Practically Persuaded in Pittsburgh

by JB Schroeder

  As for him, there were counterbalances. He missed his dad, but he was glad to be home and really excited to be on the path to doing something good for his mom.

  Then there was Sadie. It’d been one helluva week of flirting with her. What was it about her? They hadn’t even needed any warmup time—they’d just started sharing looks and quips, and before he knew it, he could barely keep an order straight because he was so tuned in to her.

  Every time she reached across him to slide the order tickets down (he silently thanked his dad for keeping it old school), every time she flashed him that wide grin across the room, every time he managed to get within range of her scent…

  He flipped a couple of burgers and tossed some shrimp and stole a glance toward the front, knowing she’d be back looking for this order soon.

  He shook his head. He’d thought that because this was a practical arrangement, that they could just act their way through it. Yeah, he’d had the hots for her when he was younger, but he’d spent so many years avoiding her that he’d sort of thought he was in the clear. He’d always believed they were better off as friends. The old reasons still stood: she worked here, she was part of the family. Heck, to his mom? Sadie was the daughter she’d never had. Jake had never wanted to mess with that.

  Until now. Now he really, really wanted to mess with that. He was practically obsessed with messing with that.

  That was why he’d suggested the show tonight. He’d originally been thinking they’d go out next week, but the heavy flirting had pushed the gas pedal on his timeline. Plus, they might as well start easing his mom into this idea. The sooner they spent time together outside of The Wanderlust, the better.

  As far as he was concerned, the more time they spent together period, the better.

  He liked Sadie. Always had. He liked her enough—and the feeling was mutual, he thought—that they could exit this charade with their friendship intact, right?

  He just had to remember to keep his hands to himself tonight.

  Or did he?

  7

  Sadie got a strange thrill from showing up at Vine with Jake in tow. Her bouncer friend had raised an eyebrow; her bartender friend raised two. Sadie figured Jeremy would do the same once he spotted them—too bad he didn’t have three eyebrows. Then again, Jeremy thought of her like a sister and might just as easily assume that it was no different for Jake—that they were simply buddies.

  Sadie introduced Jake to the staff she knew, but she had an odd desire to keep him all to herself, so she didn’t bother with small talk. Once they each had a beer in hand, she grabbed his hand and tugged him across the space toward the far wall. That was another thrill—holding hands with Jake. She was allowed—even supposed to—touch him because of this arrangement. It felt just right. Totally natural.

  They’d arrived between sets, and the interim music was loud, but manageable.

  Jake clinked his bottle with hers. “So what’s Dog Daze’s most well-known song?”

  “‘Trio’, definitely.”

  “Is that your favorite?”

  “They’re all good. You’ll see.”

  The band came on and the volume rose exponentially. Sadie grinned at Jake and hollered her support.

  Somewhere in the middle of the set, a server with black hair and loads of piercings shouldered up to them with a full tray. She plucked two bottles up and handed them to Jake. “From Jeremy,” the server shouted, and inclined her head toward the bar.

  Sure enough, Jeremy was over there moving at his usual hundred miles an hour. As soon as he looked toward them, they both raised their drinks. He nodded and held up a hand.

  Good timing on the cold brewskies, Sadie thought. Heat rose between her and Jake—and not just from dancing. She’d caught Jake’s gaze on her breasts and swinging hips, and she’d been eyeing him up, too. She appreciated a man who could dance. Rhythm and coordination would transfer nicely to the bedroom.

  Yowza. Thank goodness the lights were low, because her cheeks were on fire at that thought.

  Just then, the lead singer said, “We’re gonna slow things down now.”

  They launched into a sexy blues number—one that was fraught with innuendo and “nothing like some good loving” lyrics. Jake took Sadie’s beer from her hand and put it on the narrow ledge along the wall.

  “Dance with me,” he said. He put his hands on her hips and tugged her close. Sadie raised an eyebrow but couldn’t stop the smile that played about her lips. She looped her arms behind his neck, and they moved together.

  God, he felt good and smelled good—because yes, she still smelled him, spicy soap and warm male, under the smell of the griddle that felt like home to her. She looked into his face and saw he had to tear his eyes from her lips.

  He held her gaze until the song changed into its most soulful part. She loosened her hands, arched her torso backward, and let her head fall back and circle with the music. When she came back upright, he pulled her even closer—right against him—and kept both hands pressed to the small of her back. She wondered if he wished they were on her butt, because she sure did.

  She took a deep breath, expanding her chest, and Jake’s eyes lingered there and then traveled, heavy-lidded, over her collarbones, her neck, her chin, her lips, before finally meeting her eyes. The heat she saw there shot straight to her core. She felt smokin’ and languorous and needy all at once.

  He leaned in, and for just a second, she felt his breath on her neck. Then his lips closed over the tendon there. She moaned.

  He said into her ear, “This is my favorite song.”

  An electric current shot through her body. If they’d been somewhere private, she’d have lifted one leg and wrapped it around him. Truth be told, she might have wrapped both legs around him.

  The song ended just as Jake straightened. Sadie was gratified to see that his eyes looked as heavy with desire as her body felt.

  She wasn’t the only one affected. Unless maybe, unlike her, Jake had retained a clear head and was aware that they could feasibly have an audience—his brother.

  Maybe he was pretending, pushing fast forward on this script, even here.

  If it hadn’t been for the lights coming up, Jake would have kissed Sadie right there on the dance floor. Watching her dance, then feeling her move—whoa. His body could easily have beat a coal-fired oven for temperature.

  As it was, they stayed pressed together, her arms looped over his shoulders, his thumbs at her waist and his fingers on her lower back, reluctant to let her go.

  She gave him a sexy smile, and her fingertips moved softly over the short hair at the nape of his neck.

  “That song might be my new favorite, too,” Sadie said.

  He smiled back and rubbed his thumbs over her hipbones, denim and all. “It’s good to have an open mind about these things.”

  Her eyes sparkled and she opened her mouth—

  And then some drunken ass rammed into them, breaking them apart.

  “Hey, watch it,” Jake said. He shoved the guy out of their space, blocking Sadie in the process in case things got crazy. But the dipshit only raised his hands to say sorry and tottered away.

  Jake turned back to Sadie, but the spell had been broken.

  Even now, walking her home, he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her. He remembered how good she’d felt all those years ago when they’d swigged Firefly in the storeroom and things had gotten a little out of hand. He suspected she’d feel even better now.

  Jake looked at her out of the corner of his eye. They’d stopped back at The Wanderlust for her things. He carried her backpack over one shoulder. Although he’d offered, she pushed her bike. He had the distinct feeling that she was using it as a barrier. It wasn’t between them, but still, it kept her hands and her focus occupied. Maybe he wasn’t the only one that had the urge to touch…

  He’d like to be holding her hand right now. He’d like to wrap his arm around her waist and walk in step. More than anything, he’d like to stop
in the middle of the street and tilt her face up and taste her gorgeous, full lips…

  He’d been so caught up at the bar—the music, her movements, the look in her eyes, and then her sexy body flush against his—that he’d put his lips to her neck during that song. She’d smelled sweet and tasted salty, but it was her moan that had really sent him over the edge.

  He wished like hell he knew what she’d been about to say before they were interrupted.

  What he did know was that it would have been good. It would have been flirty and sassy and stunning. And probably it would have either stopped his heart or sent it into overdrive.

  Because this was Sadie. And this was how he reacted to her.

  One long-ago, mind-blowing kiss. One week of flirting culminating in one hot-as-hell dance. And all those years of distance in between didn’t mean squat.

  The realization hit him as painfully as a frying pan upside the head. He wasn’t going to be able to be just friends with Sadie.

  He wanted more. He’d wanted his hands all over her, and hers all over him. He wanted—

  Shit. What did that mean for him—for them—at the end of all this?

  He almost didn’t care what it meant. He’d never gone wrong following his instincts. He’d always known what he wanted. Right now he wanted—

  No—Jake shook the larger implications off. It was too much to contend with right now. He’d just have to trust his gut and worry about the rest later.

  He stole another glance at Sadie. She looked down at her handlebars, the helmet swaying where it hung with each step. Her shoulders looked tense; her gait was stiff. Gone were the fluid, sultry moves from the bar, the sexy smile, the half-lidded eyes.

  He had jumped ahead. Dove all in. But she wasn’t there with him. Not right this second, anyway.

  “Beautiful night,” he said.

  She glanced at the sky above the buildings and said, “It sure is.” But instead of meeting his gaze or even turning her head his way, she refocused dead ahead.

  Jake shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t know what to say or how to bring them back to the easy, connected feeling they’d enjoyed all week. And it was a long walk on foot.

  Hell, maybe she was a really, really good actor. Maybe tonight it had been all about the music and the fact that she’d had a little beer at the end of a long week. Maybe he’d misread her entirely and that death grip she had on the bike meant hey, dude, I agreed to the charade, but don’t push it.

  When they reached Sadie’s building, she stopped and finally looked at him. “Thanks for tonight,” she said. “That was nice.”

  Jake mimicked stabbing himself in the heart. “Just nice?”

  She rolled her eyes. “All right, it was fun.”

  He grinned. “I can live with that. For now.”

  She propped a hand on her hip. “What does that mean?”

  Jake shrugged—hell, he didn’t even know what it meant yet—and handed her backpack over. “Can I carry your bike up?”

  “I’ve got it,” she said, and he suspected she didn’t want to deal with him inside her apartment. She narrowed her eyes. “What are you cooking up?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  “You sound like you’re ten years old all over again,” she said.

  “You didn’t know me when I was ten,” he said.

  “Good thing, too, because I wouldn’t have liked you much,” she muttered, but Jake knew she was just feigning annoyance.

  He leaned in and kissed her softly on the cheek. He hovered close enough that he could smell her and long enough to make sure she’d wonder if he was going to kiss her for real.

  “I would have liked you,” he said, and looked her right in the eye. “A lot.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Jake took a chance and caressed her lower lip with his thumb—though he wished like hell it was his tongue.

  Her breath hitched. Satisfied, he felt his lips curl up. He was so damn tempted to lean in, yet he forced himself to turn away. He’d only made it a couple of steps before he remembered one more thing and turned. She hadn’t moved, was just standing there staring after him—which was a very, very good sign.

  He grinned. “I had a great time tonight.”

  8

  Sadie and Jake both worked a long shift Saturday. He gave her a brilliant smile when she arrived, and the next thing she knew, he’d drawn her right back to the teasing and flirting she’d so enjoyed the week before.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. Oh, she wanted to, all right.

  She’d just gotten nervous last night. Because she realized after that dance just how badly she wanted him. Just how far under his spell she was. Sheesh, if that buffoon hadn’t bumped into them, if they’d been anywhere but in public? She’d have jumped into bed with him before she had time to think it through.

  Because it all felt so good. So right.

  Probably because she’d always wanted this, wanted him. Dreamed of it—yet never dreamed it would really happen.

  Yet it was happening—and that was the problem. It felt real. At least whenever she was interacting with him. And she desperately wanted it to be real.

  But as soon as the evening rush died down and she spent less time rushing for customers and more time on menial tasks like setting tables and restocking things, she had too much time to think.

  “Goodnight,” she called to some customers who’d already paid but finally decided to stop lingering. She waved as they headed out the front door, then grabbed a bin and bused their table.

  She suspected that to Jake, none of their flirting was real. To him, it was probably a plan of action. A carefully thought out charade. She gave him a sidelong glance as she crossed the kitchen. What did he give her in return?

  A wink! He was executing his plan like a master. Playing her like a fiddle custom-made for him.

  She slammed down the bus bin of dishes on the metal counter way too hard. Sal, the usual dishwasher (not that they didn’t all pitch in when need be), raised an eyebrow.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “Sadie,” Rita called from out front.

  Sadie hustled out of the kitchen, only to meet Rita behind the counter. “Two parties just came in. One’s big. You want them or do you need a break soon?”

  “I’ll take them both, if Denise is cool with that.” It would keep her mind occupied.

  “She’s hoping to leave early, so all yours.”

  “Awesome,” Sadie said, and went to greet clients and share the specials.

  The new tables turned out to be just the beginning of a late-night rush. Despite that, she and Jake somehow ended up in the kitchen alone around eleven p.m. She clipped a ticket up and slid the magnet down toward Jake, whose bandana looked decidedly damp with sweat by now. She turned to go, but Jake snagged a finger in her apron strings and tugged her back.

  “What are you thinking so hard about today, Sades?” he asked. He looked earnestly into her eyes.

  Crumb. Was she wearing every unsure, worried thought plastered across her face?

  “I’m too busy to think.” She swatted at his hand. “And you should be too. We’ve got three more four-tops nearly ready to order.”

  “Stop thinking,” he said, and squeezed her waist between two fingers.

  She yelped and squirmed away. Not only was she ticklish, it was the first time he’d touched her today.

  George, today’s kitchen assistant, returned with an armful of items from the freezer.

  Jake leaned into Sadie’s space and said in a low voice, “Just enjoy this ride with me.” Then he smiled that mischievous grin that always got her. “It’s gonna be way better than nice. It’s going to be great.”

  That was exactly what worried her. Jake had only been home for a week. And they’d gone out once. Yet she was already having the time of her life.

  She was totally doomed.

  Rita insisted that Jake take Sunday off, just like his dad used to, so Jake s
lept in. He lay in the queen-sized guest bed corner to corner for a while, stretching out his tight muscles. He was in decent shape; he ran and worked out regularly. Standing on his feet and sweating over a hot grill most of the week, however, was a whole different kind of ache.

  Before he and Sal had finished up last night, Sadie had called goodbye and slipped out the door. He’d been hoping to escort her home again and maybe steal a late-night kiss, although he would have been happy if she’d just graced him with one of her wide, happy smiles. Instead, it seemed, she’d purposely avoided him, and he had no idea why.

  Jake finally levered himself up and padded out to his mom’s kitchen. She was putting on her jacket and reaching for her purse.

  “Church?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “You should try it sometime.”

  He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. This was an old conversation, and he knew she didn’t care so much as she liked to pretend she did.

  “Plenty to eat in the fridge, if you can stand to cook something.”

  He gave her a wry grin. “I don’t suppose there’s any cereal?” He and his brothers had gone through metric tons of the stuff when they were young.

  She chuckled. “Bottom shelf of the pantry.”

  She had to tell him because his parents had downsized to this updated two-bedroom home only a couple of years ago. It was still in Bellevue, but wasn’t the old house he’d grown up in.

  “There’s still coffee in the pot,” she said. She headed toward the door.

  “Hey, Mom?” he called as he snagged a mug. “Are you planning on going to the game this afternoon?”

  She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I thought about it, but no, I don’t think I will.”

  “When you’re ready,” he said, “I’ll go with you.”

  She came back into the room and kissed him on the cheek with a big mwaaa sound. “You always were my favorite.”

  “Hah,” Jake said. He well knew that whoever was behaving best was her favorite. “Did you promise the tickets to anyone?”