prepare for the meeting with the investors that was only two days away, Jake found he was looking forward to the party, looking forward to spending some nonwork-related time with Ava.

  Even if it was also with a few hundred other people.

  He nodded to the bouncer and slipped him a bill. The crowd outside the club was large and Jake figured it was money well spent.

  Inside, the crowd was even larger. They pressed their way into the mass of moving bodies. Jake stepped in front of Ava to prevent anyone from jarring her wrist. He found an empty corner and led her toward it.

  “Here?” She looked around. “But I can’t see any of the action.”

  “You have a broken bone.”

  “Which is protected by a cast.” She showed it to him and almost whacked him on the nose with it when a glassy-eyed man plowed into her, mumbled an apology and kept moving. “Okay, you might have a point.”

  It was only natural for Jake to put his arm around her to shield her from any further contact. And if he left it there a little longer than necessary, it was only because he wanted to make sure she had her balance. He wasn’t about to let her leave Rockdale with two broken wrists.

  Her blue eyes were bright with excitement as she scanned the room. “I can’t see, is Brandon anywhere?”

  Jake forced himself to look around. Aside from an actor who was regularly papped on the party scene, and his infamous posse, he didn’t see anyone he recognized. “I don’t think so.”

  “How much you want to bet he’s already gone?” Ava shouted over the thumping beat.

  Jake leaned down to speak into her ear, felt his belly tighten when her scent wafted over him. “Is he that good?”

  She nodded. Her hair tickled his nose. “Definitely.”

  He needed to put some space between them. Before his body overrode his brain and he kissed her again. “Sounds like my friend Alex. Want something to drink?”

  “Just water,” she shouted back. “I’ll go look for seats.” She grinned at him and, before he could protest that she shouldn’t be fighting through this crowd on her own, she disappeared into the swirling mass of bodies.

  Jake let the objection die on his lips. She was an adult. She could make her own decisions, and what right did he have to tell her what to do? Plus, it gave him the opportunity to watch her work it in those boots.

  As Jake threaded his way toward the bar, he saw a famous actress standing on a table, flailing her arms to the music and kicking her storklike legs at odd intervals. She had less rhythm than he did, though it didn’t seem to bother the circle of men standing around her. In the corner, there was a TV star kissing his model girlfriend. His hand was up her skirt, but no one around them seemed to notice or care.

  It took him five minutes to get the bartender’s attention and three more before he found Ava again. She was sitting in a round corner booth, laughing with the group that surrounded her.

  There was a young blond man seated beside her with his hand on her shoulder. Jake’s fingers tightened around the plastic bottle. He strode up, placing the water in front of Ava with more force than required, and stared the kid down.

  The kid was a typical pretty boy that frequented film festivals. The “mactors,” struggling model/actors, who were in town looking for their big break. His blond hair was perfectly mussed as if he’d just gotten up, but was more likely from ten pounds of product and a carefully choreographed blow dry. His jeans were strategically torn and his leather jacket had scuff marks that were probably made by the manufacturer. Little punk. He had the gall to look down Ava’s shirt when she leaned forward to introduce him. Jake would have poured his own water over the kid’s head except that would be a waste of a valuable natural resource.

  “Hey, man.” The kid made no move to make room for Jake or leave Ava’s side.

  “Hey.” Jake stood his ground, not looking away, not sliding around to sit on the opposite side of the large booth, and waited. It was an obvious ploy, but it worked.

  The kid chugged what was left of his beer under Jake’s steady gaze and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m dry.” He looked at Ava. “You want anything from the bar, dude?”

  Ava lifted her water. “I think I’m okay right now.”

  He pushed himself up, forced to meet Jake’s eyes head-on since Jake wasn’t moving. “What about you, man? You need anything?”

  “I’m fine.” Or he would be as soon as the kid vacated his seat.

  “Cool.” He looked around the table. “Anyone else need anything from the bar?”

  There was a chorus of orders and the kid rose to leave, adjusting his step so as not to bump into Jake. Jake couldn’t help feeling a little smug as he sat in the vacated space. If the kid could be so easily intimidated, then he wasn’t much of a catch. Ava should thank him.

  She didn’t.

  “What was that about?” She leaned toward him so he could hear her over the noise.

  Was she annoyed with him? Too bad. Jake didn’t feel even the slightest twinge of guilt about chasing the kid off. “You don’t want to hook up with him.”

  “Who said anything about hooking up?”

  “He wasn’t your type.”

  She rolled her eyes. “How would you know?”

  “He called you dude.”

  A smile flickered at the corner of her lips. “He surfs. He’s from California.”

  “Via Iowa.” Jake put his water on the table, staking his place.

  “Gee, Jake. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

  He didn’t answer that, but just smiled. Usually, he preferred a sports bar with oversize TV screens and chicken wings by the dozen, but Ava was clearly having a good time and he was swayed by her enthusiasm. She even convinced him to join her on the dance floor and didn’t complain when he stomped on her toes with his two left feet.

  The kid was out there, too, in a dance sandwich with a pair of brunettes who looked as if th
ey could be twins.

  Ava followed his gaze and then tossed her hair at him. Jake couldn’t help his smug grin. She tossed her hair again. “You don’t have to look so pleased with yourself. You hardly had to be a psychic to know his type.”

  “Then why were you letting him manhandle you?” He danced, or shuffled, since that was more his speed, toward her. There was a tiny woman directly behind him who kept throwing her arms wide because she “loved this song so much,” who’d already hit him in the ribs three times.

  “He wasn’t manhandling.” A group of hooting girls piled onto the floor beside them, forcing them even closer together. “He was sitting beside me.”

  “He had his hand on your shoulder.” Jake had to bend his head so that she could hear him over the shrieking group next to them.

  “Right.” She lifted an eyebrow at him. “And that’s clearly a prelude to sex.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder.

  She laughed and shrugged it off. “Aren’t you the funny one.”

  “I can be.” He put both hands on her shoulders. “So what’s this a prelude to?”

  Their eyes caught and held. Attraction sizzled between them. But then she shook her head, shattering the moment. “Nothing.” She placed her hands on his waist and began stepping side to side in a rhythm that even Jake could tell was offbeat. “This just means that your dancing hasn’t evolved beyond an elementary school level.”

  He chuckled and tugged her up against his side. She let her body mold to his. Jake knew they were playing with fire. He was certainly burning up inside. But before he could take that next step, the one from which there would be no turning back, raised voices on the other side of the bar caught his attention.

  When he saw the first fist fly, he stepped in front of Ava, pulled her good arm around his waist and started moving for the exit. “Stay behind me,” he told her as they pushed forward though the suddenly violent crowd.

  Angry shouts carried above the music, and he could see the bouncers converging from all corners. He’d spent enough time in bars in his errant youth to recognize the signs of a brawl. The booth was empty when they got there, everyone else recognizing that the party was over, too. Jake snatched up their coats. “Do you have a bag?”