I laugh nervously. It seems with every word and every kiss, I’m getting closer and closer to saying yes. To jumping.
“Believe it or not, I have no doubt that’s absolutely true.”
“I guarantee you the reality of what I’ll do to you is far better than anything you can imagine.”
My heart is pounding and I’m finding it harder to remember why I shouldn’t be playing with fire this way. “Jake, I—”
“No excuses. No explanations. I know all your reasons and all your hesitations. And you don’t owe me any of them. The only thing I want to hear from those luscious lips of yours is one word. ‘Yes.’ And until you say it, this is what you’ll get,” he says, crushing his lips to mine in a kiss that sears me all the way to my soul. When my insides are like melted butter, he releases me and backs away. “But try not to burn the house down in the meantime.” He grins, turning to walk back into the house.
The smoke has dissipated considerably, but it still smells terrible. “So this is what hell is like,” I murmur as I curl up my nose and look around.
“Does that make me the devil?” Jake asks, looking back at me with one brow raised in challenge.
“The jury’s still out on that one.”
He laughs. “So, since ruining breakfast, you now have two choices for the start of your day. Option number one—which just so happens to be the one I most highly recommend—you let me carry you to the shower where I can give intense attention to making sure every inch of your skin is free of smoky residue. Option number two, we go for a run and then we come back and take a shower, after which I’ll be fixing you breakfast. One that’s not toxic.”
“You cook?” I ask, changing the subject before I impulsively choose option number one, which I’m becoming increasingly interested in.
“I’m a fireman. My chili-making skills are the stuff of legend.”
“Chili for breakfast?”
“Oh, no. I’ll tantalize your taste buds with my culinary delights. You’ll be so smitten with me, we’ll spend the following two hours in bed, where you’ll be worshipping my body as payment for such epicurean awesomeness.”
“Epicurean awesomeness?”
“Yep.”
I narrow my eyes and wrinkle my nose. “Tough choices, but I think I’ll go with option number two point five.”
“I don’t remember offering any such option.”
“Then I’ll just have to surprise you,” I say, prancing away from him as I make my way to the stairs. I have to get some distance from him before I make a big, big mistake. “You’re not the only one with skills.”
That one raven brow arches and a slow smile spreads across Jake’s face. “Decided to take up the gauntlet, did we?”
“Maybe.”
“Not gonna be the good girl after all?”
“Maybe not always.”
“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”
“I think you might be right.”
With that, I mount the steps, feeling a little bit scared, a little bit uncertain, and a little bit giddy. But most of all, I feel free.
* * *
As it turns out, I lack imagination. And courage, evidently. At least I lack the courage to really step out and be the bad girl. To take the risk.
A dozen different ways to end a run with Jake went through my mind, some sexy and some not so much. I ended up chickening out and opting to bring him out for breakfast. Sweat and all.
So, here we are. Sitting at the bar of the one diner in town that serves breakfast all day (and looks like a single-wide trailer).
“So this is point five,” Jake muses, shaking his head and looking around Rita’s.
“Point five?”
“According to you, option ‘two point five’ would be daring. I didn’t think you meant daring in the way of salmonella.”
I give him a dubious look. “You know good and well the food here is great.”
“Yet that’s not the point, is it?”
I look into his discerning amber eyes and I say nothing. He’s right. And he knows it.
“Are you really that afraid of taking a little risk? Or is it just that you’re afraid of taking a little risk with me?”
Before I can answer, a familiar voice sounds behind me, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
“So, this is what it’s come to? My daughter comes back home for a visit and I have to casually run into her at the diner just to see her?”
I turn on my stool to see my father standing a few feet behind me, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets, his expression bland. Well, bland to those who didn’t grow up under his roof. For those of us who did, there is a storm brewing just beneath the surface, a storm that comes with an hour-long sermon-slash-lecture attached to it. I’ve only been the recipient of a couple. I was always a good girl and avoided trouble of this kind. But still, I got one every once in a while. Not fun. And even now, several years into being an adult, I still feel the urge to shrink under his disapproval. But, mindful of Jake at my side, I hold my ground.
“Not at all, Daddy. We were just out for some breakfast. You remember Jake Theopolis, right?”
My nerves are jangling. I know how my father feels about Jake. Jake does, too, after last night. I just hope he doesn’t embarrass us all by showing it in front of Jake.
“Sir,” Jake says with a nod, coming to his feet to face Daddy. He extends his hand politely toward him.
At first my father just looks down at Jake’s hand like it’s dirty, but then he smiles and gives it a quick shake.
“So, you’re the one that’s lured my daughter into a life of sin,” he says, as amicably as if he were talking about the weather.
“Daddy!” I exclaim, mortified.
“Not that I know of,” Jake says with an unaffected smile as he resumes his seat next to me. I get the feeling he isn’t nearly as relaxed as he appears, however, when he leans back against the bar facing my father, crossing his arms over his chest. That’s clearly a defensive posture.
“Are you saying that she hasn’t been staying at your house? Because I can’t think for the life of me where else she might’ve gone.”
“I didn’t say that. But I’ve been working at the fire station, so she’s had the place to herself.”
My father nods, but I can tell he’s still not satisfied. He wants blood. Jake’s blood.
“Well, regardless, you can imagine how something like that looks. How it reflects on her fine character.”