Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys)

by Julianna Morris

  “Probably. But not huckleberry syrup.”

  “Too bad. They’d make a fortune.”

  They ordered a huge breakfast, along with a picnic lunch to take with them. He decided to keep their rooms for a return that night, though he suspected Hannah would keep the connecting doors firmly closed between them.

  It should have been reassuring that she didn’t expect more. Instead it was damned annoying.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BARBI DROVE OUT to Silver Cottage early Thursday evening for a tutoring session and saw Jake down by the lake, taking pictures across the cove. He was out there a bunch. She didn’t expect him to see her. He got weird when he had his camera, as if the rest of the world was invisible.

  She climbed the steps of the guesthouse and noticed Danny sitting on the lakeshore near Jake, intently watching the photographer.

  Hannah opened the door before Barbi could knock.

  “Hi. Since Jake is out by the lake, let’s work in the kitchen,” Hannah suggested.

  That suited Barbi. She hadn’t thought she minded people knowing she was studying for her GED, but it wasn’t true. Hannah was okay. She understood about Vic, even if she didn’t know everything. And Luigi had been pushing her to do it practically from the first day she started working for him. But she didn’t want anyone else to know, especially Brendan, though her reasons had changed.

  “Do you want coffee?” Hannah asked. “Or something to eat? I’ve got Chinese-chicken salad leftover from dinner, and Danny will just take it to Jake in the morning if you don’t have some.”

  “Naw, I’m fine. I saw Danny outside. Doesn’t he get bored watching Jake take pictures?”

  “He wants to go on some of the photography trips with Jake, so he’s trying to prove he can be quiet and not be restless.”

  “Think it’s gonna work?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Barbi fidgeted with her books, then glanced at her friend. “So how’s it going with Brendan?” she asked casually.

  Hannah’s face went blank as she sat down. “Actually, we broke up. And to be honest, I haven’t missed him. I know that sounds terrible, but I think we just thought we should be a good couple. It isn’t that we were bad together—we just weren’t anything.”

  Relief flooded Barbi. “Then, um, would you mind if I...uh...asked him out?”

  “Be my guest. But I have to say I’m a little surprised. You fight all the time. Well, except at the pancake supper—it was nice that you ate with him.”

  “We fight, but I sorta like him under all that stuffiness. Only I’d never, ever do something if you weren’t okay with it.”

  “Heavens, I know that,” Hannah assured her. “Don’t worry, I’m not the least bit interested in Brendan, except as a friend. Now, let’s talk about what you worked on while I was gone.”

  Barbi took out the sheet of equations and wrinkled her nose. “I hate this stuff.”

  “I’m not crazy about math, either, but it’s part of the test, and you’re very good at it.”

  The praise was encouraging and Barbi watched as Hannah went over the papers, checking her work.

  It was a relief to know Brendan was available. Eating pizza in the park hadn’t been a date, any more than having pancakes together, but she’d felt funny about it. Hannah was her friend, and between her different jobs and the problems with her father, Barbi didn’t have that many friends.

  The question was how to make her move. She’d only had a few regular boyfriends—guys usually did a fast retreat when they eventually bumped into Vic, not wanting the hassle of dating someone with a dad like that. Who could blame ’em? Hell, she was leaving Mahalaton Lake to get away from Vic. It would take a while since she still needed her GED and to get a job that showed she had marketable skills, but she was going.

  So why not have some fun with Brendan in the meantime?

  It wasn’t as if she expected it to last. He was a freaking lawyer and she hadn’t even finished high school. And he had a rich, snobby family back in Boston who’d never approve of her. His ancestors would probably jump out of their graves if she showed her face east of the Mississippi, especially the ones who’d rubbed elbows with John Adams before he became president of the United States.

  After an hour with Hannah, Barbi left with a new set of math problems to work out. She debated for a little while, then drove toward Brendan’s condo, deciding there was no point in being subtle. She might as well give it a shot and see what happened.

  * * *

  BRENDAN FLIPPED THROUGH the hundreds of on-demand offerings from the television cable company, unable to find a single thing that appealed to him. There wasn’t much else to do, either. Mahalaton Lake was devoid of nightlife except on weekends when there was a community event, but normally that didn’t bother him much.

  Tonight he was just bored and restless for some reason.

  There were restaurants, of course, and a bar just outside town. But a roadside bar didn’t hold any appeal—he had an uncle with a drinking problem and had always been cautious of alcohol because of it.

  The internet was no more tempting. There’d been another email from his father giving the schedule of Massachusetts’s bar exams. Probably what made his father so successful was that he didn’t accept answers he didn’t like. He pushed and pushed, and as a result was one of the most sought-after litigators in the state. As for Brendan’s mother, she’d written that the two youngest Chester sisters were still single. Hint, hint. The Chester girls were interchangeable to Brendan, but his mother liked their social desirability.

  Tossing the remote control to one side, Brendan glanced around the living room. Kind of empty and dull. Even when he’d been sick, he’d noticed how Barbi had brightened the place up with her blond hair and impudent smile. What an idiot he’d been not to see beyond the clothes and in-your-face attitude earlier. He’d met her months before meeting Hannah.

  The bell rang and he considered not answering, but finally got up and opened the door.

  “Barbi,” he said in shock.

  “Hey, Brendan.” She smiled sassily. “I understand you and Hannah aren’t an item any longer.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Good. Because I’m coming in.”

  Confused, he stepped back while she marched through the door, kicking it shut behind her.

  “Would you, uh, like a glass of juice or cola?” he managed to ask. “I don’t have any wine or beer.”

  “I don’t drink...and I’d much rather have a glass of you.” She tugged her tight tank top over her head and threw it across the room.

  The sight sucked the air out of his lungs. He’d thought her tight clothing left few unanswered questions about her figure, and he was partly right...and partly wrong. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her breasts rose high and full above her slim waist, just waiting to be touched.

  “Aren’t you going to take your turn?” she demanded before he could react.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is like tennis. I take off a piece, then you do. Then I do. Then you do. Whoever runs out of something to take off last gets to be on top.”

  Now there was a game he liked...and wanted to lose.

  He loosened his tie and threw it behind him. Barbi tugged at the waistband on her jeans, then stopped and grinned. She unfastened her beaded necklace instead and dropped it on the coffee table.

  Brendan quickly evaluated how much he was wearing...and how much Barbi had left, and knew he’d finish last unless he got creative. But at least he wasn’t still wearing his suit jacket and vest. He shrugged out of his shirt, somehow getting his hands free of the cuffs without removing his cufflinks. A faint ripping sound accompanied the effort and the links went flying, but he didn’t care...as long as Barbi ended up on top.

  One of her
bangles landed on the table next.

  Good, she had at least three more on her wrist. That would help. Brendan unfastened his pants and let them fall, managing to get both his shoes off at the same time he kicked free of the pants. His socks didn’t cooperate—they remained on his feet.

  She grinned.

  “Mmm,” she murmured, looking at the tight fabric of his underwear with approval. “From what I can see, that’s some impressive equipment.”

  “Yours is better,” he said, unable to keep his gaze from her perfect breasts.

  Her ankle bracelet followed, then his right sock, her left sandal and his left sock.

  “We’re tied,” he announced, glancing at the wisp of lingerie around her hips. His own briefs felt so tight he wanted to howl.

  “Nope,” she said with a speculative examination of his lower body. “I’ve still got three bangles.” She dropped a second bangle on the table.

  “Yeah, I have the damnedest luck,” he observed, his heart pounding with anticipation.

  “You’re next.” She inspected him boldly.

  His briefs dropped to the floor a moment later, and he closed the gap between them. “You win, but that means I get to help take off everything you have left.”

  “I like good losers,” she whispered, tracing her tongue down the side of his neck and shimmying a little against him.

  The movement nearly brought him to his knees.

  Hooking his thumbs through the narrow fabric on her hips, Brendan dragged it down, kissing her neck, between her breasts...and the smooth, taut skin of her belly. He eased the underwear farther down, taking his time, until it lay on the floor.

  “Okay. Into the bedroom, pal,” she ordered. “You’re gonna want something soft beneath your butt.”

  He grinned and grabbed her hand.

  * * *

  JUST AFTER DAWN Brendan woke and looked at Barbi lying asleep in the bed next to him. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he’d be with her, particularly after the way they’d argued over the past fourteen months.

  Foreplay.

  He’d never been with anyone like her. She awakened things he’d never experienced—adventurous, gut-level responses that made him feel fully alive for the first time. It wasn’t just the sex—it was the way she attacked life, with no holds barred.

  Of course, the sex was spectacular, and Brendan’s grin grew as he remembered making love in the kitchen, the shower...even the closet where they’d landed accidentally, not realizing the door was open. Around midnight they’d gone searching for a fresh supply of protection and had risked getting arrested when they stopped to use some of it at a pullout on the highway coming back from Lower Mahalaton.

  “What are you grinning at?” Barbi asked sleepily.

  She was curled on her side and he smiled. “I was just thinking my car had to be better than your small Chevy for making out. ’Fess up—you’re glad we took the Lexus.”

  “It wasn’t bad.”

  “Not bad, she says. I would have broken my back in your little car.” Barbi lightly dragged her fingernails up his thigh, sending instant heat to his groin. “Not that I would have minded,” he said hoarsely.

  “That’s better.”

  Brendan frowned at a set of faded bruises on the inside of Barbi’s wrist where she always wore her bangles. He lifted her hand and lightly brushed the yellowing marks. The way the bruises were aligned looked suspiciously like someone had grabbed her, digging in hard with their fingers.

  “What are these from?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She shrugged.

  “They don’t look like nothing. Did one of your pizza-delivery customers do that?” he demanded. “You don’t have to put up with stuff like this, Barbi. Call the police and get them arrested for assault.”

  “It wasn’t a customer. I just banged something. I do it all the time.”

  “Barbi—”

  “Brendan.” She mimicked his tone. “It’s fine. I clean offices and work in the bakery and stuff, so I always have bruises. Right now I’d rather take another shower than discuss something this tedious.”

  Brendan’s body instantly went on alert. He’d chosen his condo because it had a huge walk-in shower with jets on two sides and a glass firebrick wall that let in natural light at the end. The sun was coming up, and Barbi would look great in the morning glow. Of course, she looked great anywhere.

  She bounced out of the bed, vibrant and flushed with desire, her silky blond hair tumbling over her breasts making her look like an impudent mermaid.

  “Slowpoke,” she said, stretching slowly to great effect.

  * * *

  BARBI LICKED HER lips, deliberately catlike, and disappeared into the bathroom.

  She’d hated fudging the truth about the bruises, but Brendan didn’t need to know about her father. Not yet. Besides, a long, hot shower did sound nice; her muscles were deliciously tired from the workout she’d given them. It turned out that missionary position wasn’t the only way Brendan liked sex. As a matter of fact, he liked it just about any way. And he was awfully good at it, too.

  She grinned as she heard footsteps behind her. Flipping on the water, she turned to look at Brendan.

  He stepped forward, his arousal already protected by a latex sheath. He soaped his hands, exploring and teasing her breasts, tugging her nipples and whispering sexy suggestions that didn’t sound the least like a staid barrister from Boston.

  She was startled when he lifted her abruptly and thrust fiercely into her, muttering, urging, demanding, until the world became focused entirely on the juncture of their bodies, whirling faster and faster until she shattered.

  Much later she lay draped across Brendan’s chest on the bed, sated and lethargic before she glanced at his clock.

  She bolted upright. “Ohmigod, is that the time?”

  Brendan glanced at the bedside clock. “Yeah. I may call in and tell my secretary to cancel my appointments. All two of them. Friday is usually a slow day, thank God.”

  “I have to go to work.”

  “But Luigi’s doesn’t start delivering until four this afternoon. Aren’t women supposed to like afterglow? Where’s my afterglow?”

  “Sorry, but I clean at Memorial Hall on Thursdays and Fridays.” She scrambled away, hunting for her clothes. However much she’d love to spend the day in bed with Brendan, she couldn’t blow off her jobs. He wasn’t permanent, and it wouldn’t be right to leave her various employers in the lurch.

  “See ya,” she said, giving him a kiss with plenty of tongue action.

  “Tonight,” he replied firmly. “Meet me here after you’re done at work. I’ll get a can of whipped cream.”

  “Whipped cream?”

  “Yeah. I can’t wait to taste it on you. Better than any ice cream sundae.”

  To Barbi’s astonishment, her face actually heated. Hell, she wasn’t a virgin to be embarrassed by something like that, though maybe it was because Brendan had said it. She wouldn’t have expected a guy with his background to have such sexy fantasies. Still, it was nice that he’d gotten rid of all that morning-after awkwardness with an assumption they’d be together again that night. It made things much easier.

  “Uh, okay,” she said, and his delighted laughter followed her out the door.

  * * *

  HANNAH MET WITH the rescue squad fund-raising committee on Friday morning and showed them the two photographs Jake was donating to their Christmas in August raffle. He’d emailed the digital files to a processing company he’d worked with before, asking for a rush job on the printing and framing. One of the photos had been taken in early-morning light, the other at sunset. And while they were from virtually identical locations, the lighting made each unique.

  “They’re beautiful,” Gwen exclaimed. “And the custo
m framing...it must have cost a fortune.”

  Hannah shook her head. “According to Jake, the company donated their time and supplies when they learned it was for a fund-raiser.”

  “Excellent, and I see they’re signed,” said Vince Gilson.

  “The framer fixed it so Jake could sign and date the outside mattes, then fasten everything down tight. Jake has also provided a certificate of authenticity stating these are limited first-edition prints.” Hannah turned one of the photos around so everyone could see the envelope affixed to the back.

  Gwen rubbed her hands together. “This is great. We’ve been selling the raffle tickets locally, but it’ll really pick up now that people can see the photos. I also emailed the information to a number of businesses in Seattle and Portland. When I checked our PayPal account this morning, over a thousand tickets had been sold.”

  Everybody looked suitably impressed.

  “To be honest, I was worried Mr. Hollister would change his mind about donating the prints and we’d have to refund the money,” Gwen confided. “Now I can relax.”

  “Jake believes in supporting rescue workers,” Hannah said. She didn’t add what he’d told her about the Inupiat villagers saving his life. It wasn’t a secret—articles about the plane crash had spoken of the Inupiat rescue efforts—but he didn’t like talking about what had happened in Alaska. And if she said anything to the committee, somebody might mention it to him.

  Ironically, in their phone conversation before Jake arrived, Andy had mentioned his client was determined to return and finish the photographic study of polar animals as soon as he was fit enough.

  Hannah’s breath caught at the prospect, yet she didn’t have any right to complain or ask him to stop recklessly risking his life. It’s just because he reminds you of Collin, she tried to tell herself. She’d never forgotten her first love, and losing him in such a terrible way had always stayed with her. It was just her bad luck to get involved with another adrenaline junkie.

  Except Jake wasn’t an adrenaline junkie, and that argument was no longer believable.