Stealing His Heart

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Stealing His Heart Page 15

by Diane Alberts


  “No worries, man. It happens to the best of us.” Cooper rubbed his jaw. “Did you sleep at all last night? Or the night before that?”

  “No, not really,” he admitted. He rubbed his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you look like hell. Gordon does, too .”

  Jake chuckled. “Yeah. I know. I heard he went out with the IT guy after we talked to him.”

  “That dude can drink. But back on topic—maybe you need a change of scenery.” Cooper tossed an envelope on his desk. “I have a new assignment for you in Florida.”

  Great.

  An assignment would take his mind off Tara.

  He opened the envelope before looking back at Jake. “There’s no intel in here. Only tickets and an address.”

  “I know.” Cooper leaned against the door. “This is all my fault. I shoved you and Tara together, and you lost her. I feel like shit about it—Kayla’s pissed, too. I have to fix it.”

  “Dude. Don’t worry about it. I never really had her in the first place.” He tossed the tickets on the desk. “We were fucking around. It’s not like she loved me or anything so insane as that.”

  Cooper cocked his head. “Do you love her?”

  “What?” He scoffed. “No. Fuck no. No.”

  “If you say no one more time, we both might believe it.”

  Jake stood. “Look. I appreciate you being my friend, and I appreciate the drinks last night, too. But I don’t need you in here asking me—”

  “You weren’t around when I met Kayla…and almost lost her. You didn’t see how much of a fucking mess I was when I realized I’d ruined my chances at being happy. I couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t stop thinking about her and how I had to find a way to get her back.”

  “Is there a point to this?” Jake asked drily. “I mean, I like you and all, but I don’t really do the whole love-story crap. Not without a bottle of tequila in me, anyway.”

  “You might not do it, but you’re in it right now.” Cooper grinned. “You’re me, a few short months ago. Go get her. Show her how miserable you are, make a grand gesture of some sort, and win her back. I have it on great authority that grand gestures always work.”

  Jake frowned at the envelope, his cheeks heating up. Was he so fucking obvious about his feelings that even his boss noticed? Son of a bitch. His fingers twitched in his lap. He wanted to go. Wanted to chase after her. But what would he say? Sorry for fucking you over, but can you maybe forget about that and love me instead of hate me?

  He cleared his throat and pushed the tickets away. “I’m sorry if my work ethics have been lacking lately, but I can improve on those. I don’t need to fly to Florida to do that.”

  “Yeah, you do.” Cooper crossed the room and slid the envelope back at him with two fingers. “When you find someone who makes you feel like Tara does, you don’t let her go without fighting for her. Know what my biggest fear, besides losing Kayla, is?”

  “No, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

  “I’m scared of public speaking. Like, the freezing and pissing my pants while simultaneously vomiting, type of scared. I kid you not,” Cooper said, sitting in the chair in front of Jake’s desk. Despite himself, Jake leaned in. “Know what I did when I thought I couldn’t get Kayla back? I hopped on a stage, grabbed a mic, and spit my heart out in front of her whole family.”

  Jake’s lips twitched. “It worked, I take it?”

  “It did. Grand fucking gesture, baby.” Cooper grinned. “You need to do that.”

  “Get on a microphone and make an ass out of myself?”

  Cooper waved dismissively. “Not necessarily. Do something to show her you want her back. Show her you’re serious. Show her how much she means to you. Chicks dig that shit.”

  He picked up the airline tickets. He hated flying. It was too high up in the sky for his comfort. If men were supposed to fly, they would have been born with wings, not feet. “Like flying to Florida?”

  “Exactly,” Cooper said, standing. “I won’t expect you back until the return flight next week, and it better be with her. There’s a ticket for her, too.”

  “I’ll try my best.” When a thought occurred to him, he stood abruptly. “Wait.”

  Cooper turned at the door. “Yeah?”

  “If I can pull off a miracle and get her to agree, would you hire her as a background technician? Or a recovery specialist?”

  Cooper laughed. “Sure. But good luck with that one. She probably hates me more than she hates you.”

  The door closed behind him, and Jake took a deep breath. This wouldn’t be easy, but Cooper was right. He was miserable without Tara, and there was only one way to fix that.

  He had to find a way to get her back.

  …

  A few measly hours later, Jake pulled his baseball hat over his head and slid his shades higher on his nose. Clouds were rolling in, and so was a storm. He could smell it in the air. Sense it in the wind. Hell, he could feel it in his fucking bones.

  He stood there, on her walkway, trying to think of the best thing to say to her. At first, she would be surprised to see him. She’d probably thought she’d never have to see him again. But she hadn’t counted on him falling for her, and neither had he.

  The whole flight down to Florida, he’d tried to come up with some big gesture to show her he wanted her back. To show her he cared about her. That she’d shown him that he wanted more out of life than loner-ville.

  He hadn’t come up with a damn thing.

  The big house she’d holed up in rose three stories, and it was a modern cookie-cutter mansion with white shutters and big windows. The structure was easily five times the size of his home, but it still managed to look inviting with pretty flowers all lined up the stone pathway. The red door was shut, as were all the windows. Locked up tight.

  Just like she’d be to him once she knew he was back.

  He walked around the back of the house, taking off his sandals once he hit the sand. It had been a hell of a long time since he felt the hot stuff between his toes. Afghanistan didn’t count. That had been hell. He had thought it ruined him for sand. Thought it had ruined everything, in a way that his parents’ deaths hadn’t.

  But then Tara had proved him wrong. She’d saved him.

  She was the exception to his brokenness. As he rounded the corner, he found her. She was lying on a lounge chair, eyes shut. A gold bikini barely covered her essential parts, and his mouth dried out. He scanned the area, looking for any men watching his Tara, but no one was nearby. Not a single person in sight.

  Thank fucking God.

  He dropped his bag and crept closer, his attention on the flat part of her stomach, right above her bikini. It begged to be nibbled on. Hell, every inch of her needed to be tasted by him. One way or the other, he’d find a way to convince her she should forgive him. He wouldn’t give up on her. On them.

  They were meant to be.

  He swiped his palms on his pants. “Hello, sweetheart.”

  She sat upright immediately, her lids flying open. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her perfect mouth dropped into an O shape. “Jake? What… Why… What the hell?”

  “Did you miss me?”

  She shook her head slightly. “Why are you here?”

  “I missed you like hell. I can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t live without you making my life exciting. Putting stickers on my car and feng shui-ing my house. All that shit—I miss it. I miss you.” He wasn’t going to pussyfoot around. When he wanted something, he went after it. And he wanted Tara, in his arms, preferably naked. Forever. “Did you miss me at all? Never mind. I can tell you did.”

  Her mouth opened and closed, but she didn’t respond. She seemed to be in too much shock to form a reply. Not once in his life had he ever seen her at a loss for words. That was a promising start to his mission…maybe. Or maybe she was just trying to think of the best way to tell him to go fuck himself.

  Either way, he wasn’t giving up.

&n
bsp; “Miss you? No. I haven’t thought of you at all.”

  Ouch. That hurt, but it would have hurt a lot more if she were telling the truth. She’d averted her eyes as she spoke. She was lying through her pretty little teeth. He stepped closer to her, letting his shadow fall over her. “The hell you haven’t.”

  She lifted her chin and stared him down. “I don’t want you here. Go away.”

  “That I believe.” He dropped to his knees at the side of her chair. “I fucked up, and I know it. I hurt you. Can you give me a chance to kiss it and make it better?”

  She crossed her arms, hugging tight. “No. Not a chance in hell.”

  “Please.” He reached out and cupped her cheeks. To his surprise, she didn’t shove him off right away. “I’m sorry I lied to you. Sorry I made you feel as if I didn’t care. I did. I do. So much, sweetheart.”

  She tilted her chin up. “You lied to me. Used me.”

  “I know.” He hesitated, feeling compelled to explain himself. To make her see why he’d done what he had. But he couldn’t think of how to say it. The words wouldn’t come. He was choking up and ruining everything. “I—”

  She pressed her lips together. “You blackmailed me. And lied to me. That’s all I know, and all I need to know.”

  “I won’t lie to you anymore.” He caught her gaze, hoping she could see that he was telling the truth. “Ever again.”

  She laughed bitterly. “Bullshit. Everyone lies.”

  He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Why are you always so sure you know everything?”

  “Because I do.” She slapped his touch away. “Please stop doing that.”

  His blood pounded. She’d gone soft under his fingers before she rejected him. She might want to be over him, but she so clearly wasn’t. “Tell me you haven’t thought about me since you left.”

  “Jake.” She pushed him off. “What game are you playing? Why are you really here? Is something wrong with the code I gave you? Are you here to arrest me again?”

  “There’s no game. No blackmail. Not this time.”

  “Then what do you want from me?”

  He stood and pulled her to her feet, not dropping his hold. “I’ll tell you what I want. I want a second chance.”

  “Someone once told me second chances were a waste of time.”

  He cringed. “He sounds like an asshole.”

  “He is,” she agreed.

  “I fucked up. In order to protect the one thing I care about the most, I screwed everything up.” He ran his fingers down her cheek, and she trembled. She might be protesting her desire, but she still wanted him as much as she had before he’d betrayed her. She didn’t want to admit it. “Give me a chance to do things right.”

  She watched him suspiciously, her brows low. “Not if you were the last man on earth, and we were the only ones left to carry on the human race. Not if God himself came down from the clouds and asked me nicely. Not if—”

  “—there was a zombie apocalypse?”

  “I’d sooner eat your rotting flesh,” she said in a rush.

  His lips twitched, and he let out a laugh. She looked at him in surprise. “See? That’s one of the reasons I need you. You make me laugh when I’d thought I forgot how.”

  “So do funny movies.” She stood up. “I suggest you watch one of them and leave me out of it. I’m not yours anymore.”

  Yes, she was.

  He stalked toward her. She backed against the brick wall. She’d retreated, but she still stared at him defiantly. As if she wasn’t scared of anything he might do to her. As if he held no power over her anymore. If it she didn’t give a shit about him anymore?

  He was fucked.

  Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled her sweet scent. She shivered and gripped his shoulders, a small sound escaping her lips. He waited for her to push him away. To reject him. But she didn’t. He nibbled on her shoulder, right next to her bikini strap. “You said you wanted to save me. I figured out how you can do that. Don’t send me away.” He pulled back. “Don’t shut me out now. Save me.”

  She wiggled free. “It’s too late. You’re too late.”

  She shut the door, and he covered his face with his hands, taking a steadying breath. Okay. That hadn’t gone as well as he’d planned, but that was all right. He’d do better next time. She needed to a few hours to come to terms with his presence, and then he’d come back. But first? He’d plan his next attack.

  This was a war of sorts.

  One he had every intention of winning.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two freaking days.

  That’s how long Jake had been showing up on her doorstep. She’d rejected him each and every time, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Whenever she heard his voice through her door, her resolve to resist him died a bit more.

  So did her anger.

  Tara shut down the shower, dried off, and pulled a yellow sundress over her head. Crossing the room barefoot, she turned and flopped back on the bed. How long would it be until her doorbell rang again? Or would he call her and whisper naughty things in her ear, telling her with vivid detail how much he wanted to strip her naked and lick every single inch of her?

  Twice.

  She shouldn’t want to give him another chance. Shouldn’t want him at all. If she bent for him, if she became his in every way, she’d have to stop thieving. She’d have to go straight. He’d make her. He’d insist on changing her. And she didn’t want to change.

  But yet, she did.

  For that short time she’d been his, she had wanted something more out of life than the next thrill. She’d seen a future with Jake, one with kids playing in his backyard. One where she wasn’t in danger of going to jail every time she reported for work.

  And she’d wanted it so badly.

  The doorbell rang. It would be him. She didn’t move off the bed. Eventually, he would go away. He always did. But this time…he didn’t. He kept ringing the bell. After five minutes, her phone dinged. She picked it up with bated breath.

  It was a text from Jake. Open the door. I left a present. Don’t leave it in the heat.

  A present that couldn’t be left in heat. What the heck could it be?

  Holding her phone to her chest, she went downstairs and peeked out the peephole. He was gone, but the package he’d texted her about sat on her doorstep. She drummed her fingers on the wall. It could be a trap. Maybe he planned to force his way in as soon as she unlocked the door. But she couldn’t not open the door.

  Not without knowing what was in the package.

  He knew that about her, too. Sneaky bastard.

  Slowly, she undid the lock and crept onto the porch. Bending down, she studied the box. It was about the size of a case of beer, and it had holes poked in the top. Heart racing with excitement, she grabbed the package and backed into the house, her attention darting all around her yard. Looking for him.

  If he was still there, he’d hidden well. After she closed the door behind her, she set the box down, sat down beside it, and tore it open. It was…

  A kitten. He’d gotten her a kitten. A little fluffy orange fur ball of a kitten. It had bright blue eyes, and it meowed as soon as she lifted the cardboard.

  “Hello, kitty.” She smiled at the creature. “You’re so cute.”

  He snuggled in her lap, looking all too content to do so. Tara petted him and hugged him close, her mind racing. Of all the things she had suspected might be on her porch, a kitten was not one of them. The cat was the live version of the stuffed animal he’d won her at the carnival last week. He even had a blue collar on his neck, just like the fake one, and a name tag.

  Tara caught the little fishy tag and squinted at it. I belong to Tara and Jake.

  He’d put his address under the line, and then a heart. He’d actually bought the cat for the two of them to share. Of all the sneaky, backhanded…adorable things to do, this was pretty high up there. “What game is he playing, huh?” she asked the cat.

 
; The cat blinked at her and meowed.

  Her phone rang, and she scrambled to juggle the squirming creature while answering without checking the caller ID. She knew who it would be, after all. “Hello?”

  “I see you got your delivery,” Jake said, his voice soft and tender.

  “I did.” Tara smiled down at the cat and petted his soft back. “Why did you buy me a cat?”

  “You’re a cat burglar. What better gift?”

  She choked on a laugh. “You hate cats.”

  “I know.” He laughed lightly. “But you love them.”

  Despite herself, Tara grinned and shook her head. She toyed with the tag. “Is this supposed to make me forgive you? A cute pet?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Well, that and the speech I have ready.”

  “You have a speech?”

  “Yep. I wrote it down and everything.” He paused. “Right before I left for war, we went to the mall and walked around the pet store. Do you remember?”

  Tara closed her eyes, picturing the shop with perfect clarity. He’d been so skinny and young then, in his black jeans and gray T-shirt. He’d been watching her in the store that night with a tender expression on his face. He’d been different that night. Something about the way he’d touched her, smoothing her hair behind her ear like he’d done a million times before, had caused her heart to skip.

  It had been the night they almost slept together. The night she’d given herself to him completely, and he’d left her. “Yeah. I remember.”

  “You saw an orange kitten, and you wanted to buy him. I offered to get him for you”—Jake gave a little laugh—“even though I was broke. But you said—”

  She closed her eyes. “Grandma would kill me.”

  “Yeah. You sounded so sad, and you held your hand out to him and sighed. He pawed at your fingers through the cage, and you bit down hard on your lip. You seemed so determined not to want him, but you obviously did. Then you straightened your spine and walked away without looking back.”

  Tara swallowed hard. “How do you remember all of that?”

  “Because when you walked away from that cat, he watched you with big, sad eyes. I couldn’t help thinking that one day…I’d be that cat.” He sighed. “That I’d be the one watching you walk away without looking back. So I walked away first.”

 

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