by Misty Evans
Establish the distance. Reclaim the perimeter.
He swallowed hard and tried to force some blood to his brain. He managed to get his composure enough to speak. “I’m not gay, Jenna. You’d do well to remember that.”
7
Friday morning Jenna was at work on time and feeling great after one of Jacob’s breakfasts-in-a-box. He’d ordered them for her through some food-direct place and every morning she had fiber, protein, and a little something for her sweet tooth.
My sweet tooth could use more of Jacob’s lips. She giggled and push that stupid thought away. He’d been proving a point and it made her both irritated and frustrated that she’d actually enjoyed it.
But baby, that man knew his way around a woman’s mouth, as well as her closet. She hadn’t been kissed like that in…
She had to think.
Never. She’d never been kissed like that. The memory alone made her tingle from her lips to her girl parts, and boy, oh boy, were her girl parts interested in where else Jacob could use those lips.
She wore slacks and a pretty coral blouse, the diamond pendant dangling between her breasts, as well as a set of gold bangles clinking lightly around her wrist. Peep toe shoes had become her new favorite since Jacob had insisted she had pretty, delicate feet and should show them off.
Damn him. He was right about everything!
She’d resisted the shoes at first. Never had she wanted to bring attention to her feet and legs. Now, the polish on her toenails matched her blouse. Jacob had given her a few lessons on straightening her posture and her limp was almost nonexistent.
She was eating better, dressing better, and sleeping better. The piles on her desk had been reduced to three. Inbox, outbox, deal-with-it-today box. Wanda loved the efficiency, and so did everyone else.
“You’d be proud,” Jenna told Van over the phone as she rocked in her office chair. “I’m like a mini-you. Well, a mini, freckled, redheaded you. Kicking ass and taking names.”
“I knew you could do it,” Van replied. “Now say it.”
Jenna had handled three interviews that week and had done a series of short videos for the 3 Wishes YouTube channel. Donations had exploded. A pair of film actresses had agreed to do PSAs for the foundation after the new PR firm Van had found approached them. The volunteer director had stopped by to thank Jenna for the sudden boom in new helpers.
Jenna sipped a fruit smoothie. No more diet Coke for her. “I hate to admit it, but you were right. Jacob knows his stuff, and the PR firm you hired is full of fresh ideas. Did you see my videos? The kids and I had a ball making them.”
“I’m always right, and yes, those videos rock. It’s good for you and for the kids you’re spotlighting. They get a few minutes of fame and it makes them real to the world. Now, stop stalling and tell me what’s going on with Hawke.”
They’d been texting back and forth about the pop star and his odd way of reaching out to Jenna. Odd but endearing, Jenna had texted to Van. Odd but freaky, Van had texted back.
Well, maybe sending nude selfies with no actual words attached to them was the new speed dating. How would she know? It wasn’t like she’d been out in the dating world much. He’d said he was into body art as a form of expressing himself. She could appreciate that.
“After our roller coaster ride the other night he sent me a text I do understand.” Jenna couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “He’s coming into town this evening and asked me to go to Broken Bacon for dinner. We’re having an official date!”
The heavy pause that followed lasted long enough that Jenna was afraid they’d been disconnected. “Van? Are you there?”
“The Broken Bacon doesn’t serve vegetarian, Jenna. It’s all meat and lots of it. Primarily bacon.”
“I know, silly. It’s okay. He doesn’t know I’m vegetarian. I’ll just have something to drink. Maybe an appetizer.”
Another pause. “Even their appetizers have meat. Why don’t you tell him you’re a vegetarian and suggest a place like Lotsa Veggie? They have that blackened tempeh burger you like with the mango salsa. He might like it too.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’m just… Oh, Van. I’m freaking out. I can’t believe this is happening, you know? Me dating Hawke Thorn! He was so sweet the other night. So good to the kids.”
“Why can’t you believe he likes you? You’re an up-and-coming businesswoman with the brains and the looks to get anyone you want.”
Van was kind and sweet, and even though Jenna considered herself a new woman, she knew she wasn’t on par with the rich and famous women Hawke had dated before. Models, actresses, heiresses. The last gal—what was her name? Carlita?—she was the daughter of a Greek tycoon and a Spanish princess. “Not a star like Hawke. He’s way out of my league.”
“Oh, please. No one is out of your league.”
Now she was lying. “I appreciate you trying to make me feel good, but you don’t have to. I know this thing with Hawke is a fantasy and I’m going to wake up tomorrow and it will all be over. But tonight, I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”
Van let go of a tight sigh. “I’m glad you’re happy, just don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“Jenna, you’re a grown woman, and I hate myself for sounding like your mother, but please don’t sleep with him on the first date.”
“Sleep with him?” Nervous laughter spilled from her mouth. She hadn’t had sex in so long; she wasn’t sure she knew how. Maybe Jacob will give you a lesson. She’d been having sex dreams all week featuring him. Blech.
But in reality, not blech-y at all. They were hot and erotic and…
Not like she wanted it to happen, but she’d close her eyes and he’d be there, kissing her. Well, it was no wonder she felt so energized every morning.
She’d never dated enough to have a type, but she knew without a doubt Jacob wasn’t it, even though her toes were trying to curl inside her peep toes at the memory of that damn kiss and her nightly imaginary sex lesson with him. “I should be so lucky. If Hawke Thorn so much as touches me again, I’ll die a happy woman.”
“Hmm. Okay. Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You actually think he wants to sleep with me?” The thought should have made Jenna’s toes curl, but no, not like they did when she remembered Jacob’s lips on hers.
Dammit. She had to quit thinking about him. She wanted Hawke to kiss her. She wanted to have dreams about Hawke.
“He sleeps with everyone,” Van was saying. “You know that.”
Jenna cleared her throat, shoving the memory of Jacob into a deep hole. “That tabloid gossip is totally fabricated. All he did was blow a kiss to the wind that first day he was here and suddenly the press had us together in the conference room having sex. It’s not real, Van.”
“I think some of it is.” Jenna heard Alex’s voice in the background. “Alex says to tell you if Hawke lays one finger on you, he’s going to kill the bastard. His words, not mine. And don’t forget I’m deadlier than your brother.”
“That’s sweet.” Good thing the two of them were all those miles away. The last thing she needed was her well-meaning brother and future sister-in-law to screw up her one chance with a superstar. “I’ve got to go. Wish Alex luck on his next race for me.”
“I will. Call me tomorrow and let me know how things go.”
They disconnected and Jenna let herself daydream for a few minutes.
Sex with Hawke Thorn. Yep, she had plenty of fantasies about that. If only he would appear in her dreams instead of Jacob.
Eight hours later, Jenna waited patiently in the 3 Wishes lobby for her fantasy man. Everyone was gone.
Hawke didn’t show.
An hour later she texted him.
No reply.
A hollow feeling filled her stomach and inched its way up to her heart. She tried calling his publicist. No answer.
She hung out until midnight, then laughed at her pitiful self.
I
was right. A fantasy. That’s all it was.
She almost texted Jacob but stopped herself. The last thing she needed was to let him know that, even with all his improvements, she’d still failed. She was ordinary, plain, and no amount of new clothes or attitude would change the woman she was underneath.
Refusing to cry, she kicked off her shoes, slipped out the back door of 3 Wishes, and went home, ejecting her Triple Threat CD and tossing it out the window.
In the privacy of her bedroom she pulled her keepsake box from under the bed. Inside sat the letter she’d once received from Hawke. Her fourteen-year-old self had written to him, telling him of her undying love for him and how his music kept her going day after horrible day. He’d written back with a short, but poignant, note about never giving up.
She hugged the letter, worn at the creases, to her chest. She wanted to believe he was still that person—the one who would write a handwritten note to a lonely, depressed girl—but she was having serious doubts. Fame had done a number on him.
She felt sorry for him and mad at herself all at the same time.
8
“It's nice to hear your voice big brother. I was starting to wonder if your mother was working you too hard at the endowment.”
Jacob smiled as he cradled his desk phone on his shoulder while finishing up his report. “Now, now, Abigail. You know I love to work.”
His sister groaned. “But all work and no play makes Jacob a very dull boy. Besides, I want a sister-in-law and some rug rat nephews and nieces to spoil. You know full well I live vicariously through you, so give me something to work with besides work, work, work.”
Jacob winced and his heart pinched. He hated the fact that he barely saw her. Like most kids who learned about an illegitimate brother or sister somewhere, he had wanted nothing to do with Abigail in the beginning. But then his father had dragged him off for a summer together and he met the sister that had caused a rift between his family.
She'd been just a baby. Clearly it wasn't her fault that she’d been born. The blame for those decisions belonged to her parents. In particular, their father.
Despite Abigail being blameless for the whole situation, his mother had never warmed to her. Not that he expected her to, as she had never really warmed to him. But she still treated Abigail like a pariah, and Jacob had long since learned that it was better to keep them separate, even if he wanted to see his sister more.
“I'm sorry to disappoint, but that's the way it goes. You can stop hoping for a sister-in-law. I don't think that's ever going to happen.”
Abigail groaned. “You realize you're ruining this right? You are this huge, eligible bachelor, some woman somewhere is going to want to make you very happy. You just have to give one a chance.”
“You are really going to grill me about my love life? Or can I be a big brother and ask how you are?”
There was a beat of silence. She gave him the same answer she always gave. “I'm fine, Jacob. Same as last time.”
He clenched his jaw. The problem was that when she said she was fine that meant she was in excruciating pain. When she was a baby, she was diagnosed with a rare genetic condition that hardened her arteries and veins, eventually moving to her muscles and skin. Simple everyday things were painful for her.
It was the reason Jacob paid for her round-the-clock care. She didn’t get out much. Besides the nurses, he was really her only connection to the outside world for all things fun and frivolous. Too bad he was the last person on earth who knew anything about fun and frivolous. But for her, he tried. Every time he called her, he tried to read up on some tidbit about pop culture so he could talk to her about it.
Not like she didn’t have the Internet or anything. What she was mostly missing were friends. He could do that for her.
When he didn’t immediately answer, she muttered, “Okay, fine. I’ll back off.”
Jacob didn’t want her to back off. He was just feeling cranky. He signed the papers in front of him, and with a sigh, he told her what she wanted to know. “Okay. I have been spending a lot of time with someone lately. But it's not romantic. I’m helping her be more professional.”
He could almost see Abigail sitting up, taking notes, and paying attention. “Oh, really big brother? Is she another boring socialite? Because if she is, you might as well stop right there. Isn’t there a billionaire matchmaking service or something that will pair you with someone fun?”
She did have a point. He'd lost a lot of interest in dating because it was the same boring girls. The daughter of this senator, sister of this federal prosecutor, or her mother was so and so. And they all knew each other, forming an odd incestuous pool of overly botoxed paper dolls. “No, she’s uh, she's not like that.” His brain offered up an image of Jenna that day at the salon. The way he'd taken her from the sullen skater to a bombshell.
And that kiss. He'd never regretted anything more, or wanted to repeat anything so badly. “She's warm and funny. We’re sort of becoming friends.”
“I don’t think you know how this is supposed to work. You're supposed to want to see her naked.”
And he did. Fuck, he did. Bloody well all the time. A whiff of perfume. The way she moved. It didn’t take much. It was fucking with him, because he could remember how she tasted. The little gasp she made when he delved deeper.
“It's not that simple.” Before he knew it, he was spilling the events of the last few weeks, telling her everything. Jenna's obsession with Hawke. His sudden unwelcome obsession with her. And through it all, Abigail sat silent until he was done.
“Wow. So you're acting as her coach and you drank your own…what is that vile concoction Americans drink as kids? Kool-Aid?”
Jacob laughed. “Maybe there's a little of that, but it's not about how she looks.” He shifted in his seat. “It’s more about seeing her become who she can be. She's smart. But she's so overwhelmed that she never gets to show how smart she is. And she’s caring with the volunteers, she's great with the kids. You can tell she's one of the people that really cares.”
“So what's the problem? You can take a rock star, can’t you?”
“This is hardly a back-alley fight, Abigail. Besides, it's not like that with Jenna. She’s not my type. At all. I’m simply noticing how fit she is. How…”
“Special?”
Yes, and they'd be in Vegas for the next few days, so he'd be seeing a lot more of her. “Different than many people I deal with.”
“Not to mention you’re thinking about that kiss.”
He would regret telling Abigail that detail. “It wasn’t like that. I mean, she kept making these references to me being gay, so I showed her I wasn't.” His dick twitched in agreement. Atta boy. We like girls, specifically that girl. “She's all wrong.”
“Didn't you just say all those sorority types were boring and tedious.”
“What's your point?”
“If they are boring and tedious, why not try someone new? Maybe not this girl, but someone normal. You know, who doesn’t actually own a gala dress. Maybe it's time to adjust what you think of as the 'right' kind of woman. You might be missing out on something great. Maybe not your type at all is just the type you need.”
He'd never thought about it that way. “I'm not sure—” His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. A text alert from Jenna.
911. I'm stranded and I need your help.
His gut knotted as his heart skipped a beat. “Hey, Abigail. I need to take care of something. I'll call you from the plane this afternoon, all right?”
“Sounds good. And Jacob, I want to meet this girl.”
“We'll discuss it later.” Much later.
* * *
Jacob worked hard to keep his temper in check, but the fury coursed through his veins as he drove all the way out to Perris to pick up Jenna. What the fuck was she doing taking a day trip out that far when she knew they were leaving for Vegas that afternoon? Of course he knew the answer to that question and no matter what he did, it just mad
e him angrier.
He pulled up in his sports car to the tiny diner that was close enough to a pasture to catch a hint of manure. Bloody fantastic. He slammed the door to the car as Jenna stumbled out. The mixture of relief and annoyance and joy hit him like a sledgehammer. “Jenna.”
She waved shyly. “Hi.”
That was it? He'd killed his late morning and early afternoon appointments to drop everything just so he could come and rescue her and all she had to say was hi?
He strolled around to the passenger door and opened it. “Get in.”
She flushed as she clutched her purse to her side. Her limp was back and that made him all the more furious. If she was limping again it meant she'd done something to strain her leg. The next few days in Vegas were going to be a grueling pace. He needed her at top form.
She slid in silently and he steeled himself for the brief whiff of her perfume.
He also had to steel himself against the automatic need to take care of her. No doubt this whole fiasco had to do something with the idiotic wonder, Hawke with an E.
Once back in the car he started the drive back to San Diego like he was running from the devil. Or more like he was trying to run from the physically palpable pull Jenna had on him.
Ignoring her, he took care of some business, answering calls and delegating errands. Trying to lay some groundwork for an upcoming benefit. About forty-five minutes in, her soft voice broke through the cacophony of silence in the car. “I’m sorry.”
Jacob kept his eyes on the road. “What happened?”
She chewed her bottom lip, trying to hide the quiver, but he saw it. Shit.
He pulled over to the shoulder of the two-lane highway with a screech. “It’s okay, Red, you can tell me. I’m not mad.” Nope. Mad was far too mild a word for what he was feeling at the moment. Incensed was a better description.
She inhaled deeply and waited several seconds before she spoke. “Look, I know. I was irresponsible and I’m just this silly girl. I’m pathetic. You don’t need to look at me like that. I already know it. I feel it. I breathe it.”