5. Jake
JAKE
The second I walked into the club, I knew for certain what I wanted.
No. That was wrong.
It was greater than want.
It was what I needed.
The same thing I’d wanted for the last few months.
The same person.
Kate Williams.
In many ways, she’d been a mystery to me, and like in a good whodunit, I wanted to unravel her. Wanted to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of hers. She watched everyone, seemed to soak in details, to absorb everything she saw.
She seemed, too, like the kind of woman who knew everyone’s secrets.
Did she know mine? That I fantasized about her relentlessly? About telling her what I wanted to do to her, whispering sweet, filthy words in her ear about taking her up against the wall, bent over the bed, right here, right now. Hard, deep, primal.
Anywhere, everywhere.
Lust was a gift, but it could be an out-and-out annoyance too.
Because the woman was, to put it mildly, hard as hell to read.
Despite the regular texting, she’d given no real indication she’d be game for more.
But sometimes I’d see Kate looking at me, checking me out, her eyes roaming up and down my frame. Fair play, I figured. I’d checked her out more than a few times.
More than a lot of times.
She was gorgeous, with lush chestnut hair, hazel eyes, and a face that could start wars—high cheekbones and full lips. Not to mention she had a stunning body.
But none of that would matter without her brains.
The woman was bright and clever. Unafraid to jump into any conversation, discuss any topic, toss out any question. That was the biggest turn-on of all—the boldness of her mouth and mind.
Yet, for the last few months, the time had never seemed right to make a move—for many reasons. We were friends, we had a burgeoning business relationship, I’d been as busy as ten thousand beavers, and, well, the other one .
Did she or didn’t she? If she wasn’t on the same page in the desire department, I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable or awkward. So, I kept my eyes open for cues.
Of the crystal clear variety.
I hadn’t spotted any . . . yet.
Tonight, though, I had my Kate radar on high alert as I weaved through the crowds at Edge with my buddies.
Maybe they noticed I couldn’t take my eyes off the brunette.
“Do you need some pointers on finally going for it with Ms. Williams?” The asshole remark came from my closest friend, Finn. He was also my business partner and, evidently, a mind reader.
“How did you know what I asked for from Santa for Christmas?” I went with sarcasm, the only defense when a friend could see right through you.
Adam clapped my back as we headed toward the women. “Bro, I don’t even know if good old St. Nick has enough time on his hands to read that kind of sad letter.”
Finn met Adam’s eyes and nodded sympathetically. “It’s clearly up to us to help our sorry-ass friend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Gentlemen, has it ever occurred to you that the timing might simply not be right?”
Finn furrowed his brow and shot Adam another look. “Adam, has it ever occurred to you that Jake might be full of shit?”
Adam stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It has, in fact, occurred to me. Like, right now.” He stared at me. “Just ask her out, man.”
“You’re missing the point,” I said, because he was. There was no simple ask her out in this situation.
“No, you’re missing the opportunity,” he said, no sarcasm now.
His words gave me pause. Was I missing an opportunity?
But the conversation ended abruptly when we reached the women.
As we all caught up, I did my best to dismiss the peanut gallery’s—both the guys’ and my sister’s—unsolicited romantic advice. But that proved damn near impossible because my mind was on Kate. And I was in the mood to spend some time with her.
Perhaps I needed to follow some of that unsolicited advice this weekend.
Soon Nina and Adam hit the dance floor, and so did Finn and Lily. That left me and Kate.
I flashed her a grin. “What’s it going to be, Williams?
In the mood for a spin on the dance floor or a drink?
Or do you have a secret hankering to bet on the ponies?
” She smiled as I made my opening offer to assess her interest. But before she could answer, I held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I bet it’s the horses.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “You’d be wrong.” She glanced at the time on her phone. “I need to take off soon, since I have a meeting in the morning, but I can handle one round.”
And that didn’t bode well for my chances, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Door number two, then,” I said. We headed to the bar and ordered gin and tonics, and as we waited, I asked what she was up to after her meeting tomorrow. “Friday night, that is,” I added, since that was the time on her schedule I wanted to occupy.
“Depends on how much work I have to do over the weekend.”
I affected a shocked expression. “Work over the weekend? Say it isn’t so.”
“You’re one to talk. Aren’t you all work and no play lately?”
I lifted a finger. “ Was. I’m taking the weekend off, per my sister’s instructions. She made me promise I’d lay off the emails and contracts.”
“And, being a good younger brother, you’re listening to her words of wisdom?”
“But of course. And I think they should apply to you as well, Ms. Work All the Time. Make it a no-work weekend.”
“Since you’re doing it, I should do the same?”
“What a brilliant idea,” I said playfully, then I snapped my fingers like I’d just thought of a grand idea.
“How about you help me while away the next two days? Maybe some blackjack, or some glow-in-the-dark mini-golf. Hell, we could go to the movies.” None of those options really felt like what Kate would want, but the suggestions might give my Kate radar a baseline reading.
Besides, they were friendly options, and we were friends.
“Let me get this straight. You want me to go whack a ball, play some cards, or see a flick so you have something to do on your no-work weekend?”
I flashed her a huge grin. “Exactly.”
“Dare I ask the next thing?”
“What’s in it for you?” I supplied.
Laughing, she nodded. “Yes, since you seem to be lining me up to be your Sunday Funday plus-one.”
“Why, I thought you’d never ask. One, it’s on me. And two, I’m an excellent way to spend the weekend.” If I kept the invitation light and easy, I’d be good. I wouldn’t be pushing her in ways that might make her uncomfortable.
Laughing, she shook her head. “You’re too much.”
With an indignant huff, I answered, “Fine, we can do dinner too.”
She knitted her brow, going serious in a second. “Like a date?”
I had no clue how to read her tone. None whatsoever. Was she asking about a date because she wanted the same? Or because she wanted to know enough to turn one down?
My radar was silent, so I stayed on the same path. “No. Like dinner. They serve food. You eat. It’s good.”
She stroked her chin. “Hmm. Food can, in fact, be good.”
“See? Now you’re getting the hang of hanging with me. I’ll make sure you’re well-fed.”
“What more could a girl ask for?” Her expression shifted to focused, professional. “Seriously, though, it depends on how things go tomorrow. My schedule might be crazy busy, but if it’s not, it would be fun to see you this weekend.”
See you this weekend.
The radar beeped.
Faster. Louder.
Because those four words sounded like an opportunity of the golden variety.
We clinked glasses and toasted to friendship, as was our custom.
It fit. We were indeed friendly.
But tonight, I was feeling frisky, too, and with the see you this weekend in my crosshairs, I needed to take a shot. Maybe with a bet.
As I knocked back a swallow of my drink, I glanced at the dance floor. A woman in black leather sidled up against a man with sleeves of ink on both arms. They didn’t touch, but they danced at each other. Yes, that was a perfect entrée, and I was going to use it.
“I bet they’re grinding in thirty seconds,” I said to Kate. She was a cat with catnip, unable to resist getting cozy with a wager.
She arched a playful brow. “You’re only betting because you lost the last one.”
“Please. You lost the checking-out-my-ass bet. Just admit it, Kate,” I teased, shooting her a grin.
She shook her head exaggeratedly, like she was holding in a smile. “Nope. I was not thinking of your butt.”
I scoffed, looking at my watch then at the couple. They were closer now, legs touching as they moved. They were easy to read. “Also, fifteen more seconds till the grind begins. That’s my bet, and I’m sticking to it. You going in?”
She laughed, a happy, buoyant sound that I dug. “It’ll take forty-five seconds.”
“That’s your prediction?”
She crossed her arms, like she was throwing down the gauntlet. “That’s my guarantee.”
I whistled my appreciation at her boldness. “You’re confident. How can you tell?”
“From watching them,” she said, a little coy, a little flirty.
She took a sip of her drink, then stared at the dance floor as the action unfolded. As if on cue, the woman in leather spun around, and the inked man yanked her to him, tugging her ass against his pelvis.
Forty-five seconds. On the dot.
“Impressive,” I said, with a low whistle.
“It’s my party trick,” she said, like she was divulging a secret. And maybe she was.
I marinated on that bit of intel as I knocked back more of my drink. “Makes sense, since you’re the Goddess of Observation.”
Her gaze swung to me, her eyes blazing with curiosity. “Is that what they call me?”
She seemed intrigued, maybe pleased that someone was seeing her, reading her. “That’s what you are,” I said, sensing a chance. “You like to watch. To see what everyone is up to. In fact, maybe we should bet again.”
She didn’t answer right away. She lifted her drink, took a swallow, and set it down. “But you need to pay up first, mister, since I won the last one with my forty-five second prediction.” A little sassy, she held out her hand like she was waiting for money.
I chided her, wagging a finger. “But we didn’t bet for anything. We need stakes if you’re trying to make me go broke, woman.”
She tilted her head and surveyed the dance floor, her eyes stopping in the direction of a tiny blonde in a white dress making eyes at a hipster in skinny jeans a few feet from her.
“Them,” Kate said, with a subtle point of her finger.
“I bet in one minute he’ll have an arm around her waist, his hand on her ass. If it takes longer, I lose.”
“And what are the stakes?”
“I have some ideas.” She licked her lips, and as she did, a flash of heat crossed her hazel eyes.
That flash of heat sure as hell sent my radar pinging. That heat wasn’t hard to read whatsoever. I moved closer. “Same here. And I know what we need to bet for.”
“Tell me,” she said, a little breathless.
I had an idea. A dirty, delicious idea. So much better than a spa weekend. “You want to know the stakes? You sure you’re ready for them?”
“I’m sure.” The two words were a challenge, and the way she returned my stare made it clear she wasn’t backing down.
I sure as hell wasn’t either.
Not tonight.
Not after my sister’s advice. Not after the guys’ comments. And definitely not after the earlier texts with Kate.
Flirty, innuendo-laced texts.
Texts that had made the radar listen in the first place.
Now it was shouting in my head.
And I knew what it was saying.
Opportunity.
I stared at Kate’s lush, full lips. I took my time, lifted my glass, downed the rest of the drink, then set it on the counter. Stepping into her space, I swept a lock of her hair off her shoulder.
She trembled ever so briefly then tried to play off her reaction, to brush some unseen lint off her shirt.
Her shirt was pristine.
I went for it.
Because this was the opportunity.
And I wanted to let her know I took her to bed in my dirty dreams.
Did she do the same with me in hers? I’d been dying to know for months.
Only one way to find out.
Honesty.
“One kiss.” It came out like a command.
Hell, maybe it was.
She stared at me, wide-eyed. She didn’t look down, didn’t back away. Simply held her chin high. “Are you truly betting a kiss?”
“Yes. I am.” I clicked the stopwatch on my phone, counting the seconds. The room thrummed with music, bodies pulsing together, lips pressed, hips locked. The music seemed to vibrate in me too. My bones hummed as I pictured tasting her mouth for the first time. “Does that surprise you?”
“I suppose it doesn’t,” she said softly, but still loud enough for me to hear.
I inched closer, catching a faint hint of her scent, like honey and almonds. “So, are you taking the bet, Williams?”
Her lips parted as she seemed to breathe in the night, the possibilities.
We had to be one of her possibilities.
Her tongue darted out briefly, a sign that maybe she was willing to take the bet.
But when she didn’t say anything more, I gave her an out. “Or we can just pretend the bet never happened.”
“Do you think I want to pretend it never happened?”
“You tell me,” I said. This time I needed her to make the move. I had to know she wanted this—wanted me.
I held up my phone. The stopwatch on it ticked past one minute. The time she’d predicted it’d take for the couple to be tangled up together.
We both checked them out at the same time. The woman in white wasn’t dancing with the guy.
Kate looked back at me and grinned.
Wickedly.
“Oops. It’s been more than a minute,” she said, lifting her chin. An offering. “Too bad I lost.”
Her gaze darted around the club, and when she spotted a dark corner away from the dance floor, she led the way there.
I didn’t need any more confirmation than that.
But I got it when she turned around, leaned against the wall, and locked her eyes with mine.
She was waiting for a kiss.
And she’d wanted to lose.