CHAPTER TWO
CAYLEE
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Jake is as gorgeous today as he was the night, six months ago, that I met him in a local LA bar.
Rugged, sparkling light-blue eyes, with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face which gives him a tough guy look.
I like that.
I don’t like pretty boys.
I didn’t know he was a US Marshal when we met, but given he was drinking at Smudge, a bar known to be frequented by cops and other law enforcement officers, I wasn’t surprised when he told me.
I suppose it was a little cliché to go there, given my brother was an Army Ranger, but, yes, my friend Kathy and I were there for the men in uniform and live music.
Glancing up a good foot and a half, and after not seeing him for months, I feel myself melting into those eyes of his and don’t know what to say.
Do I want him to explain?
Is there anything to explain? Jake never promised me anything. It was barely a real relationship.
What can I expect after taking him home the night we met? You’d think at twenty-nine, wanting to meet the one, I’d have been a little more strategic, but oh no, I’d grinned as he tried out some terrible pickup lines, then agreed to dance with him.
Which he was also terrible at.
But there was something about him, the way he stood closer than appropriate in a protective manner, glared at other men as if I belonged to him already, and the feel of his hand in the small of my back.
I wanted to close my eyes and melt into his large, muscular frame and let him do lots of bad things. I wanted him to show me that he was a bad boy.
He clearly had the same idea.
Jake escorted me home, and Kathy took off with a beat cop named Tom.
I teased Jake about whether he was trustworthy, and when he walked me to my front door, he held up his hands cheekily and said, “Hey I can show you my badge. I won’t even kiss you if that’s what you want.”
“Well, that would be disappointing,” I’d replied, propping out my hips and letting my eyes drift across his bulky chest.
That had been all it took.
Before I could think another thought, Jake’s fingers slid around the back of my neck and through my hair. His lips landed on mine as I sucked in a breath, and then US Deputy Jake Murphy kissed me like no man ever had.
Or has since.
I unlocked the door, and we kissed all the way upstairs to my bedroom. Clothes went flying, he sucked my nipples just the right way, and then I heard the snap of his condom.
The moment he slid inside, our eyes locked and we both moaned.
It was fast and frantic.
And perfect.
We made use of a second condom before I drifted dreamily off to sleep. I woke as he slid out of my bed.
“My number is in your phone.” Jake cupped my face and kissed me like we hadn’t had just a one-night stand. “Call me.”
“Okay.” I yawned and rolled over, feeling completely sated and happy.
The next morning, I had decided he was the man of my dreams, changed my mind three times, and then questioned why he hadn’t stayed all night.
But the delicious aches on my body reminded me that regardless, he was an amazing lover and had given me his phone number.
So...yes, I had wanted to see him again.
I messaged.
After his shift, he knocked on my door. I opened it, and he stepped in, grabbed my face and kissed me like I was the only woman he would ever crave. Lifting into his arms, I giggled as he carried me upstairs.
“God, you smell delicious,” he rasped, cupping one of my breasts.
Jake was in uniform, and my ovaries were doing the tango. I didn’t get to see much of it as he tore it off and ordered my nightie off!
That was how our relationship started and how it continued.
We never dated.
No movies. No dinners. No holidays in Mexico or meeting each other’s families.
I work as a dental assistant, so often our schedules clashed. When we saw each other, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I wasn’t unhappy, but I was aware it wasn’t heading in the direction of what I wanted.
A marriage.
A family.
I’d let it happen for so long that backtracking seemed uncomfortable. Especially as Jake never stayed over.
One night, after a few months, I asked Jake if he was married or had kids.
“No,” he replied, running his fingers over each nipple, which was very distracting. “Are you?”
I laughed. “Yes, they’re hiding in the closet waiting for you to leave.”
I didn’t want to be that girl—the one who had to ask him to say but there was a chance he thought I wanted him to leave.
My overactive mind kept telling me if he really liked me, he would ask. He would want to stay.
Or take me to his house.
Neither happened.
My thirtieth birthday was looming, and my friends were all getting married and having babies.
Hell, Savannah was just a few months from having hers.
It was all over social media now that the filming of her latest movie was finished and the cat was out of the bag.
So, I was feeling the pressure, and my body clock was ticking louder and louder.
I liked this man.
Perhaps we would arrive at the same destination, just in our own time.
What I tried to ignore throughout the three months we were together were the late-night calls. The texts. The ones he took in the hallway and never explained, murmuring something about the confidential nature of his work. Or adhering to it with a point of his finger and a look.
On occasion that was true.
I was used to Cole being zip-lipped about things in his career, so I tried not to read into it.
I finally concluded there must be other women, and one night I heard one. Eventually I started to be able to tell the difference just by the way his body tensed and the tone in his voice.
I’m ashamed it took me three months, but it did, and I finally acknowledged that we were nothing more than fuck buddies.
The night I heard that woman again, I snapped.
Jake never said I was wrong. He simply left, and our relationship was over.
So, now I learn he’s working with Cole at BHS and he’s here at Trina’s wedding.
And he wants to explain.
He’s had three months to explain...three months during which I’d wished and hoped and imagined so many things. Hope is a dangerous thing. It blinds you to reality as you cling to a fantasy that doesn’t exist.
I imagined Jake walking down the street holding my hand.
I imagined Jake sitting at my parents’ dinner table at Thanksgiving.
I imagined Jake telling me he loved me as we ice skate in Central Park at Christmas. Or while walking along Waikiki Beach, where he dropped to his knees and proposed.
Stupid.
I knew the only memories I’d have were of his lovely body climbing over me, his big shoulders crowding me and rough jaw scratching me when he kissed me...everywhere.
It was erotic and wonderful.
My body still craves him as he stands before me in his dark suit and polished shoes, a dusting of growth on his jawline.
Those blue eyes lock with mine, demanding an answer, but he knows what it is.
No.
Absolutely not.
I shake my head. “You’ve had months to explain, Jake.”
I glance behind him, and spot Cole looking ready to cause trouble. Lifting my eyes back to his, I give him a sad smile, one full of disappointment. “Goodbye, Jake.”
I grab my flute off the bar, then slip away.