Chapter 7
Everly
“You want me to work for you?” I stammer. I was not expecting this.
“I need the help. You’d be perfect for the job. It’s a win for both of us.” He shrugs, his expression serious, and I am reminded of how sexy he looks when he’s being all stern.
“No.”
There is no way I could work in the same office as Jake every day—that idea has disaster written all over it. I am barely surviving the proximity to him now, standing next to him on this sidewalk. I’m hanging on by a thread.
He looks better than ever, wearing jeans that fit him perfectly and a short sleeve black T-shirt that showcases his corded arms. For the first time I notice the tattoo under his right sleeve. I wonder how many more I would find if he took off his clothes. I’d like to trace every inch of his body searching for them.
Just the thought causes my heart rate to dip in my chest. In my mind, I tour his six-foot-something body, from his ridiculously handsome face to the abdominal muscles I suspect are under that shirt. And then… further south.
I’ve spent almost 10 years with a man who wore Gucci loafers and always had a perfect side part. The thoughts I have about Jake, with his hair that always looks perfectly tousled, his muscular body, tattoos, and the dark scruff on his jaw, are downright obscene.
It makes me wonder what he’s like in bed. Jake seems like the type of guy who would call me a good girl after ordering me to my knees with my hair wrapped around his fist.
And why does that turn me on so much?
“Everly?” Jake asks, snapping me out of my dirty thoughts. “Just hear me out and then I’ll drop the subject, okay? If you took the job, you’d be helping me more than I’m helping you. Besides, how much longer do you think you can work those night shifts?”
That’s a good question. Most days it feels like I’m burning the candle at both ends. “I’ll figure that out when it happens.”
He nods but keeps to his promise not to push it. We continue walking, streetlights glowing overhead. I can tell Jake has something on his mind. I tip my chin up to look at him. “I do appreciate the offer, you know. Tell me about what you do.”
“I own a contracting company. We renovate and build houses.”
“So, I was right!” I say, immediately regretting the words as soon as they fall from my lips.
“Right about what?” His eyes float down to my mouth briefly, and I chastise my silly heart for dipping in my chest.
“Oh, I just had a feeling you worked with your hands.” My cheeks burn with heat, but I’m not sure if it’s due to embarrassment or the fact that Jake is standing so close to me.
“Oh, I can definitely work with my hands,” he says, and I can hear the smirk he must have on his face. There’s no way I am going to risk looking at him to confirm, though. I might just spontaneously combust.
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“I can be patient,” he says, and something about the way he says it makes me risk a glance at him next to me. We hold eye contact for a beat, and then he winks, giving me a lopsided smile.
There’s that zap—that electrical current that always seems to be there between us. My heart hammers. It feels like I may never recover from that smile.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to focus on anything but Jake, but the closer we get to my apartment, the more my nerves kick up. What will Jake do when we arrive at my doorstep? Will he try something, or will he stick to our pact of just being friends?
I’m not even sure what I want him to do, but I can hear my dad’s words. You deserve love. You deserve a second chance.
I try to remember all the reasons that hooking up with Jake would be a bad idea. He’s too young. It’s not that he lacks maturity, it’s that he should be dating someone closer to his age. A girl who isn’t divorced, who doesn’t have a child with a sociopath. I wouldn’t wish my baggage on anyone.
We arrive at my apartment building, and Jake follows me down the boxwood-lined path to the front door, then inside to the elevator and up to the second floor. I think about protesting, about insisting he doesn’t need to escort me all the way, but in truth I want a few more minutes with him.
By the time we stop in front of my apartment door, I’m buzzing with nervous energy. I turn to face Jake, my heart pumping in my chest as he flashes me that boyish grin. But then his expression turns more serious.
“I’m glad you let me walk you home,” he says, handing me my bag.
“Thank you for keeping me company.”
I reach in my bag for my keys, hyper-aware of the sudden silence between us. Our eyes meet and his immediately darken, sending what feels like a million tiny butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
The look in his eyes says he wants to kiss me.
Do I want him to kiss me?
I am so into him, even though I keep telling myself I shouldn’t be. The man makes me feel so good, and despite everything, I find myself hoping he does kiss me.
We’re standing so close that I can feel an electricity buzzing between us. His eyes are on me, flashing with intensity. There’s a heavy pause as I lock eyes with him, my heart pounding. It feels like he can see right into my soul. Like he knows exactly how I want him to touch me… and where.
My cheeks heat, and I wonder if he can see it in the dimly lit hallway. Anticipation hangs in the air between us.
Then suddenly the moment passes. Jake runs his hand through his dark hair, looking down at the floor, breaking the spell. “Well, good night, Everly. If you change your mind on the job, it’s yours.”
I plunge back to reality, frustrated with myself for getting my hopes up when kissing Jake is the last thing that should be on my mind right now. This would be so much easier if Jake wasn’t so damn hot.
Your daughter is your focus, Everly.
Tell that to my stupid sex drive.
“Don’t forget my number, okay?” Jake says with a smile.
“I won’t,” I tell him.
“Use it then. So you don’t give me a complex.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. How could a man that looks like that have a complex over a girl like me? None of it makes sense.
Jake’s eyes are still on me, and my heart is in my throat when he takes a small step towards me, closing the distance between us. His strong arms wrap around me, and he pulls me close. He feels so good. We fit together perfectly.
He smells like pine and fresh laundry, and I breathe in the scent, allowing myself to enjoy the moment. Jake is warm and solid, and the weight of his hands on my lower back evokes an overpowering sensation of need and want. Not to mention the tingle between my legs that I haven’t felt in years. It has been so long since I’ve been held like this by a man who makes me feel safe and respected, so I savor the feeling for as long as I can.
We finally break apart, and my eyes search his, trying to gauge whether he feels the same way I do. We’re still so excruciatingly close to one another that I can feel the heat of his skin on mine.
I swallow hard.
“You need to get some sleep. I should go,” Jake says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. I can see the apprehension in his eyes, and as much as I don’t want him to go, I know he should.
“Good night, Jake.”
Working with Jake has mistake written all over it. Tonight proved that being around Jake Matthews is just too tempting. Frustrated, I fumble with my keys in the lock, then finally push the door open, feeling Jake’s eyes still on me the entire time.
Resisting the urge to look back, I close the door behind me and then press my back against it, trying to fight off the rush of frustration I feel. It’s partly due to getting a perfect job offer I know I can’t accept, but also the fact that Jake didn’t even try to kiss me. Did he not want to? Or was he just trying to stick to our promise of friendship and nothing more?
I shake my head, surprised at how quickly I am warming up to being much more than friends with Jake. That wasn’t part of the plan.