Chapter Thirty-Three
Jake
I’m not sure what I’m most shocked about. Emily listening to me when I told her to get into my pickup. Or that she’s now standing in my living room. The room that not so long ago, I kicked her out of and had no intention of ever allowing her back into.
It’s amazing what time and perspective can change.
But now, what do I do? I shove my hands into my pockets. I didn’t expect this to be so hard.
She stands in the middle of my living room with her arms crossed over her chest, and wary eyes darting over the sparse furnishings. I’ve focused more on the renovation project than the interior design.
While I had time to change, she didn’t. She’s still in her uniform from work with her hair piled high on her head to keep it out of the way during calls. Her second uniform of the day, changing after taking care of the baby.
And I’m still standing here, doing nothing. If I move too fast, she might bolt, and if I play it too cool, she’s going to think I’m not serious. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.
I ache to pull her into my arms and kiss her until morning. Those lush lips. Her delicious curves. Her sassy mouth. My entire body buzzes with electricity.
Her eyes meet mine, and the worry there sends all thought of sex out the window. I rake my hand through my hair. I offered her a night of relaxation after an emotional day. Not to screw her brains out.
“Have a seat.” I motion to the sofa. She remains staring at me as if she can’t figure me out.
I need to do something to ease her tension.
“I know I said I’d make you cold cereal, but I don’t have any.
” My lips twitch at the corners in hopes of disarming her.
“But I think you’ll like what I have instead. ”
She licks her lips while rubbing her upper arms. “What’s that?”
I swallow over the lump in my throat as a wave of uncertainty takes root inside my chest. This is a bad idea.
Emily barely tolerates me. Sure, she kissed me back when I kissed her, but that was likely from an adrenaline crash.
She was emotionally exhausted, and I provided a reprieve from hitting rock bottom.
A dopamine hit. She probably regrets it already.
“I have some triple chocolate cake.” That’s my best line? I’m screwed.
Her eyes widen with interest. “From Jolie’s?”
“Of course, what other kind is there?” I shrug as if this conversation doesn’t carry the weight of my entire future on it. “I picked it up from Laura earlier today. I didn’t know until the fire at the Gannon residence that the market carried their desserts.”
“Thank heavens for that. I don’t think I would’ve survived without their cake.” She unlaces her arms and rubs her palms on her thighs. “Can you believe my mom thinks that German chocolate is a suitable alternative to triple chocolate cake?”
I clutch my chest in mock horror. “That’s sacrilegious.”
“Exactly.” The corners of her mouth twitch. “Finally, we have something we can agree on.”
“And wine.”
“We agree on wine?” She arches an eyebrow as I step closer. Putting less distance between us seems like a good idea. She tenses.
Or not. I stop in my tracks.
I raise my hands with my palms open toward her. “Yes, I have a feeling that we do. Don’t you agree that Ruby Port pairs perfectly with triple chocolate cake?’
The clock above the television ticks as her eyes travel over me, gauging me. Trying to decipher my angle. I don’t have one. Or not at least a devious one.
Moments pass as if she’s trying to decide if drinking wine and eating cake with me is a good idea or not, and then, she says, “Yes, it does. It’s the only sane choice.” She bites her bottom lip. “Why?”
“Why does red wine pair perfectly with chocolate cake?”
“No.” She rolls her eyes. “Why do you want me here?” She waves her hand around the room. “You could have any woman you want–”
“No, I can’t.” I can’t have her. Or at least I couldn’t until this moment. And only if she agrees to give me a chance. I’ve spent years trying to get her alone. Without her wanting to claw my eyes out.
Heat flares in her eyes. “Yes, you can. Don’t placate me. I know you. You aren’t some stranger I met at the bar who can pretend he’s not God’s gift to women. You’re Jake Thompson, the Eagle Scout, the championship quarterback, the homecoming king.”
I inch closer with each item she lists until we’re nose to nose. Her breath catches in her lungs, and I cup her cheeks. “And you’re you.”
Before she can protest, I place my lips against hers, slowly brushing our mouths together. And nothing else.
She’s beautiful. Perfect. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of having.
Her body vibrates as she sways on her feet. I pull back, opening my eyes to find hers closed. Her cheeks are pink. Her lips slightly puckered. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
When her hazel gaze meets mine, I brush my thumbs along her cheekbones. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. The only person I want here with me….”
Forever is on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back. She’s not ready to hear that. At least, not yet. But by the end of the night, I plan to prove to her in no uncertain terms that she’s always been it for me.
“Tonight, I want to show you how good we can be together. That we can leave the past in the past.”
She blinks and licks her lips. “And what? Have a good time?”
“For starters.”
She exhales slowly and says, “Okay.”
When she throws her arms around my neck and yanks my head down, I bite back a groan of satisfaction. And all thoughts of slow go out my drafty upstairs window.
Our mouths smash together in desperate greed. I want her. I need her. Her tongue slides along mine with a low whimper of desire escaping her lips. And she wants me. Our hands are everywhere at once. Grazing over each other. Clutching. Skimming. Kneading.
I can’t get enough as she arches against me like a cat, rubbing and purring with pleasure.
When her fingers grip my hair, I clasp her ass and grind into her. The soft warmth of her body cradles my rock-hard erection. It’s been years since I’ve been with anyone. Since I’ve wanted to be with anyone.
And it’s Emily. In my living room. Kissing me like she needs me to breathe.
But I don’t want it over with before it begins. This is about more than release. This is building a future.
I pull back, staring into her lust-filled eyes and do the hardest thing I’ve ever done. “Go have a seat on the sofa. I’ll grab us some wine and cake.”
Worry covers her features. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Never.” I cup her face again. “You can never do anything wrong. Nothing that I don’t want. But I invited you here to de-stress. Not paw all over you.”
“Oh….”
“Now.” I kiss her forehead. “Go, sit down, kick off your shoes, and relax. I’ll be back with your dessert."
"And here…” Her eyes dance with humor. “I thought you were the dessert.”
All the blood in my head rushes to my dick, making me lightheaded because there wasn’t much left in my brain to start with.
“No, Em, you’re going to be my dessert.” I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, eliciting a delicious moan from deep in her throat.
God, I love how responsive she is.
A rush of jealousy floods through me as thoughts of the other men she’s been with. Spencer. I should’ve punched him in the face twice. I was bringing her triple chocolate cake that day. The day she threw her arms around his neck and chose him.
Don’t. Leave the past in the past. That’s where it belongs. She’s here in my arms. Not his. And that’s where I intend to keep her.