Chapter Eleven
On a what-was-I-thinking scale of one to ten, Kate’s late-night deal with Jake topped out somewhere around eleven. Seventy-two hours spent researching Jake’s hot new theory. And no hanky panky? What had she been thinking? That she could spend three sex-free days with the man? She lined up another piece of the hardwood and set the mallet against the edge.
Hell, the past seven hours had sent her senses reeling. Memories of their time on the island had kept her tossing and turning. In his bed. Alone. Damn. She slammed the mallet too hard against the plank. From across the half-completed floor, Jake flashed one of his wicked smiles. Like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
She looked back at him, annoyed by the effect his smile had on her, irritated by the overly-meticulous way he lined the next floorboard. “Oh my word,” she said, losing her cool. “We’re installing a floor, not performing brain surgery. For crying out loud, put the tongue in the groove and bang it.” She slammed another plank into place. Clearly, all those deep breathing exercises were not helping.
His smile widened, all flirtatious and gorgeous. “Think I’ll stay with slow and easy.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was talking about the floor.”
He angled his mallet against the side of the board. “I thought you meant—”
“I didn’t.” She banged a piece of hardwood into place. Let him be as flirtatious as he wanted. She was through with making relationships more significant than they actually were. No more bad dates. No more half-assed relationships.
“Kate, can you give me a hand with this?” he asked, tapping the mallet into the board. “This one won’t connect.”
She pinned him with a suspicious look. “I thought you renovated the floors in your bungalow.”
He leaned back on his haunches, and the faded denim of his jeans stretched across the muscles of his thighs in a way that made her feel like she might melt into the floor. Or possibly say the hell with it all, grab him by the collar, and pick up where they left off last night.
“I refinished those floors. Installation is a whole different technique.” He smiled. Okay, definitely melting into the floor. “Of course, I’m more than willing to learn a new technique.” The way he said it could mean more than a simple home renovation tutorial, but she needed to keep her eye on her exclusive.
No. No way he meant that. They’d agreed this wasn’t going anywhere beyond business.
“Let’s stick with the basics.” She slid across the floor to settle next to him.
He eased closer. “I like the basics.”
I bet you do, she thought. After slipping a tapping block from her tool belt, she leaned forward and placed the block against the side of the floorboard. “See how the groove in the block aligns with the tongue of the plank to give it a cushion? Makes it less likely to cause damage. Some blocks have multiple groove lengths. Others have ball-shaped handles.”
She reached for another piece of hardwood and tried not to think about the fact that he was the hottest-looking guy she’d laid her eyes on—ever.
“So how’s dating going now that you’re the new Kate?”
She slammed the mallet down. Hard. “That’s really none of your business.”
“You think I’m trouble,” he said.
“I know you’re trouble.”
His smile widened. “Just wondering how the new you is working out. You know I’m rooting for you.” He raised his eyebrows. Shot over his persuasive sweet, charming smile. “Don’t want you to miss an opportunity to be spontaneous.”
Her tongue dashed out to wet her lips. “Spontaneous?”
He grinned, clearly aware of the effect he was having on her with his talk about dating and spontaneity. “A woman ready to dive into a new spur-of-the-moment adventure is sexy.”
She ignored the sudden rush of heat flooding through her. “This from a man who overpacks a picnic and meticulously measures his floorboards.”
A low, impossibly sexy laugh rumbled up from his chest. “Maybe I know the value of caution, but I also know there’s something sensual about embracing the unexpected. Letting go.”
Letting go. Exactly what she was trying to do—let go. She focused her attention back on the damn the floor, but her heart was pounding so hard, she wondered if he could hear it. “And how does this exclusive lesson apply to installing a new kitchen floor?”
She slammed the mallet down—right onto her thumb. She dropped the mallet and sprang onto her feet, yelping curses.
He came after her, held up his hands, waiting for her to calm down. “Come here, come here, come here.”
Her whole hand throbbed with pain. She cradled it in her other hand. “I’m an idiot.”
He took her hands into his. Soft touch. So soft. “No, it’s my fault. I kept trying to get under your skin.”
She glared at him. “So you admit it.”
“Old habits die hard. And you’re so much fun when you’re angry. Let me see.”
She swallowed, closed her eyes, and opened her hands, afraid of what she’d see. “Is it bad?”
“Well…we might have to amputate.”
She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Still joking—”
He rubbed her injured hand with his palms. “It’s fine. Maybe a little bruise.”
Already, the pain was subsiding. And his touch was leaving something very troublesome in its place. “Stop that. My hands are dirty.”
“My hands are dirty, too. Does that feel better?”
It did. A lot. Too much.
He brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it. Her body shuddered. What a mess. But it left her hungry for his touch. He lowered her hand and started to turn away.
“Jake…”
It was all the invitation he needed. His lips brushed hers, a fleeting touch that left her wanting more, so she pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him completely, and the torn-up kitchen fell away. Call it spontaneous. Call it research. She didn’t care. She breathed him in, all spicy soap and fresh laundry. She wanted the feel of his lips on hers, kissing her until she literally thought her heart might explode into hundreds of pieces. She could barely breathe, barely string two thoughts together.
The vibration of her phone against her hip reverberated through the fog of her thoughts. She tried to ignore it, but the damn thing kept buzzing. Reaching for the place where it was hooked into her tool belt, she felt Jake’s fingers skim down her arm, searching for the phone.
“Oh God, please,” he whispered against her mouth, “don’t answer.”
“I have to answer.” The phone kept buzzing and buzzing and buzzing, so she shifted away from him, pulled the phone from the compartment on her tool belt and answered without looking at the screen. “Kate Bell.”
Jane’s voice echoed through the phone. “I’m on my way.”
Kate struggled to keep her tone even and calm. The last thing she wanted was to give her friend the slightest hint she was breathless, that moments ago, she’d been dangerously close to a round of spontaneous research.
“On your way where?” Jake dropped a kiss on her shoulder, and she waved him away.
“To Jake’s place,” she said in her direct way. “When you didn’t turn up at the office, I figured you were still working, and since I owe you for the floors…”
She stared at the phone, her head already shaking no. This was a disaster waiting to happen. The last thing she needed was for her friend to arrive, find out her brother had arrived early, and get any new matchmaking ideas. “Jane, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
There was a short pause as if she’d thrown her for a loop, and then, “Coffee’s always a good idea.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you, but…we’re just banging away over here.” She sent Jake a pleading look. “No need to stop by.” Jake fell back against the floor and groaned. Too late, she realized her mistake. Not only was she a dating disaster, but she was a terrible liar.
“We?” Sharp as the edge of a backsaw, Jane pressed for more information. “Who’s we?”
Kate raised her eyes to the ceiling and scrunched up her face, readying for the blow. “Me…and your brother.”
“Jake?” Her voice leaped an octave. “He wasn’t supposed to get here until this afternoon. Let me talk to him.” Kate shot him another pleading look, and he held his hand out for the phone.
While he spoke with his sister, Kate smoothed the line of her T-shirt, straightened her tool belt, grateful they’d been interrupted mid-kiss, mid-whatever. Because all that action in the middle of his kitchen floor might have been spontaneous, but it also defined the words “close call.” Kate shoved the tapping block into its compartment and yanked on the belt, wondering why the hell she’d kissed him in a way that clearly violated her own rules. Chalk it up to the fact that the sex between them had been amazing and sweet and tender.
No—he was off-limits. The man didn’t believe in love. And she didn’t want to screw up her last chance to save her career. She’d sacrificed the bachelor profile for him. But this exclusive? He owed her. And she meant to claim.
She eyed him as he wrapped up the call, an easy smile on his face. For better or worse, she liked him. Liked his ocean blue eyes. Liked his clean scent. Liked the impossibly enticing grin that made her want to confess all her fantasies. And then share them on the kitchen floor. Close call? Absolutely.
Finished with the call, Jake moved the phone back and forth between them. “This lesson is not over,” he said, handing her the cell. “But I have to go. I have a meeting with my publisher in an hour, and thanks to my sister’s ability to call at the most inconvenient time,” he said, shaking his head in affectionate surrender, “I’ve got to swing by the Smart Cupid office, too.” He shook his head and sighed. “Do you have plans for lunch?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“We can at least go over what you want the interview to look like.”
“Are you sure that’s all we’re going to talk about?”
He smiled. “We can talk about that kiss if you want, but I know we said this would be all business.”
He had a point. A stolen kiss wasn’t such a big deal as long as they ignored it.
Yeah, Kate. That’s a brilliant strategy.
“Deal.”
…
Fishing the phone from the pocket of his shorts, Jake looked up at the corner office of the sleek building in the Flatiron. He turned the phone over and considered calling Jane. Let her know he’d cut his meeting short and arrived early. But—no. So much more fun to be a surprise.
A few minutes later, armed with her favorite extra hot, no-whip, triple mocha latte, he stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall into the Smart Cupid offices. Nice place—bold, sophisticated, cool—just like Janey. He felt a surge of pride in his chest. Yeah, damn proud.
He stopped in front of a small desk overrun with technology, and a pretty, dark-haired woman wearing tortoise-shell glasses blinked up at him. He’d only seen her in a wedding photo. Nick’s wedding photo. Yeah, he’d missed a lot by staying away. More than he’d counted on.
A pang of guilt in his gut joined his sense of pride as he offered his hand to his brother’s newlywed wife. “You must be Marianne. I’m—”
“Jake,” she said.
Her voice was warm and sweet. A far cry from Nick’s usual type, the ambitious legal eagle looking for a fun Saturday night, and yet, if she was taken aback by his out-of-the-blue arrival, she gave no indication. No doubt she could handle Nick. He liked her immediately.
A conspiratorial smile broke across his face, and he nodded toward the corner office. “Thought I’d get here early. Surprise Jane.”
In what could only be a well-practiced stall tactic, she readjusted her glasses against the bridge of her nose. “Maybe I should let her know you’re here.”
“And spoil the surprise?”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “Not sure she enjoys surprises. Statistically speaking.”
Jake’s smile widened into a grin. He knew exactly how much his sister liked a good stunner. “Not even a little? Not even when I come bearing coffee?”
“Not even a little.” She eyed his misguided coffee-flavored peace offering and lowered her voice to a whisper. “And after the whole bachelor fiasco…”
“M.A., can you please…” His sister walked out of her office, nose pointed at a tablet computer, forehead wrinkled. He cleared his throat, and she stopped in her tracks.
A knowing smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. July.”
He held his arms out wide. “The one and only.”
“Except it’s August.” The snap of her tablet closing emphasized the point. She walked over and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.” She flashed him a smile. “But I’m happy you’re here.”
Jake drew his sister into a bear hug and looked over her shoulder at Marianne.
“Good surprise?” he asked.
Marianne nodded. “Good surprise.”
…
“A new book?” Jane tore into a bag of peanut M&Ms. “That’s the reason you’re here?”
“Not the only reason.” Jake eased onto the red velvet sofa a few feet from his sister’s oversized desk, stretched out his legs, and crossed them at the ankles. “I get to see my brother and sister and wrap up the sale of the apartment, but yes, there’s a new book.”
Jane settled into the chair behind her desk. “Three years and, all of a sudden, a new book.”
He shrugged. “Easier than digging my heels into a lawsuit against my ex-agent.”
His publisher was dealing with that asshole, so as long as Jake delivered the second book on his contract, he’d never have to see him again. A definite bonus.
“Easier since when?”
“Since I’ve been…inspired.”
“Inspired.” She gave him nothing. A poker face.
Jake shifted slightly. Cleared his throat. He knew she was pissed that he’d bailed on the bachelor interview, even more so that he’d side-stepped her attempted matchmaking, but the truth was, she’d done him a tremendous favor. Kate had inspired him. Hell, maybe she was his Muse. “All I know is that the book was banging at my insides, dying to get out.”
“So what’s the title?” she asked, all nonchalant curiosity.
Yep, here’s where it got tricky.
He shifted on the loveseat. “No Strings Attached. It explores my new theory that a friends-with-benefits situation is a healthy way to get a guy’s groove back.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Get a guy’s groove back?”
“Yes.”
“What about a woman?” The tearing of candy wrapper emphasized her words.
His eyes narrowed on the crinkled packaging. So not static. “What about a woman?”
Jane pinned him with a look like the one she’d used when they were kids and he’d hidden the beat-up, stuffed monkey she’d loved. “Can a friends-with-benefits situation help to get a woman’s groove back?”
He arched a brow. “I don’t see why not.”
Jane nodded. “And after the groove is back?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Nothing. That’s the beauty of it. In the contemporary dating landscape, a ‘friends-with-benefits relationship’ is the new gold standard.”
“The contemporary landscape? The gold standard of relationships?” Jane laughed as if she knew the punch line of a joke he hadn’t quite figured out. “You call that inspired?”
The muscles in his jaw clenched defensively. “This is a strong, psychologically valid theory about how nice guys—and, yes, nice women—can have a short-term sexual relationship and enjoy it. Not everyone needs a commitment to be complete. Life’s not a Tom Cruise movie.” He’d learned that one the hard way. Marriage Lesson Number One. He leaned back on the couch. “There’s joy in freedom.”
“Sounds like a lot of bullshit to me.” She tossed a few of the candies into her mouth and gave him a long, assessing look. “Yep, this is better than I expected. I can’t wait to tell Nick.”
“Tell him what?” Jake suspected his sister’s attitude had something to do with Kate, but he’d already explained that her matchmaking radar was way off on that score.
She picked up her cell and pressed the speed-dial. “Tell him you’re on the ropes.”
“I am not on the ropes.”
A mischievous laugh escaped her. “Okay, Jake, if you say so.”
“I am—” Jake drew in a breath. Not on the ropes.
“By the way, I spoke with Kate about her exclusive.” She shifted forward, a smile edging across her face. “Since she’s too nice to call you on it, I asked legal to draw up the contract.” She opened up her drawer, took out a lengthy document, and tossed it onto the desk. “Sign it. Give it to Kate.” She held up the phone to indicate their brother had picked up—and on the first ring or two. He never picked up that fast for him. “Nick, guess who’s in my office.” She covered the phone with her palm. “Should I put him on speaker?”
Jake shook his head. One of them heckling him was enough. As his sister joked with Nick, he picked up the contract. All pretty standard, he thought, burying it into the front pocket of his cargos. But why did she need a contract? Granted, he hadn’t described his full-on theory. Or told her the title yet. But he would. Timing was everything. As for the contract, he’d given his word, and he always kept his word.
Jake gave his sister the high sign to let her know he was heading out and walked over to the door.
“Where are you running off to?” she asked, ending the call. “I thought we could all grab lunch at Salvatore’s?”
He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. “The old pizza joint in Brooklyn?”
Jane held up the phone. “Nick’s in, too.”
Damn, he loved that old place down on Washington Street, with its unmistakable red-and-green sign that lit up half the block. He loved Sally, too. The pizza maker with the heavy Brooklyn accent had been more like a father to them than their own. Hell, he’d given Jane a job when they’d needed the money. How many times had the old guy let his sister sneak him slices of pizza out the back door? Probably would have starved if not for Sally. He’d have to get over there before he left the city. “I can’t. I made plans to take Kate to Chinatown for lunch.”
She tucked her dark hair behind both ears and leaned forward on her elbows. “Spicy Village?’
“Is there any place else?” Jake walked back and gave her a fast kiss on the cheek. “Tell Nick I’ll call him later.”
She smiled up at him. “After your date?”
“Business,” he reminded her, making a break back to the office door. “Not a date.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were you definitely on the…”
He stopped in the doorway and looked over at her. “Don’t say it.”
Jane held back a smile. Gave him a little wave. “Have fun on your date.”
Jake turned to go. “Not a date.”
Nope. No matter what his matchmaking, date-obsessed sister had to say, he was so not on the ropes.