by Violet Duke
Since he’d had a busy day today working by himself in the library to get some stuff ready for the guys this week, he’d figured he’d be able to not spend all his time daydreaming about the woman for at least the waking hours today.
Then she goes and does something this extraordinary.
All last week his phone had been ringing off the hook with local Juniper Hills residents calling him for small jobs here and there. He hadn’t thought much about it at the time, figuring it was because they knew he’d worked on the bakery and was now working on the library. But he wouldn’t be surprised if Emma was responsible for those job inquiries, as well.
His carpentry business had new life.
Only that didn’t really explain all the calls he’d been getting for jobs outside Juniper Hills. Maybe the Internet has crashed or something. After waving good-bye to an over-the-moon Sally, Jake took out his phone to pull up Google and do a standard search for his name.
Turned out the Internet was working just fine. And what he found was something far more amazing.
She’d submitted a review and comment to each and every forum.
Every online forum that home and business owners frequented to vet folks in the trades now had a glowing review for him and his business. Not only that but Emma had also left comments on the online forum his reputation had been tarnished on. She’d explained how much of a bang-up job he’d done on the bakery and described how he’d been doing some odds-and-ends jobs around town in exchange for jars of jellies, coolers of freshly caught fish, and other nonmonetary things that the hardworking folks he’d been helping out the past few weeks had been able to barter for his services. Jake knew how important pride was when the universe kicked you in the nuts and left you little else.
Those comments had garnered the most interest and follow-up responses. There were at least a dozen comments from strangers writing that they were definitely going to keep him in mind for their next project because they wanted a guy like him to be working on their homes and places of business.
A guy like him.
This was the first time that statement was uttered about him in a positive light.
And if all that weren’t more than enough already, Jake quickly discovered that Emma had posted pictures of his work on every single site that would allow it.
Since photos were fodder for search engines, the photos of all his work on the bakery were now defaulting on the search hits for his name on every home-improvement and small-business forum indexed by Google.
It was too much.
Suddenly he found his feet pivoting away from the library and heading straight over to the bakery.
With a brief nod at the part-timer running the cash register, he went right on back to the kitchen and kept on going until he was within breathing distance of Emma.
Damn, she smelled good. Like scones, sun-warmed skin, and sweetness.
Eyes wide, she shot him a puzzled grin before rising up on her tiptoes to give him a hug. “Hey. What’s going on? You okay?”
He planted both hands on either side of her on the butcher block and caged her in. “No, not okay.”
She frowned worriedly. “What’s wrong?”
“You didn’t let me finish. I’m better than just okay.”
Her brilliant smile was back. “Yeah? Something good happen today?”
“Something great. And mysterious.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“It is. Did you know that there’s someone going around writing some amazing things about me on the Internet?”
Her face became an innocent mask. “You don’t say?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “Any ideas on who that person could be?”
She shuddered when he whispered the last question bare millimeters from her ear, then replied breathily, “Sounds like super-meddlesome pod people.” Her hands flexed against his sides when his teeth nipped at her earlobe. “Gremlins are another strong possibility I’d put on the suspect list.”
God, the woman drove him crazy. In all the best possible ways.
Leaning forward swiftly, he captured her chin and angled her face up to his, taking possession of her lips, in a deep, sinking, melt-your-bones way, until a small sound rumbled out of his chest.
He had no idea how long the kiss lasted, but by the time he released her and put at least a foot between them, he was sucking wind as if he’d sprinted a few miles. Her reddened lips and bedroom eyes were effectively sending what little blood he had left in his brain due south.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. Not for the kiss itself but because he’d been seconds from throwing her on the butcher block and going a lot further than a kiss . . . in her place of business with at least a dozen curious folks on just the other side of the kitchen wall. “This probably wasn’t the right time for—”
“No, don’t apologize,” she replied, gazing up at him with heated eyes. “I’m actually due for a break. We could go upstairs and—”
Holy hell. He yanked her into another kiss before she could finish that dangerous suggestion, which she gave back as good as she got, in classic Emma style. Arguing with him, driving him crazy. Only this time with just her lips.
And tongue.
And good lord, her teeth.
Breathing hard, and just plain hard everywhere else, he somehow managed to tear himself away to say the one thing he’d come here to say. “Second official date. Tonight.”
She just nodded mutely, a dazed look on her face as she touched her lips lightly with her fingers in wonder.
“And thank you, sweetheart. For everything you did online, and with Sally, and Kim.”
She shook her head. “It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal. You’re incredible, Emma Stevens.” His voice grew thick with emotion. “No one’s ever done for me what you did.”
“Gush about you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread?” she asked, eyes crinkling at the corners.
He shook his head. “You defended me. Protected me. Fought for me. Despite everything in our past, despite having every reason not to, you continue to choose to believe I’m worth all of that. Unconditionally. Based on blind faith alone. I’ve never had that before.”
In fact, he’d never felt he even deserved any of that before today.
Before Emma.
Chapter Twenty
Emma peeked through her window and frowned at the sight of Jake rolling out his sleeping bag in the back of his truck.
The most stubborn, sweetest man alive, ladies and gentlemen.
With his living a few hours away, their staying out late tonight meant he’d get only an hour or so of sleep before having to turn right back around to make it to work at the library in the morning. But there’d been a perfectly great solution to that problem . . .
She sighed as she looked back at her empty bed. It made no sense at all that there wasn’t a warm, slumbering lumberjack in it right now.
Tonight had been their third date—the third date. And at the end of it, when he didn’t catch any of her subtle hints, she’d actually flat-out asked him to stay over. Not because of some arbitrary third-date expectations set by society. Nope, these were 100 percent personal reasons through and through. She didn’t need society to tell her she wanted the man. Bad.
But aside from one hungry look of pure, intense temptation, he’d declined. With a gruff single head shake . . . shortly before he’d sunk his fingers in her hair and imprinted her body with a near-savage kiss as a rather spectacular thank-you for the offer.
And now here he was camping in a sleeping bag in the back of his truck.
Dang it, he was just such a good guy. How many men would do this after a date to ensure he got enough shut-eye for a grueling shift of work the next day?
None that she knew.
Which was precisely why she found herself standing beside his truck in the middle of the night, staring at his handsome sleeping face.
Climbing up onto
the tire quietly, she eased herself into the bed carefully, not wanting to accidentally step on something vital.
He didn’t stir. He’d been like that the few nights he’d slept at her place after his coma; she’d actually nudged him a few times to make sure he was still responsive.
Tonight she didn’t need to check. He was quite obviously very responsive at the moment, if the fit of his jeans was any indication. Even with the lack of visibility from the soft streetlight above, she could clearly see that the sweet, handsome, honk-your-tractor-if-you’re-from-Kansas farm boy had definitely grown up.
“Into freaking Superman with a hammer,” she murmured with no small amount of awe and appreciation.
“You mean Thor,” he rumbled sleepily.
She froze in her pervy perusal and played possum.
At her continued silence, he peeked a heavy eyelid open a fraction. “You said Superman with a hammer. Superman doesn’t have a hammer.”
She glanced down and exhaled slowly, whispering under her breath, “Oh, yes, he does.”
That’s when she felt every muscle in his body harden alongside her and his arms snap around her like steel bands. She gasped. But not in fear.
“Emma?”
“Yes?”
“Do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t move.”
“Okay.”
It took a few shuddering breaths for his body to relax. Another few seconds and he was turning to face her. “If I open my eyes again, will you be looking at my, uh, ‘hammer,’ again?”
Oh God. Hearing her words in his voice was a thousand times worse. Thank goodness it was dark enough he couldn’t see her face on fire.
“You’re blushing,” he marveled, sounding pleased as punch.
Dammit!
“You’re practically burning up next to me.” His lips curved up at the corners. “So I take it that means you’re still perving on my package?”
She whacked him. “I haven’t been perving on anything.”
He opened his eyes, one brow raised to call her on her fib. “I have excellent night vision, sweets.”
“Fine. I may have . . . glanced in that direction.” She blinked innocently. “But that was only because it was practically saluting me.”
He chuckled. “Yeah well, you can thank yourself for that. I can’t seem to keep him from ‘saluting’ whenever you’re nearby smelling like . . .” Nuzzling closer to her neck, he murmured appreciatively, “Sugar and sass.”
She found the hem of his shirt and slipped her hands underneath, nipping at his lip in a pure feral response when she finally felt all those glorious muscles she’d been seeing for weeks now. Beneath her palms, his stomach tightened as his similarly roaming hands made a discovery of their own.
“You’re not wearing any shorts under this T-shirt,” he rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest. “Or a bra.”
“I was getting ready for bed.” She began tracing the ripped muscles across his back, her fingertips practically humming in appreciation.
“You walked outside practically naked.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
He tensed. “You climbed into my truck bed practically naked.”
She took a deep breath and inhaled a lungful of lust to bolster her courage. “Okay, so maybe I wanted to do more than talk.”
“Good lord, woman. I’m trying to be a good guy here. Just because it’s our third date doesn’t mean we have to have sex.”
“True. But you said it yourself—we’ve basically been dating for a few months, just without the official labels.”
He had no comeback for that. Excellent. She was wearing him down. “Jake?”
“Yeah?”
She decided to go with honesty. “What if I tell you that yes, I want to have sex with you, but even if you want to wait, what I had come out here to ask you was if you would like to come up to my bed and cuddle with me again. Only . . . this time with some kissing involved? Those two nights you slept in my bed, all I could think about was how you felt next to me, how much I wanted you to kiss me—”
She’d never seen a human move so quickly.
He had her scooped her up in his arms within the blink of an eye, shortly before he hopped over the side of his truck in a single bound.
“I think you might actually be Superman.”
His arms tightened around her as he got them to her shop in two long strides, inside the bakery with the door locked behind them in under a second. “Stop with the superhero compliments, woman. Or I won’t be able to make it up the stairs.”
“Frankly, I don’t see how you can walk with that giant thing at all.” She wriggled in his arms, enjoying having the upper hand for once. “Is that why they call you the man of steel?”
Growling softly, he stopped his staircase climb a few steps from the top landing and set her down gently . . . before pinning her back against the landing and caging her in with his arms.
His lips were on hers an instant later.
Suddenly all jokes disappeared from her brain, along with almost every other coherent thought she possessed.
He’d been holding back before. That much was clear. With just his lips, teeth, and tongue, he was already bringing her close to the edge. “Jake.”
He yanked himself back and stared down into her eyes. “Too fast?”
She shook her head.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Her hands flexed against his sides in alarm as she shook her head again adamantly, almost violently this time.
“Words, baby. Use your words.”
“Don’t stop.”
He exhaled harshly and crushed his lips to hers again. God she loved it. Loved feeling him lose control. Loved losing control along with him.
Shaking his head, he dropped down to his elbows and speared his hands through her hair. “You could try the patience of the pope.”
“And you could tempt a pair of panties off a mannequin. I thought we were going to stop with the superhero compliments.”
Grinning now in that wicked, wicked way he did sometimes, he dropped down one step lower and leaned back so he could run his eyes over her body slowly. Very slowly. She felt like prey. Well, prey that was about ready to ambush her predator.
“You’re absolutely right, sweetheart.” He slid his rough palms up her thighs. “You’re dangerous to my control when you speak.”
“To be fair, I stopped making references to anything related to your pitching a tent,” she argued innocently.
“No more dirty talking from you.” He pulled her flush against him and quickly fastened his lips on hers. A nanosecond later, he slipped his hands under her shirt and stole her ability to speak completely.
Emma didn’t know which delicious sensation to focus on more, his palms smoothing up over her rib cage or his lips dropping soft kisses down her belly.
“It’s too dark here to see if these panties are pink.”
Or she could just lose herself in that deep, sexy voice of his and try to keep from orgasming.
His thumbs brushed over her nipples just as his thick beard rubbed over the sensitive crest of her hip bone. “Are they?” he breathed the question across the fabric he was so curious about. “Pink? Like the ones you were wearing the other night?”
Seriously, at this point, if he huff and puffed in just the right spot, he could blow her house down.
He smiled against her skin as if hearing her thoughts. “Quiet all of a sudden.”
Did the man really expect her to be able to speak with his mouth rasping over her center? Close but not nearly close enough.
She was just about to take matters into her own hands—literally—when he dragged her curious fingers away from the front of his jeans and threaded their hands together . . . behind the small of her back.
Though he was more holding her, rather than restraining her, the alpha-sexiness of it all was enough to flood her with an arousal so close to the edge, she lifted her hips in a
silent plea.
Which he answered by dipping his head down and tracing his tongue over the seam of her sex.
“Jake,” she gasped, her body practically vibrating with need.
The breathy, uninhibited utterance earned her a brief moment of freedom, before he gently manacled both her wrists with one hand, and used the other to—swear to God—rip her panties from her body.
She was halfway past detonation and strung out with pleasure when she felt him slip two thick fingers inside her as he fastened his mouth over her core.
It didn’t take much more after that.
More hot, wet suction.
His fingertips curling over a magical spot she’d always thought was missing in her anatomical makeup.
His eyes locking on hers in a silent promise of even more unspeakably dirty things.
Then his teeth grazing over her until she cried out.
She was a goner.
By the time he slid his tongue in deep, she was spiraling over the edge, his rough, ragged growl against her sensitive flesh sending her shattering, scattering into a thousand cataclysmic pieces.
And somehow she never felt more whole, and more inexplicably tethered, than she did in that one turbulent, riotous moment.
Holy hell.
Jake had barely managed to keep himself from coming right alongside her and making a mess of his jeans. He placed one last kiss on her soft belly before gently scooping her up into his arms. “Dammit, I can’t believe I did this on the stairs. I’m sorry, baby.”
Thank God he’d at least been able to control himself enough to take her to the top of the stairs before, well, taking her. The street was a ghost town at night, and the stairs were situated behind a curtain and far enough back behind the bakery counter that no one outside could really see up the stairwell, but still. The idea of anyone else seeing Emma’s lush body made him a little crazy.
He looked down into her dazed eyes and couldn’t help but smile. It was a good look on her he intended to draw out again, but on top of a proper bed this time.