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Melt With You (Fire and Icing) by Evans, Jessie (5)

Chapter Five

 

Jake crossed his arms and stood motionless near the entrance to the Summerville Holiday Fair, determined not to give any outward sign of the storm brewing within him.

He refused to show weakness or to let anyone see how much he was dreading the evening ahead of him. He’d had an easy out, but like a stubborn ass, he’d refused to take it, and now, he would have to suffer the consequences with a stiff upper lip.

Cutting off your nose to spite your face. Real smart, Hansen.

Jake sighed. It was true. He was an idiot. He should have taken Naomi up on her offer to cancel. If he had, he’d be at home relaxing and watching the game with a plate of buffalo wings, instead of standing on a street corner trying to keep a poker face while his stomach digested his heart.

But this afternoon, when Naomi had been standing there in front of him, her blue eyes filled with compassion and her concern for him so clear in her expression, something inside of him had rebelled. He refused to accept anything from Naomi, even her compassion. He didn’t want her to pity him. He didn’t want her to worry about him. He didn’t want her to feel anything for him except complete aversion.

In fact, he wanted Naomi Whitehouse so damned uncomfortable that she would reconsider her plans to stay in Summerville. He wanted to send her running back to Miami or London or Paris or wherever she’d called home before she stormed back into his life and disrupted his even-keeled existence.

Until she’d shown up, Jake had been doing just fine. Not great, but not bad, either. He’d had a routine, a close circle of friends, and a certain rhythm to his days. But Naomi’s arrival had shot his careful balance all to hell. Now, he was grumpy at work, unsettled at home, and downright miserable whenever he was within ten feet of Naomi.

He couldn’t deny the reaction he had to the woman. She still did things to him—crazy, unexpected things. If someone had told him yesterday that less than twenty-four hours after the auction he’d want to pull Naomi in for a hug, to tell her to relax and stop worrying about saying the right thing when he knew her heart was in the right place, he would have laughed in their face.

But when Naomi had started babbling outside the fire station, a part of Jake had wanted to do exactly that, to put her at ease. Another, more dangerous part, had wanted to cup her face in his hand, let his thumb brush over her bottom lip and find out if it was still the softest thing he’d ever touched.

Once, Jake had been addicted to those lips. One brush of Naomi’s mouth against his had been enough to make his blood rush, his head light up and the entire world feel full of wild, wonderful possibilities. Naomi didn’t just kiss with her lips; she kissed with her soul. Her kisses took him to places he could never have imagined on his own, creating worlds where nothing existed but the two of them, her touch, and the promises she made every time her body moved against his.

But her promises had been lies.

Naomi Whitehouse had never loved him the way he’d loved her. If she had, she couldn’t have left the way she did, or spent the next fifteen years flitting from one man to the next like she was sampling ice cream and determined to try every flavor.

Naomi was thirty-three years old, and to Jake’s knowledge had never even come close to settling down. He believed people could grow and change, but Naomi clearly hadn’t. She was still the same careless girl she’d been back then, and he had zero interest in being her friend.

Because you can’t be her friend, not when you still want her as much as you ever did. Maybe even more.

Jake would have liked to deny it—to tell his inner voice to shut up and keep its opinions to itself—but at that moment, Naomi appeared around the corner. She wore a short black coat over a red dress, and black boots that skimmed the bottom of her kneecaps. As she moved down the sidewalk toward the entrance to the park, the last of the pale winter sunlight caught the honey-colored streaks in her hair, surrounding her in a warm glow that made her blue eyes shine and her red lips look so tempting Jake couldn’t tear his eyes away from them.

She was…breathtaking. Just looking at her was enough to make Jake’s entire body go warm and an ache fist in his chest. It was the same ache from this afternoon, that longing to have Naomi pressed against him so tight he lost track of where she ended and he began.

When she stopped a few feet away, looking up at him with a smile, Jake wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hug her hello. Instead, he gave a terse nod, and turned toward the entrance without saying a word.

He wouldn’t succumb to temptation, not tonight or any night.

“Hello to you, too,” Naomi said in an upbeat voice, obviously determined to ignore his cool reception. “Here, let me pay for the tickets.” She laid her hand on top of his, stopping him as he reached for his wallet.

“I’ve got it,” he said, his voice as flat as it had been this afternoon, hopefully giving Naomi no clue how aware he was that they were touching for the first time in fifteen years. No clue that even the brush of her fingertips was enough to make his heart beat faster.

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “It’s for charity. Besides, you’re my date. The rules say I pay.”

Before he could offer further protest, Naomi slipped around him, stepped up to the ticket booth, and began quizzing the attendant about the various packages.

Beyond the booth, kids swarmed over colorful playground equipment as couples strolled among the dozens of attractions that had been set up all over the park. There were games, exhibits, local artists and craftsmen selling their wares, and best of all—a cluster of food tents with delicious smells emanating from them. Jake spotted a teenage boy gnawing on a roasted ear of corn, and his mouth immediately began to water.

As Naomi accepted an obscenely large roll of tickets from the cashier—it would take them hours to play that many games—Jake’s stomach growled.

Naomi smiled at him over her shoulder. “So, food first, I guess?” she asked with a laugh.

Jake shrugged. “I could eat.” He fought the urge to return her smile. Naomi had always had an infectious grin, but he had been vaccinated against it. He was immune to her charms and refused to respond to her with anything but the civility they’d agreed upon.

“Great!” she said, her enthusiasm not dampening. “Because I’m starving. I only had cookies for lunch, and they are long gone. So what do you think?”

She paused, studying the food vendor signs on the fence surrounding the soccer field where the refreshment tents had been set up. “The southern girl in me says giant turkey leg and cheddar mashed potatoes, but my inner gourmet is curious about the Thai food. When did Summerville get a Thai restaurant?”

Jake shrugged. “Not sure.”

“Have you ever been there?” Naomi pressed in that same relentlessly perky voice.

“Nope,” he said, determined not to be drawn in.

He would eat whatever Naomi decided they should eat; he would not make this fun for her by spending half an hour discussing food options. He knew how much she loved things like that, and he would not contribute to her enjoyment.

“Okay.” Naomi started walking, forgoing the main path to cut through the grass near the fence, taking the shortest route to the entrance to the soccer field. “Then what are you in the mood for?”

“Don’t care,” Jake said, falling in behind her.

“You don’t care,” Naomi repeated, irritation creeping into her tone. “Since when do you not care what you eat?”

“Since right now. I’m just along for the ride, Whitehouse,” Jake said. “This is your show.”

She stopped, turning to face him beside evergreen shrubs taller than both of them. The shrubs blocked Jake’s view of the picnic tables, which was good. If Jake couldn’t see his friends and neighbors, they couldn’t see him. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of people staring at him while he was on this ridiculous date, though he knew that would be hard to avoid. Naomi moving back to town was the most exciting thing that had happened in Summerville since two guys opened a tattoo parlor on Main Street.

“What does that mean?” Naomi asked, propping her hands on her hips. “My show?”

“That means you’re calling the shots.” Jake shrugged. “Pick something and I’ll eat it.”

“What if I don’t want to pick something?” she asked.

Jake shrugged again. “Then we don’t have to eat. Whatever you want.”

“I want you to stop shrugging,” Naomi said with an exasperated sigh. “I thought we were going to be civil.”

“I am being civil.”

“No you’re not. You’re being a jerk.”

Jake forced a smile. “I’m not being a jerk. I’m just not giving you what you want.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what is that?”

Jake rolled his eyes and turned to gaze across the soccer field, wishing he were anywhere but here, with anyone but Naomi Whitehouse.

“I’m serious,” Naomi said, tugging on his sleeve. “What do you think I want?”

Jake glanced down at her, willing himself not to notice how pretty she looked with the evening breeze blowing her hair around her shoulders, and the chilly air flushing her cheeks pink.

“You want to write the script,” Jake said. “Like always.”

Naomi shook her head. “That’s not true. All I want is—”

“All you want is to breeze back into town and be charming and determined and spunky until you convince me to be your friend,” he said, taking satisfaction in the little “o” of surprise her mouth made. “And you’re using these dates to force me to stick around and put up with it.”

Naomi’s shoulders slumped. “Faith ratted me out.”

“Of course she did,” Jake said. “But I didn’t need Faith to tell me that you wouldn’t be satisfied with just making peace between us. You’re a people-pleaser, Naomi. You always have been. You want everyone to like you and be your friend.”

Naomi threw up her hands. “So? What’s wrong with that? And why can’t we be friends? I’m a good friend, Jake, I promise.”

“Because I’m not the same person I used to be,” Jake said, crossing his arms at his chest. “And I don’t need any more friends.”

“Well, maybe I’m not the same person I used to be either,” she said, voice rising, making Jake hope no one was listening on the other side of the bushes. He and Naomi were far enough from the food tents on the soccer field not to be overheard, but some of the picnic tables were only a dozen feet away.

“Did you ever think of that?” Naomi continued. “Did you ever think that maybe I’ve changed, too?”

Jake shook his head. “From what I can see, you’re exactly the same—impressed with yourself, and expecting everyone else to agree with you.”

“Wow.” Naomi shook her head slowly back and forth. “I don’t remember you being so mean.”

“And I don’t remember you being interested in the kind of life a small town had to offer.”

“I wasn’t,” she said, wrapping her coat across her chest and crossing her arms tight. “But then everything in my life fell apart, and I realized there was only one place I wanted to be, one place that felt safe and right.” She took a breath and swallowed before lifting her stubborn chin into the air. “And that’s here in Summerville. This is my home and I’m not leaving, so you might as well get used to it.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Why now, after all these years?”

“Because this is a good town,” Naomi said, a pleading note creeping into her tone. “A good town full of good people, and there aren’t as many of those in the world as you might think. This is a special place, and it’s where I want to start my family.”

Jake’s eyebrows lifted. A family…

Was Naomi with someone? Was this mystery guy planning to move to Summerville, too? Were they hoping to get pregnant—was she already pregnant with some Hollywood pretty boy’s baby?

The thought made Jake’s scowl deepen. He didn’t like the thought of Naomi having some famous creep’s baby. He didn’t like it all.

“I’m already signed up with an adoption agency,” Naomi continued, triggering a flash of relief Jake didn’t want to examine too closely. “By this time next year, I’m hoping to be a mom and I want to raise my son or daughter near my family, and surrounded by other people I respect.”

She stepped closer, pinning him with that soulful look that had once made Jake feel safe telling her things he’d never told anyone else. “People like you,” she continued in a softer voice. “Because I know there is still a wonderful person inside this big grouch standing in front of me.”

Jake sighed. “I’m not a grouch.”

“Please,” Naomi said with a gentle smile. “You’re so grouchy Oscar would call you his homeboy.”

Jake rolled his eyes.

“You’re so grouchy if they made a movie about you they would call it Grouch-zilla,” Naomi continued, stepping even closer, tapping her finger to the center of his chest. “You’re so grouchy, that if you were a leprechaun your name would be Snarly McGrouchyPot the Third.”

“McGrouchyPot,” Jake repeated with a raised brow.

“McGrouchyPot the Third,” she corrected with a straight face. “Knight of the Cranky Britches.”

Jake fought the smile pulling at his lips and lost.

“There it is,” Naomi said with a laugh. “I’ve missed your smile.”

Her sweet, wistful voice summoned a wave of longing inside of him so fierce and unexpected it took Jake’s breath away. He could play it tough all he wanted, but deep down, he wanted to smile at Naomi. He wanted to laugh at her jokes and play carnival games until their throwing arms were sore and he really, really wanted to see if her hand still fit perfectly in his own.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t relax and let her in. If he did, he’d be defenseless against her. She was like that fifth beer on Saturday night or the third donut on Sunday morning—irresistible, but bad for him.

So, so bad.

“I have to go,” he said, taking a step back.

“Wait.” Naomi caught his hand and held tight. “I’m sorry. There’s no pressure to smile. Please, just…let’s try to enjoy the night. And the other nights, too, and if by the end of the last date you still don’t want to be friends, I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, you won’t,” Jake said, the muscle in his jaw leaping as Naomi threaded her fingers through his.

“I will, I promise,” she said, eyes wide in her heart-shaped face, red lips parted in a silent invitation Jake wasn’t even sure she knew she was making.

But Jake got it loud and clear, and he knew if he stuck around much longer he was going to take Naomi up on that invitation.

He was going to pull her into his arms and claim her mouth with his own. He was going to cup her sweet ass—his favorite ass, the one that danced through his dreams when he went to bed aching and alone—in his palms and pull her up his body until her feet dangled. Then he was going to kiss her until her toes curled.

And chances were they wouldn’t stop there. Chances were they’d end up kissing in his truck, then on his couch, then in his bed, and before he could say “my soul is willing, but my flesh is weak,” Jake would be showing her all the things he’d learned in the fifteen years since she’d left, letting his lips explore every inch of her flushed skin until she begged him to push inside her.

The last time he’d been with Naomi, he hadn’t been much more than a boy. Now, he was a man, with a man’s experience and a man’s self-control. It had been hot between them before, but Jake knew now it would be even hotter. He would be able to make her come in ways he could only have imagined at eighteen, to drive her slowly, wickedly out of her mind with wanting him before they came together. Before he felt her body grip him tight and her nails dig into his back as they reached that place where there was nothing but Naomi and Jake, nothing but their breath coming fast and their hearts beating faster and all the love they felt for each other lighting up the world, making it something better and more beautiful than it had been before.

God, he’d loved her. So much.

The memory of it was so sweet it made his heart ache, and so sad it was hard to pull in his next breath because that was all in the past, too far gone for it to ever be resurrected. He couldn’t be Naomi’s lover, and he sure as hell couldn’t be her friend. Right now, he couldn’t even stand within a foot of his former flame, not without losing the last of his self-control.

“I have to go,” he said, throat so tight the words emerged as a harsh whisper. “Please just…let me leave.”

Naomi’s eyes went wide, but she said nothing as Jake turned and started back toward the entrance. She let him go, and he did his best to keep his pace slow and even. He might be running away, but he would do it at a walk, keeping his exterior calm and in control even if—thanks to Naomi—his insides were a complete wreck.

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