He forced a laugh, though the idea of walking around a carnival with her wasn’t the most appalling thing he’d ever considered. The opposite, actually. “No.”
She tugged. He didn’t budge, but he didn’t let go, either. “If you take me out, I promise I’ll work tomorrow without a complaint. I’ll be all serious, helpful, adult, and all that stuff.”
He snorted. “That sounded so convincing. Especially the ‘and stuff’ part.”
“I’m serious,” she said, her blue eyes pinning him into place. “Let’s go.”
He shook his head and turned away. No way in hell he was going to let her cajole him and work her magic like she used to. He wasn’t that gullible anymore. “I can’t take the day off. I have a job. Responsibilities. Deadlines.”
“Oh, come on.” She batted her lashes at him.
He’d known she would try it, but he couldn’t help but be affected. His resolve to refuse her every whim slipped, and it was on the tip of his tongue to agree to take her to the carnival just to see her smile at him again. Just to make her happy—for old times’ sake. Damn her and her eyelashes.
“Please?” she asked, her tone soft and pleading.
“No.” Gathering his tattered resolve, he pulled free and headed for the couch. “Do some work first like a good little girl, and then maybe we’ll go to the carnival.”
She followed him. “That’s no fun.”
“Responsible people work, and then play once they’re finished.”
“‘All work and no play makes Jake a dull boy,’” she quoted.
He stared down at his knees. “That’s fine. I can live with being dull, as long as people know they can rely on me to get the job done. Speaking of which…”
Opening the notebook on the table, he sighed. He had to work. Adults such as himself had real responsibilities and duties—and damn it, he wanted to go to the fucking carnival.
Maybe he could win her a big stuffed kitten, like he used to, and she would let him name it. He couldn’t help but wonder what happened to all of the animals he had won for her over the years. Once upon a time, she’d loved them, because she hadn’t had any real pets.
Why didn’t she have any now? No one was stopping her anymore. She’d always wanted a cat. An orange one. “Tell me exactly what you did when you broke in.”
“I’m trying to remember.” She flopped down next to him dramatically. “I really don’t remember what I did. I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
“Yeah, you are.” Pulling the cap of the pen off with his teeth, he turned to her and froze. She stared at his mouth, much as he’d probably been doing to hers earlier. Fuck. He cleared his throat, and she tore her gaze off his lips. “You went into the safe. Then you…?”
She flipped her long, wavy brown hair over a shoulder. A dimple popped out to play when she pressed her lips together, then promptly hid again. “I plugged my phone in.”
“Your phone?”
“Yeah. It tells me what I need to know once it’s connected.”
He shook his head. “They really do have an app for everything, don’t they?”
“They do, but I developed this one.” Leaning forward, she picked up her mug and sipped her coffee. “Or, my team did, anyway.”
He blinked. “You have a whole fucking team?”
“Yeah.” She peeked at him out of the corner peripheral vision. “I have a business, Jake. Not a hobby. It’s legit—mostly.”
“Yeah. Sure,” he scoffed. “And I’m the president of the United States.”
She clunked her coffee mug down. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He tapped the pen on the side of the notebook. “What did you do after you used your nifty little homemade app?”
“I got the vase and got the hell out of there before I got caught.”
“Too bad I caught you anyway,” he said, his voice hard. “How many times have you been caught?”
“None.”
“One,” he corrected.
She took another sip, ignoring him. “Can we go now? It’s the last day the carnival is in town.”
“You’re like a child who won’t give up.” He picked up his own coffee. A surge of irritation at her behavior hit him, but he fought it back. “What is it going to take to get you to concentrate?”
“Easy. A carnival trip.”
He dropped his head against the back of the couch, amusement at her steadfastness warring with his irritation at her insistence that they go to the carnival. “Jesus, Tara.”
She laughed and set her mug down. “What? It’s true.”
He slammed the notebook shut. “If I take you to the carnival will you actually work tonight? If we don’t get this finished—”
“I go to jail. Yeah, yeah. I know. I heard you the first million times. And, yes. I will.” She held one hand up and placed the other on her heart. “I solemnly swear that as soon as we get home, I’ll try to remember what I did. And tomorrow, I’ll wake up early and be at your beck and call all day long. Happy?”
“Yeah.” He had a tic in his cheek. That’s what she did to him. “Fucking thrilled.”
She arched a brow. “You curse a lot more than you used to.”
“Yeah.” He stood carefully, making sure not to put too much pressure on his left leg. “Is it open yet?”
Her gaze dipped down, then back up. For a second, he thought she would make a comment about his injured leg. But she gave him a smile. “Are you kidding me? The daytime is the best time to go because it’s not as full. And you don’t have to fight through all the annoying teenagers.”
He turned away. “We used to be them, you know.”
“Used to be. But now we’re the annoying old people going to the carnival, and want nothing to do with the old us.”
He grabbed his mug, and hers. “Let me clean up the mess and then we’ll go.”
“Wait.” She stood and took it back. “I’m not done with my coffee yet.”
“It’s cold.”
She took another sip. “No, it’s not. It’s drinkable.”
He stared at her, unable to understand this woman’s train of thought. Reaching out, he touched the porcelain, his fingers brushing hers. It was lukewarm at best. “No. It’s cold.”
She laughed breathlessly; her cheeks flushed pink. “Is everything black and white for you?”
Yeah. He wouldn’t touch her because she wasn’t his, and he wasn’t good enough for her. On top of that, they were only together for a short time to do some mutual work. Black and white. No gray. He cocked a brow at her. “Do I really need to answer that?”
“Nope.” She laughed and checked out his living room. “You know, this room would be a lot more inviting if I—”
He clamped his jaw tight. “Oh, hell no. Don’t think it. Don’t look at my living room like that.”
She turned to him with a furrowed brow. “Like what?”
“Like you want to feng wui it.”
She burst into laughter. “It’s feng shui.”
“Whatever.” He headed for the kitchen. “Keep your chakra off my shit.”
“But—”
“No.”
He stalked over to the sink and washed his mug. He couldn’t believe he was going to a fucking carnival, of all places. On a workday. During business hours. Sure, he’d already told Cooper he would be staying home today, so it wasn’t a big deal. And if it took a little bit of fun to get her to cooperate, then it was all for the greater good. And truth be told?
He wanted to go.
Wanted to be the man he’d once been, before all this shit went down. Wanted to be the man he’d been when he was with her…if only for a few hours. Then he’d go back to being the new him. The one who never stepped out of line.
The one he didn’t even really like.
Chapter Five
Tara shoved her sunglasses higher, grinning as she took in the bustle and energy of the carnival. She always felt so alive at this type of event. So free and energized.
She stood at the booth of stickers, bending forward to study each one. The scent of baking funnel cake teased her senses. She’d have to stop by that booth before they left. Maybe she’d get some cotton candy, too. Her gaze latched on a round sticker toward the back of the table. It would be perfect.
“Oh, I’ll take that one, too, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the young man behind the table said, eyeing her boobs the whole time. “That’ll be twenty.”
After she dug the cash out, she peeked over her shoulder. Behind her, a couple swung a toddler in between them, and her giggles filled the air. She forced her attention away from the charming scene. She had to finish this transaction before Jake came back. The man gave her the merchandise, and Tara grinned as she shoved the stickers inside her purse.
She had big plans for these, but it would have to wait.
For now, she needed to quickly act innocent because Jake was almost at her side. She wandered off, trying to look as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But she did.
A lot of them.
Jake walked past the family she’d been watching, not even a hint of a smile playing at his lips. He looked as if he were on death row, rather than at a place where most people would be having fun. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Jake was a different man. And, yeah, people grew up.
But he’d really, really changed.
It was growing increasingly hard to believe this straitlaced man was the same boy who tied her shoelaces together so she tripped. The same one who replaced her conditioner with mayonnaise not once…not twice…but three times.
The knowledge that the fun boy he’d been might truly be gone left her feeling empty inside. And sad. So, so sad for him. He might be trying to blackmail her into submission—which would not work at all—but she had to save him.
It was time someone brought some laughter back in his life.
When he stumbled in his stride a little, he curled his hands into fists. After standing still for a little while, he mumbled something under his breath, straightened his back, and walked a little slower. Her heart twisted at his obvious frustration. He didn’t like what he perceived as his “weakness.” His “imperfection.” She knew it drove him insane, though he probably told himself otherwise.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” He smoothed his short brown hair, his focus on the table next to her. “Why do they have New York Giants bumper stickers in Maine?”
“I have no idea.” She traced the corner of the sticker. “Still hate them?”
His stony expression was more than enough answer.
When they’d decided to come to the carnival, he’d changed into a pair of torn jeans and a green T-shirt. In the bright afternoon sun, he looked devilishly handsome, and she wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of his body. To rip that shirt off his chest and lick the contours of his muscles.
But instead, she rolled her eyes. “So some things don’t change.”
“Some things never change.”
“And the Yankees?”
“Tara.” He crossed himself. “Don’t speak that name in my presence.”
She burst into laughter. “Another joke?”
“Who’s joking? I’m dead fucking serious.”
Her laughter trickled off and she shook her head. Stopping in front of a game stand, she nodded toward it. “Do you still have a killer arm?”
“Please.” He walked to the worker, pulling cash out of his pocket as he walked. “Ready to be amazed, sweetheart?”
Her breathing hitched at the familiar nickname. It had driven her grandmother crazy, because Jake wasn’t good enough for her. But then again, according to her grandmother, no man had been good enough. “Oh yeah. I’m ready.”
He flexed his arm. Light shone in his gaze as he picked up the white ball. It was in that moment that she knew he was having fun, whether he ever admitted it or not. Her heart fluttered in her chest. This was what she’d wanted to see. Jake, being Jake.
Not the automated robot he’d turned into.
He let loose. His ball hit right on target, making a bell ring shrilly. He nodded his head decisively. “I’m calling it now. You better start picking out your favorite animal.”
She laughed, checking out the biggest prizes on the top shelf. He’d always won her the best ones, and she’d kept them all. Still, to this day, they were in her guest room, lined up like some shrine to Jake. It was kind of pathetic, but whatever.
She liked them, and the memories that came with them.
She couldn’t help but wonder if this new addition would hold pleasant memories or bad. He hauled back and let loose another throw, once again hitting dead center. The worker crossed his arms and watched skeptically, looking as if he hated his job.
After a second’s hesitation, Jake picked up the last ball and held it out for her. “Good-luck charm time.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Seriously?”
“You know it’s the only way this works.”
Tara smiled, but ducked her head low so he couldn’t see her expression. Seeing him like this again was amazing, and she loved it. “You’re so superstitious.”
Without blinking, he kept his heated gaze on her. “Do it.”
She held on to his wrist lightly. Leaning down, she placed a kiss right in the center, her heart thudding in her ears the whole time. Instead of pulling back right away, she nibbled on his skin, then flicked her tongue over the bite.
His body stiffened, and he groaned. Low and guttural and sexy.
She lifted her head and stared at him. Tried to convey how willing she would be to do that to other parts of his body. Namely, all of them. “There.”
“Right.” He swallowed hard. “Here goes nothing.”
Turning back to the booth, he took a shuddering breath and hurled the ball. It hit dead center, and he turned to her with a huge grin on his face. It was the first time she’d seen him smile since he’d stomped back into her life with his blackmail.
And it was breathtaking.
His green eyes shone like flawless emeralds, and he still had the dimples she used to swoon over as a girl. Freaking dimples, on top of the captivating one he had in his chin. “Pick your animal.”
“You did it.” She threw herself into his arms, squeezing him tight. Wanting to give him affection, mostly suspecting he’d had none in his life lately. “Thank you!”
For a second, he didn’t touch her. Didn’t return her hug. His arms hung at his sides, as if he didn’t know how to react to a simple kind gesture. But then he hauled her close and cupped her butt firmly. His fingers bit into her tender flesh.
“Tara,” he said, his voice hard and shattered all at once. Leaning in, he whispered, “You keep this up, and you’ll be on your back behind the Ferris wheel, and I’ll be so deep inside of you you’ll forget what it feels like not to have me there. Tread lightly.”
She shuddered, the ache between her thighs immediate and demanding. Wanting exactly what he’d said and more. “Maybe that’s not really a threat.”
He dug his fingers deeper. “Oh, it is. You have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into, sweetheart. No idea what I’m capable of. If you go to bed with me, you will submit. I won’t have it any other way.” He let go of her and moved away, his attention locked on her. “Now claim your prize.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “You. I claim you.”
But she forced her attention toward the booth, and the waiting clerk, despite the need eating her alive. “I’ll take the little orange cat, please.”
“You can get a bigger animal,” the man said, pointing at the upper shelf. “Anything from there.”
She shrugged. “I like the cat.”
“All right.” The man shook his head, but tossed her the tiny fur ball anyway. “Suit yourself.”
Smiling, she hugged the stuffed animal close and turned back to Jake. He watched her with a wrinkled brow. He looked almost as if someone had pu
nched him in the stomach or something. She paused, her foot in midair. “What?”
“The cat. It’s…” He shook his head. “Never mind, it’s nothing. Are you ready to go home? Had enough fun yet?”
“But we didn’t ride the Ferris wheel,” she protested, her heart picking up speed at the thought of him doing naughty things to her like he’d promised. “Or get cotton candy.”
His own gaze darkened, but he held his hand out for her. “Fine. Let’s go.”
She slid her fingers into his, and an electric shock skittered up her arm and straight to her stomach. They walked to the Ferris wheel in silence, her mind racing a mile a minute. She should probably keep her hands to herself.
Stop trying to make him smile and laugh and—whatever else she was hoping to do. Not even she knew.
After they climbed on, the Ferris wheel took off, and they were the only ones on it. Her whole life, she’d been surrounded by people. Servants. Family. Teachers. As a kid, she’d never been alone. Now…she was always alone. It was hard to get used to.
The shaky box surged forward, and Jake cursed. Gripping the sides, he glared at her. It wasn’t until they went up that she remembered how much he hated this ride. “Oh my God. You’re still scared of heights, aren’t you?”
He glowered straight ahead. “It’s not natural to be this high in the air.”
“So if I did this”—she grinned and wiggled her butt, shaking the cart. He white-knuckled the sides even more—“you wouldn’t like it?”
“Tara.” He finally turned her way, but he seemed as if he was contemplating throwing her over the side for his own safety. “Knock it off or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” she asked, cutting him off. She shook the cart again, and he cursed under his breath. “What will you do to me, big guy?”
He frowned at her. “The better question is what wouldn’t I do? I know you want me. Know you want to feel me moving inside of you, making you come so many times you lose count. I know you want me to dominate you. Take you. Fuck you. Own you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t—”
“Yes. You do. You want me to fuck you.” He leaned in, his hot breath on her ear. “But you’ll never find out how good that feels if you don’t knock it the hell off. Don’t shake the cart again.”
Stealing His Heart Page 5