Chapter 5 #2
“I contain multitudes, darling,” he answered. “This is my workweek wardrobe. I’m another person on weekends.” Then he looked me up and down. “You’ve changed as well,” he said, disappointment lacing his words.
“So where’s Jake?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager.
With a flick of his head, Jin gestured to the window framing a dark green, vintage convertible in the driveway. That definitely hadn’t been there the day before.
Just as I was admiring its fine lines and glossy exterior, the hood came down and my heart thrummed at the sight of Jake in faded jeans and a dark T-shirt like the day before, but now he had a towel and was wiping motor oil from his hand.
Damn, now I was going to have to add “sexy mechanic” to my list of Jake fantasies. He looked so incredibly hot that I was sure big cartoon hearts were popping out of my eyes.
“He’s taken the entire engine out. Again. He does that when he’s stressed or bothered about something,” Jin explained.
“Oh, what’s he bothered about?” I asked absently as I continued to admire the way his muscles flexed as he pushed the hood down.
“Hmm, I wonder.” Jin flashed a wicked grin at me just as Jake strode toward the French doors of the office. He stopped short when he saw me.
“Good morning,” I said brightly.
“Morning,” he responded. His eyes traveled briefly down my body, but he looked away just as quickly. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a bed as much.” Jin snickered, and my cheeks heated.
“Excuse me,” Jake said coolly, reaching past me to grab a notebook from his desk. His arm grazed my boob as he leaned over, and I may have gasped or moaned or made some sound in between; that touch, I felt it in my bones. Jake jumped back as if he had been burned. “Did I get grease on you?”
“No.” I glanced down at my chest where my heart was pounding so hard I was convinced he could hear it.
“Jin,” said Jake as he walked toward his desk. “Any word from Artemis Group?”
“They want the remaining Hermitages. They’ll buy the Swiss wines as well,” he replied without taking his eyes off the computer.
They then began studying spreadsheets and talking about mysterious vintages with obscure names.
They could have been speaking Mandarin for all I was able to understand from the conversation.
A pit of anxiety grew in my stomach. I could see why Jake was reluctant to have me join their two-person team. If they had to train me, I’d be a pesky pebble in a well-oiled machine.
I cleared my throat, and they both looked up as if they’d forgotten I was there. “I’m going to make coffee. Would anyone like some?”
“I’ll show you the machine.” Jake started toward me, but I was already backing out the door.
“No, I can manage. I saw there was a French press.”
With relief I found my way back to the kitchen, the only place where I ever truly felt I belonged. I found a packet of unground coffee beans in the cabinet and inhaled the comforting odor. This was something I understood.
While the coffee was brewing, I checked my email; both Callie and my dad had written me back. I clicked on Callie’s message first.
Hey lady,
Yes, you forgot your phone at my place. Am I surprised? No.
Will I use this as an excuse to bring it to you in person and check out that fabulous villa? You know it.
Do you think Hot Boss will let me crash for one night?
Love ya!
As much as I’d love to see Callie, I wasn’t crazy about asking if I could have a guest over so soon. Jake had said that I could invite a friend, but the first weekend? I gripped the bag of coffee, inhaled, and started to write back.
Thank God you found the phone. All the pics I took on our trip are on it.
As for Hot Boss—
“You found the coffee.” Jake’s deep, raspy morning voice went straight through me like a shot of espresso. I snapped my laptop closed.
He scrunched his forehead in the most deliciously confused way as his eyes flicked from my computer to my face. “Didn’t mean to startle you again. Everything all right? You seem a bit anxious.”
“That’s because I haven’t had my coffee yet,” I said stupidly.
“Oh yeah? Was that why you had your nose buried in it?” He dimpled slightly and I relaxed. If I could make him sort of smile maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
He strolled to the sink and began scrubbing his forearms. I tried not to watch, but it was mesmerizing.
“Yeah, it’s a very comforting smell. Like new books.” Or your cologne .
Jake nodded in agreement as he plucked three cups out of the cabinet.
My eyes were still riveted to his large hands as he poured two cups of coffee and filled the other cup with hot water.
“Jin only drinks tea. He’s very particular about what he puts in his mouth, or so he tells me. ” He passed me a cup. “Sugar? Milk?”
“Black,” I managed to say, snapping out of my daze.
He leaned back against the countertop, his beautiful arms on display. His warm hazel eyes met mine. “You have a good nose.”
My hand came up to touch my nose as if it were some foreign appendage. I’d never given it much thought; it was neither too big nor too small. It was just there. “Um, thanks. Yours isn’t bad either.”
It was a nice nose—slim, elegant, slightly long. I’d studied him enough in profile to write a thesis about it.
His mouth turned up in that reluctant smile again. “No, that’s not what I meant. When you have a good nose, it means you have a heightened sense of smell and taste. It’s essential for someone who works in food or wine. It’s like having perfect pitch or a good ear.”
“Oh.” That made sense: I’d always been bothered by strong, unpleasant odors and very sensitive to smells in general. “Maybe that’s why I like to cook?”
“Probably.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck, as if massaging away some invisible tension. “Ben called last night. I came to find you, but you were already asleep. He said he’d write.”
My eyes widened with the realization that I’d passed out last night half naked and tangled in my bathrobe. Jesus, what had he seen?
“Okay, thanks. I already wrote to him.” My voice came out in a higher pitch than usual.
An awkward silence stretched between us, and he pushed away from the counter like he was getting ready to leave. I wanted to keep talking to him, though, so I desperately searched for something to say. “So, nice car out there. Is that another one of your passions?”
“Yeah, I found it in Bordeaux last year. It’s a ’69 Aston Martin DB6 Volante.” He rubbed at the oil stains on his old jeans. “I work on it when I need to blow off steam. It calms me down. Like coffee, for you.”
“Stressful morning?”
“Yep, there’s been a lot of those lately.”
Before I could ask him a follow-up question, he scooped up Jin’s tea and said, “I’ve probably let this steep too long. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I started to gather my things and follow him, but he stopped me. “Jin and I are going to be in meetings all day. There’s not a whole lot for you to do. Why don’t you go discover the village or hang out at the pool?”
“Sure, I’ll keep myself busy. Don’t worry about it.” So much for my plans to prove that I wouldn’t be completely useless while I was here.
When he reached the doorway, he hesitated and turned back. “Tonight, I can give you a lesson in wine tasting, if you’d like.” He seemed to have surprised himself with the offer.
“That would be wonderful,” I said, grinning like a dog who’d just been thrown a bone. So much for appearing cool and sophisticated. I clearly couldn’t pull it off right now.
But in that moment, I didn’t care. It looked like all was not lost after all.