He took the food off the barbecue, tossed foil over the platter and crossed the grass to Mia’s. He knocked on her door, and when she opened it to him, wearing a white T-backed tank top and snug low-slung black yoga pants, her hair falling free and wild about her shoulders, he actually lost his train of thought.
“Jake?”
“Hungry?” he asked.
She cocked her head, appearing to be trying to figure out if he had some deep, hidden reason for standing on her doorstep. Like maybe collecting the favor she owed him. “No repaying of any favors tonight,” he told her. “Just food. And a game if you want. We never did crack open your new movie edition of Trivial Pursuit.”
She bit her lip in indecision, and if he hadn’t wanted to bite that lip himself so very badly, he might have smiled in sympathy. She probably didn’t think that spending time near him was a good idea, not with the heat they’d been generating lately.
Smart woman.
But though he was incredibly interested in stoking that heat, turning it into fire, he had a plan and it didn’t involve rushing her. “Just food and a game, some talk, whatever.”
“Like old times.”
“Like old times,” he promised, and gently nudged past her, leading her into her kitchen.
She went to the refrigerator. “Beer?” she asked, searching. “Or…questionable milk?”
“Beer.”
Crouching down to the bottom shelf, she gave him an enticing view, a smooth stretch of tight, sleek back muscles where her tank rose up and her yoga pants slid down, and a flash of something silky and deep purple, making him nearly groan out loud.
A thong.
She grabbed two bottles and rose, then caught the pained look on his face. “What’s the matter?”
You’re hotter than the mercury in the thermostat outside. “Absolutely nothing.”
She came close and handed him his beer, and he made sure that their fingers entangled. At the contact, she stared down at their hands but didn’t mention the palpable electricity between them.
He decided not to push his luck by mentioning it, either. Hell, it was enough that finally he wasn’t the only one feeling it.
They sat side by side at her kitchen table and ate, with Mia moaning in pleasure over the food. They talked easily as they always did—about his weekly basketball game, her new tires, his brother, who’d just gotten back from a tour in Iraq. And then their neighbor, who’d just gotten engaged.
“Along that same vein,” she said, and apparently finally having satisfied her belly, set down her fork. “It’s the strangest thing really, but both my partners have recently fallen in love.”
“You think that’s strange?” Leaning in, he stabbed the last bite of steak off her plate. “People falling in love?”
“I think love’s harder to find than everyone thinks it is.” Fair being fair, she took his last sip of beer.
He watched her swallow, then lick her bottom lip. “Maybe it’s just harder for you to believe in it than most people.”
She played with the label on the bottle. “The other night, when you asked me what I was afraid of, you wondered if I was afraid of you falling for me.”
He studied her bent head and knew she was thinking, wondering, how could anyone really fall for her, and he wanted to hurt her mother for raising her with that doubt. “Yeah, well, you’re not so hard to fall for, Mia.”
She lifted her gaze and leveled him with her wide, dark eyes. “And by falling,” she whispered. “You mean…”
“Caring deeply, for starters.”
“We’ve never even dated.”
“Mia, I’ve ‘dated’ a lot of women. I’ve been in plenty of relationships, in which I’ve spent less time than I have with you. I know what’s out there and I know what’s not out there.” He ran a finger over hers. “And I know what I want.”
Who I want.
“Me?” she asked shakily.
“Is that so out of the realm of believability?”
“I grew up with a woman who fell in and out of love with the same ease as she washed her hair. I don’t have a lot of faith in what you’re talking about.”
“You’re not your mother. You don’t bring men into your life on a nightly basis just for the company. It means something to you. Don’t let what she did taint it for you.”
“I don’t. I’m not a man hater just because the men she brought home nightly were jerks. I’m not disillusioned. A little cynical maybe, but I know what’s out there, and that sometimes it can be good.”
“No, it can be great,” he said very quietly, and stroked his thumb over her palm. “You just have to believe.”
She went still, her dark, penetrating eyes searching his for a long moment before she pulled free. “I’m not saying I don’t believe in love. I’m just saying it can be easily mistaken for something else. Like lust.”
“Nothing wrong with a little lust.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Oh, Jake. What are we doing? What have we been doing all week?”
“Maybe some of that lusting,” he admitted, and smiled when she laughed again, as he’d intended. “Do you like it?”
“That’s not the point.” She squirmed. “I think you should stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Making me lust.”
“Making you?” He laughed, then pulled her close. “Let’s see about that,” he murmured, and kissed her. She kissed him back for a heart-stopping beat but then shoved free with a rough growl and stood up, pointing at him.
“There,” was all she said.
He lifted his hands. “I did not just make you stick your tongue down my throat.”
She stared at him, then turned away. “Damn it, I hate it when you’re right.” She whipped back to face him, pointing at him again, stabbing him in the chest with her finger. “Seriously. This has to stop.”
He grabbed her finger. “Be specific.”
“Specific? You want specific? Okay, stop leaving me notes that make me want to see you. Stop smiling at me with all that heat in your eyes. See? That smile right there! Stop that!”
He tried to wipe it off his face. “Okay, no smiles.”
“And definitely stop smelling so damn good.”
“I smell good?”
“Oh my God, yes.” She shook it off. “Don’t distract me. And the kissing—” She glared at him. “That you must stop.”
“What about the food?”
She glanced at the table, and her empty plate, and he knew he had her. “The food can keep coming,” she said, and ignored his soft laugh.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE NEXT DAY at lunch break, Jake sat on the stage of the theater, legs swinging as he idly pulled splinters from his palm. His men had all gone to a local café, needing to get out of the sun. Jake had passed, wanting to get some paperwork done. As he picked out his last splinter, he heard the click-click-clicking of a set of heels alerting him to Mia’s presence.
Actually, he didn’t need the heels, he’d sensed her coming. Hell, he could almost smell her, like a mate. Lifting his head, he watched her come down the center aisle toward him, eyes flashing, mouth grim, looking quite hot and pissed off by it.
Oh, yeah, he thought with equal grimness. Maybe this had started out about getting her into bed, but now… You are it for me.
“You left me another note,” she said when she got close enough, and in case he didn’t remember what he’d written, she waved the paper.
He just smiled. “Yep.”
“I thought we decided you wouldn’t do that anymore.”
“No, you decided.”
“Damn it.” She lifted her hands to her hair, plunging her fingers into the loose mess, turning in a slow, frustrated circle. Then she faced him again. “I know I said I owe you.”
He just arched a brow.
“And it’s killing me, okay? Call in your damn favor, already! Do it!”
She was like an M-80 with a lit fuse, ready to blow. With a smile
, he jumped down the catwalk and straightened, right in front of her now. “I’m not calling in the favor right now.”
“Jake—”
He put his hand to her mouth. “I needed to see you, so I left a note. I wanted to ask about the Greek statues that were delivered today for the show. You’re going to need some sort of lift to move them around. Are you going to rent one?”
She blew out a breath. “Oh. Yeah.”
He grinned. “But if you’d really rather I call in the favor right now—”
“No!”
“Darn.” He took her hand. “Come on, I’ll show you the statues. They’re going to be great.”
The statues were backstage, out of their packaging, waiting to be placed. Four of them. All men, all life-size, all nude.
The first stood like a warrior, legs spread, hands on his hips, chest chiseled, shoulders broad, every other part of his anatomy just as impressive.
Mia stared at it. “Oh my,” she whispered.
He pointed to the others. The second and third statues stood rock solid, too, hands folded behind their backs, faces impassive, as if guarding something, their muscles and chiseled features somehow scary and yet haunting.
The fourth statue had one hand out as if reaching for someone, a slight knowing smile on his face. A man about to get lucky, Jake thought. “Someone said the models are going to—”
“Brush by them. Interact, maybe flirt.” Mia dropped her gaze from the fourth statue’s chest to his penis. “Oh, boy. I don’t think—”
“Show me.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Show you?”
“Pretend you’re one of the models.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t…” But she walked up to the fourth statue. “Hmm. I guess…” She laid her hands on the statue’s chest, then leaned in with a mock sultry expression as if she was going to kiss it. Then suddenly she dropped her head to its chest, letting out a snort which sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “It’s a good thing I’m so short and rounded, I could never be a model and pull off that ‘don’t mess with me’ catwalk look as they strut their stuff.”
She wore another sleeveless silky tank today, the color of the azure sky, and a white linen skirt that ended well above the knees. She turned around, leaning back against the statue, a grin splitting her face. Her hair was loose, her cheeks flushed as she smiled at him without self-conscious thought or reason, just because she was feeling silly.
He felt the pull of her deep in his belly. And lower. He shifted closer, and her grin faltered. Closer still, and she straightened, reaching out a hand to hold him off. “Wait a minute. I know that look.”
Another step, and their toes touched. “Do you?”
“It’s your ‘you’re going to kiss me’ look.”
“Ding, ding, we have a winner.” Jake set his hands on either side of her face, right against the statue’s chest, and leaned in and did just that.
At the contact, she moaned deep in her throat. Her hands came up between them.
Half-braced for her to shove at him, he nearly melted when instead she wound her arms around his neck and held on. The scent of her surrounded him, incited, and he sank his fingers into her hair, clamping her head between his hands as he deepened the kiss. When her tongue slid to his first, it ripped a groan from his chest. Raising his head he stared down at her, at her heavy-lidded eyes, her wet mouth, at the pulse tattooing an erratic beat at the base of her throat. “God, Mia.”
“I know.” They went at each other again. Jake slid his hands down her body and then back up, splaying them wide over her ribs, his fingers just brushing the undersides of her breasts. “You have such a beautiful body, Mia. Let me touch.”
She just directed his mouth back to hers and kept kissing him.
“Can I?” he asked against her mouth.
She pulled back, breathing unsteadily. “You’re asking?”
“I’m asking.”
“Can’t you just…do it?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
She chewed on her lower lip. Leaning in he sucked it into his mouth himself, then kissed her again, long and deep, his hands itching to palm her breasts. “Mia?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I want you to touch!”
He was smiling as he filled his hands with her breasts over the silk. “Okay?”
She tightened her grip on his neck. “Are you going to talk all the way through this?”
“Maybe.” He pushed up her tank. Her bra was glossy white and thin, easily tugged aside, and then finally he was touching bare, warm, damp flesh that made him groan. He rasped his thumbs over her nipples, then gently tugged on the hardened peaks.
She nearly strangled him with her hold around his neck, letting out low, desperate mewling noises as he leaned in and kissed her again, sliding his hands down her body until his fingers played at the hem of her skirt brushing her thighs.
She shivered.
“More?” he asked softly, curling his fingers around the fabric, lifting her skirt as he lowered his head and licked at a nipple.
“Um…”
“Tell me,” he murmured against her breast, watching the nipple pucker even harder.
“You are. You are going to keep talking.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut when he merely chuckled low in her ear. “Fine. More, damn it.”
He tugged the linen up her hips, exposing pale peach satin panties that made him groan, then slid his fingers down the backs of her thighs, lifting her so suddenly that she squeaked in surprise. “Wrap your legs around me— Yeah, like that.” Now she was sandwiched between the statue and himself and Jake gritted his teeth at the feel of her warm, damp sex cradling his. He rocked against her, each thrust of his hips building on the unrelenting heat, threatening to burn them both alive. He had both hands in her panties, cupping a bare cheek in each palm, his erection nestled tight between her legs as their hips moved. Dark, needy sounds ripped from Mia’s throat, driving him right to the edge. He hovered there, so close to coming his vision began to blur.
Not here.
That was his only rational thought, but as he blinked and dragged air into his taxed lungs, as he looked down into her dazed, flushed face and felt the tenderness overwhelm him, he knew.
He’d taken this as far as he had to make her want him as badly as he wanted her, and he had done that. No doubt, he had done that. He had only to look into her slumberous eyes, down at her beautiful bared breasts, at the rapid, shallow way her belly rose and fell. And the way she gripped him tight, cradling him with her thighs… Yeah, he’d proven that she wanted him. She’d ache all night.
Only somewhere along the way it had become more. Deeper. Somewhere along the way he’d really fallen for her, harder and faster than he’d ever fallen before.
In fact, he could hear bells ringing in his head. Bells? It took him a moment to realize it was her cell phone, and he let out a low laugh. “That’s you.”
Brought out of the spell, she blinked and stared at him as he slowly let her legs slide down his body. When her toes touched the ground, she shoved her skirt down and reached for her purse, which had fallen at her feet. As she wrapped her fingers around the cell, her pager started to go off, as well, and then the alarm on her Palm Pilot.
“Don’t look now but your life is vibrating.”
She let out a helpless laugh as she crouched at his feet, pressing her forehead to her phone. “I set my Palm Pilot to go off to remind myself to download some stuff at home, and anyway, it’s not just my hardware that’s vibrating.” She looked up at him. “You’ve got my entire body doing the same.”
“Want to be president of the club?”
“Look, I don’t like this, okay?” She shut her eyes.” I really don’t.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“A moment of insanity,” she insisted, and rose to her feet. “We’re friends,” she said with a tinge of desperation. “Right? Just friends. God
, Jake, that’s important. Really, really important.”
She was utterly serious. She had it in her head somehow that they couldn’t be both friends and lovers. “And you’re important to me, Mia.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then looked away. “I need a minute.”
He needed more than that, but he nodded. “Take as long as you need. I’ll be working.”
And as he walked away he felt her watching him, probably still wearing that I’ve-just-been-hit-by-a-Mack-truck expression, the one that made him want to tumble her down and start all over again with the kisses, the touches.
But damned if that game hadn’t just become something else entirely.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MIA SPENT THE AFTERNOON on the stage with Jane, Samantha, Jamie and a handful of others from the VLL offices, going through all their props and set decorations. The area was still under construction, and they were working around Jake and his crew.
Not exactly a hardship.
When she’d first begun, Jake had been high on a ladder doing something with the ancient-wonder archway frame. He’d been thoroughly engrossed in his work and yet suddenly he’d gone still and lifted his head. Even with his gaze covered in mirrored sunglasses, she’d known he’d found her in one glance because her nipples went hard.
He pulled his sunglasses from his eyes and let them hang from their Croakies around his neck, and just looked at her.
At Mia’s side, the ever unshakable, unflappable Jane blinked. “Wow.”
Yeah. Wow. Electricity seemed to zing from Jake’s eyes to Mia’s body, zapping her with a strong awareness that made her skin itchy and her stomach quiver.
Damn it. Damn him. She’d never before felt electrocuted every time she so much as looked at him. This was new, very new. Squirming in her sandals, she tossed him a little wave that hopefully said “see how unaffected I am,” and set out to promptly forget him as she went about her work. She’d ordered miles of midnight velvet that they’d drape around and behind the Greek statues to make them stand out and to give a beautiful backdrop for the models and what they’d be wearing. Sitting in one corner of the stage, she began opening boxes of the material, checking the invoices to her materials list.
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