Seducing Mr. Right

by Rebecca Rose

  Bruce had stopped leaving messages on her cell phone. Sophie felt so relieved that she ran out to buy the most awesome pair of red high heels she ever saw. A genuine smile crossed her face when she looked over the expense report. Things were starting to turn around. Her parents even accepted the fact that she wasn’t having a crisis of some kind, that she was a grown woman choosing her own career path.

  Sophie sipped her morning coffee then swiveled her new office chair to the cabinet behind her. The expense report showed that within the months she worked for the Sanders brothers, the business had an upswing of ten percent. She couldn’t help but feel proud as she filed the statement away. Of course, it was largely due to the Halloween party—but hey, it was only the beginning, and the holidays were just getting started.

  She turned back to her desk, but saw the couch out of the corner of her eye. A grin crept across her face as she thought of her and Jake’s steamy encounter. If she closed her eyes, Sophie could still feel his hands and lips on her. She wanted him in the worst way. He was dangerously gorgeous, and she would be fooling herself if she didn’t take the sexual attraction between them into account. But, somehow in the last few weeks, her lust for him had become an essential yearning to talk, laugh, and simply be within his presence. Something about Jake brought out her softer side. A grace Sophie usually only possessed when dancing because of her parents’ constant suffocation of her true character. With Jake she felt free to be who she was without worries of saying or doing the wrong thing. It even appeared that he enjoyed her occasional harsher edges.

  She was then saddened by the knowledge that her parents would never approve of Jake. Her heart ached for their approval, just this once. No, he didn’t have the country club breeding or the impeccable manners that never faltered even when challenged. Nope, none of that. Jake Sanders was a good man, plain and simple, and that was what mattered to her most. When she looked into his eyes, Sophie didn’t see the voided stare of a man’s true emotions gone UA, or Unauthorized Absence, as she found the Marines called it. Instead, she saw a man who would do anything for the people he loved, even if that meant keeping his distance. And that one fact, above all else, moved her heart in his direction. What would it be like to have him care for her like that? To know that he would do everything in his power to make sure she was safe and happy? Sophie never had anyone sacrifice it all for her before, and she wondered if, given the chance, Jake ever would.

  The knock came first, then Dave stuck his head in. “Hey, you have some swanky-looking visitors here.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope.” He gave her a hesitant smile. “I think they’re your parents. I heard them talking to Jake.”

  “Now that’s not funny, Dave.” She studied his expression and soon realized he was serious. “Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Sophie panicked and tried to find an escape route. There was always the window. She could fit through and make a run for it. Naw. That would leave Dave and Jake to deal with them. Oh, Lord, Jake’s out there with them! The thought got Sophie to her feet and moving. She opened the office door hard enough to bang it against the back wall and echo out into the dining area. Sophie had always been known for her door-smashing ability.

  They were sitting at the bar, and Jake was pouring her mother a glass of red wine. Sophie’s father gave his balding head a frustrated rub with one hand as he held a beer bottle in the other. It gave her a sense of pride whenever she saw his small rebellions. Her mother always said drinks should be sipped from a proper glass, not guzzled from a bottle.

  “Mother. Father.” Sophie put out her hands to them and kissed both their cheeks. She tried to keep the strain out of her voice, but in vain.

  Her mother smoothed her perfect chignon. “What in heaven’s name did you do to your hair? Blond, Sophie? Really, you must get it fixed right away.”

  “I happen to like it, Mother. What are you doing here?”

  “We wanted to see where our beautiful daughter has been hiding,” her father said.

  “I’m not hiding.” Sophie worked her way behind the bar. She took the bottle of water and the wink Jake offered. “Thank you. Mother, Father, this is Jake Sanders. Jake, these are my parents, Nathanial and Antoinette Agnés.”

  Jake shook hands with both. “Nice to meet you. Your daughter’s an incredible asset to our business.”

  “Why thank you, Jake.” Antoinette turned to her daughter with a sharp eye. “We don’t believe this is her true calling, but we will humor the idea until she decides to grow up.”

  “Okay,” Jake drew out. “I think I’m going to step on some toes here, but—”

  Sophie put a hand on Jake’s bicep and shook her head. “It’s all right.”

  Jake looked at her father and mother with disappointment then turned away. “I’ll be in the kitchen checking the menu for tonight,” he grumbled.

  “Thanks, Jake.” She watched him leave while her insides jumped with pure joy. He was trying to protect me! Wondering what he would have said to her parents if she hadn’t stopped him Sophie turned to see some of the regulars nod at her as if to say, Hey, we got your back. It comforted her to know how accepted she was—even if they were eavesdropping.

  Antoinette let out a long exasperated sigh while she smoothed the silky material of her pants. “I didn’t mean to upset your friend. Is he the man who accompanied you to Bruce’s? I must say, I can see why Bruce was so shaken after the two of you left.”

  “Jake didn’t threaten him, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

  “But his black eye!” her mother exclaimed.

  “I told you, I gave it to him. Did Bruce tell you Jake did?” Loathing filled her and was about to boil over when her father reached a hand out and touched hers.

  “We really are concerned for your welfare. Your mother and I don’t want to see you having an affectionate—well, you know what I’m saying—with someone who is less than suitable.”

  The laughter came first from Stuart then hoots from Louie. Sophie turned to the men and winked when Louie shouted, “Gunny, Jake? Hit someone? He’s a marshmallow. It’s this little lady you need to look out for.”

  “Father, Mother, ignore them. And I’ll say it again: Jake is not the one who hit Bruce. I am.”

  “I won’t believe that,” Antoinette stated with firm discontentment.

  “Well, if our little girl clocked him good, then I’m sure he deserved it,” Nathanial announced.

  “He did,” the deep voice behind Sophie said. “I’m Dave, Sophie’s boss.” He extended a hand. “My brother only went along to help move her things, but Brucie-Bruce had other ideas.”

  “Well, then, I’m glad Mr. Sanders was there. But, I still can’t imagine what Bruce would have done to get such a violent reaction out of you. He was always so—”

  “Mother, the man cheated on me and is moving into our summer home with his very pregnant girlfriend. He lies, and he was making every effort to get back into my bed so that the cash machine wouldn’t be turned off. What is it you two don’t get? I thought you both accepted this.”

  Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I don’t know why you have to be so emotional all the time, dear. It’s just that the two of you were together for so long.”

  Sophie turned to her father with venom in her eyes. She could feel their betrayal so potently that her hands began to shake from the toxicity. “Emotional?”

  “Sophie,” Jake’s voice rang in her ear.

  “Sweetheart, the only reason we came here was because we have tickets to the ballet next Saturday, and we wanted to know if you’d like to join us.”

  “And who will be my companion, Mother?”

  Her father cleared his throat again, and looked at his wife. “Dear, under the circumstances, I don’t think this is the right time.”

  “Yes, maybe you’re right. Sophie, we will talk about this tonight, over supper.”

  When Sophie scoffed at them she felt Jake rubbing his hand up a
nd down her arm. He began to do that more and more lately. Little touches, here and there, out in public where everyone could see. “I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Agnés. Sophie has the night shift tonight.”

  Nathanial gave Jake a sad father’s smile. “Surely you won’t mind if we take our daughter out? It’s been well over a month since her mother and I have seen her.”

  “I think I would mind. Two people trying to convince my lady she should go to a ballet with her ex-fiancé? Yeah, I think I do mind. I also think Sophie would, too. Right?”

  She was so proud of him. Jake saw through their ruse and still spoke with tact and respect. She really adored this man. Plus, he said she was his “lady.” The sound of it had her smiling up at him.

  “I’m sorry. We didn’t realize Sophie began a relationship so soon after the breakup.”

  “Six months, Mother. That’s not so soon. Why can’t you accept this?”

  “Well, I think we should be going. You can’t blame your parents for wanting the best for their daughter.”

  Sophie growled, “He’s not what’s best for me. I wish you’d both see that.”

  Antoinette rose from her stool and handed Nathanial her long fur coat. He helped her into it without comment. Sophie sighed. The man was trained and turned into a bore by her mother. She reflected on how Nathaniel always said little, unless her mother was absent.

  “We love you,” Nathanial told Sophie. He then leaned over the counter and hugged her, then whispered in her ear, “I’m glad you punched him.”

  “Nathanial, please, it’s not like we’re never going to see her again.” They walked out, but not before her father winked back at Sophie. He always was the one to save her, especially from her mother’s displeasure.

  “Wow.”

  She walked out from behind the bar and toward her office. “Ugh! They’re insufferable. I can’t believe they’d stoop so low!”

  Jake followed her into the office just as Sophie started throwing things. He ducked as the pencil holder whizzed past his head. “What the hell! I’m not the one to blame here.”

  She felt marginally better after hearing the crash. “I like to throw things, okay? If you’re in the way, then that’s your problem.” With that she threw a tissue box across the room.

  “Fine. Just don’t do it at my head. Remember? I’m the one who saved you out there.”

  “You did no such thing,” she seethed.

  “Really? I could call and let ’em know you really do have the night off.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” She poked him with a finger, hoping to drill a hole right to his heart, then maybe she would finally know how he felt about her. Thoughts of him weighed heavy, a crushing pain that eased only when he offered strength and empathy. She didn’t want to be the woman who needed reassurances of what a man felt for her. And yet, she found herself wanting that and so much more from Jake. Emotional assurances that her parents and Bruce never gave her: encouragement, affection, comfort in times of stress. Was that too much to ask? And did desiring these things make her pathetic and needy?

  “No, I wouldn’t,” he told her, while taking the offending hand. “It would hurt you, and I would never do that.” He kissed her palm, and Sophie softened at his touch, his show of tenderness.

  “I’m sorry. I can be very difficult at times.” She rolled up to the tips of her toes to give him a kiss, but Jake backed up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Last time we did that, we ended up on the couch.”

  “You could invite me over for dinner and we could be on your couch, for a change.” Sophie rubbed her body against his and smiled when he let out a long whistle.

  “God, you’re a siren.”

  “I wouldn’t want to deter you, but…” She kissed his neck and nipped at his earlobe. “I’m very much into bad movies and buttery popcorn, and I wouldn’t mind necking on the couch.”

  He snickered at the invitation. “I think I can accommodate you… as long as you promise not to throw anything else at me.”

  “I promise.”

  Jake cupped her face in his hands and gave her a kiss so deep she felt it inside her soul. “Wanna order grinders or pick something up on the way there?” he asked.

  “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  However Sophie couldn’t help wondering if she was talking about the food or her heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Jake awoke drenched in sweat. Every muscle and nerve beat with an intensity too painful to comprehend. He lifted a hand in front of his face, but his fractured mind couldn’t register the five-fingered appendage he saw. Confusion from a dizzying lack of understanding pulled him out of bed and into a fetal position on the floor. His grasp on reality slipped a little more as his body quaked. Jake felt the deep break in his psyche expand until the madness inside of it engorged the expanse of his mind. Crying out, he fought one last time for survival. Giving up was never an option. His duty was to always save lives and fight for the weak. But what if he’d become one of the defenseless?

  Flashes of faceless people with images of incomprehensible injuries pulled Jake deeper into his own anguish. He clawed his way out of the damp, hollowed hell, feeling much like the night he became nearly inoperative within that grenade crater. Glaring light from the window beside him helped the nightmare fade, but the ramifications had become clear. His body was pasty, cold, and shaking from his wet skin. As his stomach lunged with a dry heave, Jake ran to the bathroom.

  Disorientation muddled Jake’s mind, making it almost impossible for him to distinguish between reality and the tricks his subconscious was playing on him. His vision was blurry, and the walls seemed to be moving in a fluid motion. When he tried to stand, his legs gave out, leaving him with the one feeling he hated most… helplessness. Not just because of his present condition, but because he knew it would be at least two days before he felt like himself again.

  Slowly, Jake placed a hand on the bathroom sink and pulled himself up. In the mirror he saw a man in need. His eyes were swollen and his lip bled from biting it sometime during his nightmare. He avoided looking himself directly in the eye, for fear of what he might see, as he opened the cluttered medicine cabinet and took out some pills. He swore ripely when a few slipped down the sink drain because of his still-shaking hands.

  “Damn it.” Reluctantly he made eye contact with himself in the looking glass. “You need to get yourself together, buddy.”

  His mind and body exhausted from the war that raged inside his head, Jake dragged himself to the phone to call Dave.

  “I’m not going to make it in,” he told him.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. No. Haven’t decided yet.”

  Concern coated Dave’s voice, “Want me to send some food over?”

  The thought of eating left Jake’s stomach turning. “No, I have plenty here, thanks.”

  Jake hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. He knew Dave would worry but give him the space he needed.

  “And this is why you probably shouldn’t have a job,” he mumbled to himself while turning on the shower taps. “You’re certifiable.”

  The spray was a welcoming cleanse to the horrible night. As he leaned a hand on the shower wall to brace himself, Jake tried to remember aspects of the dream. Some were clear, others fuzzy. That was how they had been for the better part of two years. The therapist he had seen when he first got back from overseas said it was natural for the mind to block out what could be harmful to the conscious. Jake only wished he could remember everything so the dreams would stop. Or would they? The therapist also told him that wasn’t always the case, because the nightmares varied from person to person and the degree of trauma they suffered. And boy had Jake suffered.

  Jake went about his day uneasily. Shower, breakfast, two hundred pushups, talked to Dave when he called. Shower, lunch, run fifteen miles on the treadmill, talked to Dave because he called again. Shower, read, paced the floor for a few hours, then went outside and took a brisk walk. On
ly to come home to Dave calling, once more. Fed up, Jake demanded Dave to stop stalking him, because he was fine.

  As the light faded outside his kitchen windows, Jake realized, with sudden sorrow and a frantic, beating heart, that he’d managed to successfully ignore his bedroom all day. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he cursed the mayhem waiting for him and felt certain it could wait a little longer.

  The living room clock chimed, announcing the six o’clock hour. Chicken and salad tonight for dinner, he decided while opening his pantry. It looked barren, so he decided he’d go shopping tomorrow. With the music blaring, he prepared his meal until the soldier inside him suddenly kicked in.

  In half a heartbeat Jake pinned the intruder behind him on the floor with their hands behind their back and his knee pressed on the base of their neck. As his mind caught up to what he was doing, he saw a small-framed person lying underneath him. Jake began to panic. With slow and cautious movements he loosened his hold and removed his knee. A fist flew up and clocked him in the jaw. Then the feminine body sprang for the corner of the kitchen cabinets and huddled there.

  “Oh shit! I’m so sorry.” Jake moved toward Sophie, who tucked her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them.

  “What the hell, Jake!” she yelled. After careful analysis Jake realized that while her body might have shown a frightened woman, Sophie’s demeanor was as pissed as a caged wild cat. And just as dangerous, he thought while testing his jaw.

  He crawled to her on his hands and knees. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you behind me. It was a gut reaction.” Uncomfortable with the way she stared at him, Jake sat back on his haunches and brought his hands up to scrub his face. “There is no excuse. God, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Please let me look to see if I bruised you.”

  As he reached for her, Jake prepared himself for Sophie to shrink away. But she didn’t. Instead, she scooted forward and took him in her arms. That forgiving gesture nearly had him in tears.