Chapter Ten
Jake Wright. Here. In the city. In the apartment. Right now. No pinstripes. No restaurant teeming with people. No safety zone of any kind. Sure, since coming home, she’d committed to embracing the new Kate, the super-smooth Cosmo girl who was through chasing love, who embraced her freedom. But now he was here. Kissing her up against the windows in his torn-up kitchen.
Her head was spinning. She thought she’d be prepared after six weeks without seeing him or touching him. Six weeks of not allowing thoughts of him into her heart, and now he was here, kissing her senseless, making her forget thinking, making her forget time, or rather, making her feel lost in it.
Lost in him.
His lips moved across hers, nipping, swirling, indulging in her depths, and her mouth returned his exploration with a kind of unexpected desperation. Like she never wanted him to stop.
Clinging to the collar of his linen shirt, she breathed him in. His deep musk and ocean air scent made her head spin. How could he smell so unbelievably good? In the middle of a New York heat wave. He should smell like Chinese food and scorched blacktop. Instead, his scent seduced her with island memories as hot and seductive as the midnight city air.
Warm lips lingered as he broke the kiss. Capable hands framed her face. Expressive blue eyes smiled down at her, and all of a sudden, she felt like she’d been kicked in the solar plexus. What happened to cute, sexy Jake? Where were the glasses? The chinos? The scruff? Looking up at him with his jaw clean-shaven, his dark hair neatly trimmed, those blue eyes hypnotic without the Costellos, damn, he was gorgeous. Not just cute. Not just sexy. Hot. Heart-stoppingly, stupidly hot in a way that made it hard to breathe. A way that caused her toes to tingle and made the arches of her feet rise in anticipation of kissing him. The kind of hot that meant maxed out credit cards and half-eaten boxes of doughnuts. A self-actualized woman didn’t fall for that kind of gorgeous. So why now, after all these weeks, did she want to grab that open collar, drag him into the kitchen and ravish every inch of him? Dammit.
She closed her eyes and counted to a cleansing seven. Boundaries. She needed boundaries. Not him showing up without any warning, all cleaned up and dangerously hot in that way that had always brought her nothing but trouble. She was re-focused on her life and career. No more complicated, misguided relationships. Cosmo was on the line.
She released her grip on his collar and took a step back. Messing everything up for a guy, who for some unfathomable reason filled her every waking thought, was a mistake. Time to shove this lust-inducing genie deep into his bottle. “You need to leave.”
“Leave?” An indulgent smile broke across his face. “Kate, I just stepped off a midnight flight. What I need is to crash in my King-sized bed.”
King-sized bed. Not only did he look more seductive; he sounded more seductive, too, his deep, panty-melting voice murmuring about midnight needs and beds large enough to spend a day in. A blush crept across her cheeks. “I don’t care what time it is. You can’t stroll in here and kiss me in the middle of your kitchen.”
“Stroll in here? This is my apartment.” He gave her a once-over. “What are you wearing, anyway?”
She needed to stay cool and not hyperventilate. “Maybe you’ve not noticed yet, but it’s August here in Manhattan, the AC in your apartment is busted, and it’s stifling. Why else would I be standing in your kitchen, wearing…”
“Nothing but a tool belt?” he asked with a devilish twinkle in his eyes.
A low sound vibrated in the back of her throat as she stalked past him into the living room. “I have shorts on.”
He followed behind her. “Those hardly qualify.”
Kate spun around. “You need to go.” She yanked her T-shirt from the iron banister, pulled the oversized tee over her head, and tried to keep it together. “Go grab some coffee, or a sandwich, check out the self-help section at The Strand, whatever lifts your sails, but I need two more hours to rip up the last of the warped wood and install your new floor.
He shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“And you’re not supposed to be here.” She shoved her feet into a pair of rhinestone studded flip flops. “Why are you here?” she asked, noting how he took in the logo emblazoned across her yellow tee. BELL CONSTRUCTION. STEEL ERECTION SPECIALISTS. She cocked an eyebrow and dared him to say a word.
He scrubbed his face with both hands. “I’m here to assess the damage and oversee repairs on the apartment.”
“Right.” She wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and yanked open the front door.
He took a step toward the door. “Where are you going?”
“Home. I need to rest, because tomorrow I plan to kill your sister.” She tilted her head to one side and stood in the open doorway. “Or maybe I’ll do that now. Murder her in her sleep.”
“Kate…honestly…this is my fault.” Hand still clutching the knob, she turned back slowly. He picked up her discarded tool belt and approached her casually, the way Matt Lauer might move toward a tiger on one of those wild animal segments for the Today show. He held out the belt. “Jane had no idea I was flying in early.”
“Eagle Scout’s honor?”
He held up his right hand. “Eagle Scout’s honor.”
She accepted the belt and wrapped it around her hips. “You’re really selling the condo?”
“I’m really selling the condo.”
“Just selling the condo?” A fully-loaded click of her tool belt punctuated her words. Not that she wanted him to be here for any other reason, but selling the condo, overseeing repairs, finalizing escrow—all could have been managed remotely. So why was he here? In New York? Her brows rose expectedly.
Jake dug his hands deep into his pockets. “Actually, I’m making good on the last of my contractual obligations to my agent, or rather, ex-agent.”
“Ex-agent.” Her words tumbled over his, her question only partially satisfied. “I see.”
He shrugged. “New manuscript.”
After a short pause, she cleared her throat and continued. “So, you’re writing again?”
“Seems I was inspired.”
“Inspired.” She forced herself to take a breath. “To write or—”
“Yes, to write and—”
“—to just walk in after six weeks and kiss me?”
Jake stood still, looking over at her as if he suspected there was a right answer to her question and a wrong one. “Maybe?”
“Maybe. Maybe?” To think she recalled her time with him on the island as a romantic, sexy dream. Maybe. She pulled her cell from the pocket of her tool belt and autodialed Manhattan Taxi. “I’m calling a cab.”
He opened his mouth, probably to try a different answer, but she waved him off and moved toward the door. “No need to explain.”
A hand tore through his hair. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. I didn’t mean to…”
“To kiss me? Yes, I got that.” Distracted by his hips in those low-slung shorts, she’d hesitated long enough that her hand was only now wrapping around the doorknob.
“Yellow Cab.” The dispatcher’s heavy New York accent broke through a Muzak version of “Ridin’ in My Car.”
Jake moved toward the door. “Stay. This is my fault. Let me make it up to you.”
“Hey, anybody there?” She pressed the phone against her chest to mute the cabbie’s obvious frustration.
She looked back at him, unexpected tears pricking at the back of her eyes. “I’ll be back in the morning to finish the floors.” She moved to go.
“Kate.” His fingers curled around the edge of the doorframe. “Please. Stay.”
A deep breath. Her body stilled. Her eyes shut against the pull of that one simple word. Please. In all her life, no man had ever asked her to stay the way he was asking. Please stay.
He reached out and caught her fingertips, and that simple touch made everything come rushing back. The kisses. The Scrabble. The cove.
Please stay. The words threw her heart into fast-forward, and she knew that if she looked in his eyes, her last hope for sanity would vanish. Crazy as it seemed, she had missed him. Missed this man she barely knew.
The dispatcher’s impatient voice broke through the line. “Honey, this is all peaches and cream, but is there any chance in hell you still need a cab?”
She took a deep breath and met Jake’s gaze. He smiled, less sure than she’d ever seen him. “No, I’m sorry…no cab.”
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his tone all New York protective.
Kate smiled into the phone. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“’Kay. That changes, you call me back,” he said before the line went dead.
Kate tucked the phone into her belt, looked over at Jake, and tried to ignore the way the linen shirt clung to his muscled shoulders. Damn his busted air-conditioning. She looked away. Like she’d told the cabbie. Nothing here she couldn’t handle.
“I’m sorry,” Jake said, stepping away, lowering both hands into his pockets. “I shouldn’t have walked in and kissed you that way.”
“Yeah. You shouldn’t have.”
Of course, neither should she.
A nervous feeling settled in her stomach. She closed the door with a quiet click, let go of the knob, and walked over to settle at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe this wasn’t how she had planned to see him again. But here she was. No navy suit. No busy restaurant.
On the bottom step of a spiral staircase.
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and tried to ignore her heart knocking up against her ribcage. “Good flight?”
He walked over and settled next to her. “Long flight.”
She glanced over at him from beneath her lashes and was struck by just how well he cleaned up. “Any martinis?”
He let out a low, sexy chuckle. “No martinis.”
“Too bad.” He was close enough to kiss again. Close enough to breathe him in. Made it tough to remember that he was just a sweet, sexy stop along the road to self-actualization. “So, what’s it about?” His brows rose in question. “The new book.”
“Oh, the new book.” He appeared startled, as if he’d never imagined telling her, and if not for the leak in the kitchen, he might never have told her. She may have glimpsed the cover through some bookstore window. Picked it up. Remembered their twenty-four hours. Funny to think about how it all worked. Fate. Karma. Luck.
He ran a hand over his jaw. “Let’s call it a modern take on adding romance to your life.”
Kate bit down on her lip. Talk about one hell of an exclusive. “Something along the lines of The Romance Factor?”
An easy shrug of his perfect shoulders. “More along the lines of…defining contemporary relationships.” He pushed up his sleeves. Wow, even his forearms are better than I remembered. “Never had a chance to thank you for not splashing me all over in Internet in my boxer briefs.”
Now was her chance. If she wanted to be taken seriously…well, here was her opportunity. “How do you feel about an exclusive?”
“Exclusive?”
“An interview for the book,” she raced ahead, “and before you shut me down, this would be a strictly promotional, non-personal, non-matchmaking article.”
“No bachelor-of-the-month, win-a-date-with-Jake Wright madness?”
“No bachelor-of-the-month, win-a-date-with-Jake Wright madness.”
He nodded slowly, deliberating. “But we’d spend time together.”
“Researching the article—yes.” Best to establish the rules up front. “All business, nothing personal.
He gave her an assessing look. “Three days. All business. Nothing personal.”
“Three days?”
“That’s how long I plan to be in New York.”
Kate held her breath and shoved aside her twinge of disappointment. If this was business, his timeline worked perfectly. An exclusive interview with the up-until-now reclusive Jake Wright was the definition of “the un-gettable get.” The kind that made careers. In three days, she could have a knockout piece that practically guaranteed her the job at Cosmo.
“Deal?” He bumped her shoulder with his, like a kid sitting on the curb with his neighborhood girlfriend, and extended his hand. Like it was simple.
But was a deal with an ex-lover ever simple? She’d had her heart broken so many times, but her career depended on this exclusive. Besides, she was the new Kate. Realigning her ch’i. Focusing on her life. Letting love find her.
And avoiding it in the wrong places.
“Deal—for Cosmo girls everywhere.” No time for second thoughts, she slipped her hand into his, and a familiar sense of kismet—non-martini infused kismet—rocked her insides. Clearly, her ch’i was already cracking. Even so, she’d gotten the exclusive. Now, if she was smart, she’d get the hell out of there before her biorhythms went totally out of whack and she felt inspired to kiss him again. She shoved her hand into her back pocket and turned to go. “We can start in the morning.”
“Whoa, wait a sec.” Jake caught her elbow. “In the morning?”
“In the morning.” Kate glanced at his hand, wondering when her elbow had become an erogenous zone. “I’ll be here at seven.”
“Kate, no. It’s already almost four-thirty. You’ll barely have time to get home before you have to turn right back around.”
“I’m not sure I see an alternative.”
“Sure you do. Stay here.”
Her gaze met his. “Not sure that’s such a good idea.”
He grinned. “Worried you can’t handle me?”
“I’m sure I can.” Except she wasn’t. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “No funny business from me. You take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”
She looked at her watch. Damn him, he was right. Half an hour to get home. A shower. Lay down in bed. Then it was time to get back in a cab.
“Fine,” she said. No matter how tempting he might be, all cleaned up and good-looking, she was done looking for love in all those sexy, charming, wrong, wrong places. Love was going to have to find her. “But this is all business. Nothing else.”
Because she’d definitely stopped looking.
Definitely.
For good.