A Date on Cloud Nine (13 page)

L
illy was a little dizzy from the speed with which events unfolded, but she realized what she was faced with: two men figuratively circling her with crests raised, each staking his territory.

“This close,” she sighed regretfully.

This close
to accomplishing her goal.

Surely, to ensure a child who was destined to do something great, it’d only take one time to conceive. Although if Jake made love as hot as he did foreplay, she was willing to repeat the exercise over and over and over.

But
noooo
, she’d blown it. Well actually, Andrew had. What timing. What—

Shoot, what if maybe, just as she’d feared at the mall, Elizabeth had sent Andrew here this evening because
he
was the right one? Not that Lilly had any doubt whom she wanted. Jake, hands down. But that didn’t mean he was the right one in John and Elizabeth’s book.

Damn.

Even if she knew who was supposed to father her child, turns out getting a man naked wasn’t as easy as Betsy always made it sound.

Since she didn’t know which one was the official, designated
right one
, she quickly decided to go with the hunk she wanted in the most basic, carnal way. She’d come darned close a few minutes ago. Close enough to give her hope that the deed would be done by the end of the night.
Yes!
From here on in, it had to get easier.

And if Jake wanted to clear the path by pulling her stocking out of his pants and one-upping Andrew with an invitation to move in, why would she sabotage that?

She felt herself blush in anticipation of later. If she took time to face facts, she also realized that while she’d known Andrew longer, and he was an okay guy, she actually felt something for Jake she’d never felt for a man before. Besides admiring his dedication to his family and knowing he’d make a great father, she actually
liked
him.

They’d spent eight hours together every day for two weeks in the front seat of a closed-up car. He handled traffic like a master and got her where she needed to go—eventually, because sometimes he seemed to be delaying her by driving in circles. He never once yelled at her to hurry up, shut up, or clean up. He shared all the snacks the neighbors made for him, both with her and the grouchy cat who had him wrapped around his little paw. If she didn’t like him, she was sure she could’ve found something in all that to complain about.

After the last year with her husband, liking was a mighty fine change. Maybe just as important as loving. Brady hadn’t stopped having sex with her because he’d found someone else, but because not being able to finish
what he started made him angry and resentful. He never asked for help with anything; heaven forbid someone would find out he wasn’t the best at everything. If his being unlikable kept Lilly from trying to help him, even if it ate away at their love, well, that was the path he’d chosen.

“Now see here—” Andrew said.

“Good idea,” Lilly said, not taking her eyes off Jake. Lord, she could feast all night on this man. “I could use the extra beauty sleep.” Her grin probably gave her away.

“Well then.” Andrew looked from Lilly to Jake, but he didn’t go all pompous on her the way he might have. “I’ll just leave this here anyway, so you can celebrate.”

He set the bottle of champagne on the island, right where Jake had hoisted her earlier. Lilly hoped she hadn’t left a bare-cheek imprint. Andrew paused midstep. Lilly followed his gaze upward and spotted her missing stocking, dangling from an overhead fan blade.

Andrew recovered quickly. “So long, Jake, good to see you again.” He shook his hand, bussed Lilly’s cheek, whispered, “Be careful, I’ve heard things about him,” and let himself out.

Lilly slowly dragged the stocking free, stretched it between both hands, and turned toward Jake, ready to loop it behind his head and draw him back to the dining room wall. Or the island; she wasn’t picky. She just wanted him hot and heavy and between her legs and inside her,
now
.

What a sorry excuse for a best friend I am.

Jake needed to throw something, hit something, he didn’t care, he just needed to divert a lot of sexual energy
fast
. He couldn’t touch Lilly again without swinging her into his arms and heading for the nearest wall.

One look at what had to be a fierce expression on his face, and she backed off. He could only imagine what she was thinking. Confusion. Rejection?

Lilly covered quickly, turned away, and retaliated by promptly throwing his steak on the hot grill. Even though Jake knew she was hell-bent on burning it—no less than he deserved—he wisely acted as if the situation were just the opposite.

“Wow, you’re starting mine, and I know you don’t like to cook.”

“I can scorch just fine.”

“Hm. Okay, I’ll take over then.”

Lilly threw herself into divvying up the salad bar takings, muttering cryptic comments, ripping open the container. She slammed two plates onto place mats on the island—

Please, no, not the island

She wrenched open the silverware drawer and did the same with utensils.

The look she shot at her phone when it rang was enough to freeze a charging rhino. She stormed over to the built-in desk, picked up the handset, listened a millisecond, then slammed it on the counter. Repeatedly. And then she hung up.

No way he was asking anything about that.

He nuked the potatoes, added her steak to the grill, and tried to sound casual when he said, “Mind if we eat in the atrium?”

Besides a ton of plants, it had some interesting rock formations and a small waterfall, as he remembered. One thing he and Brady had in common—while they both en
joyed the serenity of a garden, they could kill a plant just by looking at it. Lilly was the one with the green thumb.

“It’s my favorite place.” She sounded as if she objected to sharing.

But then she glanced at the atrium door, the island, and back again. She must’ve read his mind, because she set everything they needed on a large tray with a great deal less slamming.

He needed to lighten the mood. He needed to tell her how guilty he felt. Maybe then she’d cool whatever this was between them.

“So, did you ever cook for Brady?”

“Once in a while,” she said, her voice softening again. “If the chef was off, I occasionally stooped to scrambling eggs on a Sunday morning.”

Jake figured he was in trouble again when she lit two candles.

“Boy, not the way Brady told it. He was always raving about your gourmet meals, the dinner parties you gave, some of the dessert recipes you created, things like that.”

“Not unless I have amnesia and nobody told me.”

He
knew
he was in trouble again when she slipped her arms around him from behind as he watched the steaks. Lord, she felt way too good with her breasts pressed into his back.

“Everything okay now?” she asked.

Remember Brady
, he scolded himself. The best friend whose wife he should be looking after, not fucking up against a wall. Life sure would be simpler if she’d stay mad at him just a little longer.

“Look…” How to put this delicately? “I know you and Brady had a really hot sex life…”

“What?” She raised up on tiptoe, rested her chin on his shoulder, and tipped her head so she could see his face. Her breath was warm against his cheek, and the aroma of hyacinths and red wine commingled, teasing his nose, tempting him to turn his head and see how she tasted.

“I know you must be missing it like crazy—”

“Jake…”

He was trying to explain why he had to stop things now, why he couldn’t go ahead with what she had in mind, why it wouldn’t be fair to her and sure as hell would make Brady roll over in his grave.

“He’s gone, I’m here, I was his best friend so I remind you of him. I understand all that.”

She pulled away. “I’m glad one of us does.”

Jake carried the full tray to the bright Mexican tile-topped table in the atrium, admiring white camellia blossoms along the way, pausing to sniff a particularly large one. “Nice.”

“Actually, what you’re smelling is fragrant olive and jasmine. But let’s not change the subject.”

As soon as they took their seats, Lilly refilled their glasses and set the bottle between them.

Good, keep it handy.

“What’s really bothering you, Jake? One minute we’re—”

“Guilt.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you, Lilly, you know that. You can’t help but notice.”

“Sometimes. But then—”

“I know, I know, it’s my fault. I’m always pulling back.”

“Lots of people are afraid to commit—”

He shook his head. “Don’t even go there. Look, you have to understand, I loved Brady like a brother. Not like that jerk Andrew, but a good brother. Wanting you, well, it just seems wrong. Disloyal.”

“But he’s—”

“I went to the funeral, remember?”

She sighed and put her fork down, resting her hands in her lap as she chewed her lip, debating. “Maybe I should explain something.”

“I doubt it.”

“Jake.” The softness in her tone caught his attention the way knocking him over the head wouldn’t. “My marriage…wasn’t working.”

“Oh please,” he scoffed.

“Really. Brady and I barely touched each other the last year we were married, much less had sex. And before that, well, compared to what you and I were just doing, it wasn’t hot at all.”

“Sex on the counter while there’s a dinner party in the dining room isn’t
hot
?”

She snickered. “Let me guess. More stories?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you think somebody would’ve heard us?”

He gulped. Brady’d never said she was a screamer.

“Don’t you think we would’ve been missed?”

“He, uh, he said it was a quickie between courses.”

She grinned mischievously and said, “You think I’m into quickies?” reminding him that while they’d been going at it pretty hot, it certainly hadn’t looked like it was
going to be over fast enough to set any world records. “During a dinner party. Right.”

Pensive, Jake toyed with the stem of his glass. “So, if you didn’t have sex on the counter between courses…”

“No sex on the counter, period.”

“The chair in his office?”

“Doesn’t even sound doable. More wine?”

“You were on top.” He covered his glass with his hand. He needed to stay very, very sober this evening.

“I knew he was jealous of you, but
sheesh
.”

“Of me? No way.”

“Think about it. You were smarter, more independent. You could move to Silicon Valley; he was under his father’s thumb. He was jealous of how your whole family gets along, you know, as if you like each other. You have so much he wanted.”

“I never knew he felt that way.”

“I had no idea he was so creative.”

“Ah, well, sex in a chair’s not all that creative.”

“I meant the stories.”

“Oh.”

“I promise you, you have nothing to feel guilty about.” That said, she started eating again. He followed suit, hoping she’d let him work this through in his own mind. Though he was a little curious. She must have noticed, because she said, “What else?”

She had the cutest way of closing her eyes and savoring the first bites of every meal, as if she’d been living off TV dinners for the past year. He’d get a big head about his cooking, but she did the same thing at McDonald’s and Taco Bell.

“You really like food, don’t you?”

“Tastes like heaven. Come on, what other stories did he tell you?”

“Hm, let me think.”

“You’re stalling.”

“I like my food hot.”

“I’ve got all night.”

He didn’t, though. He couldn’t help it, he still felt guilty. He still wanted to hit something. “You don’t really want more sex stories, do you?”

“
More?
” At first she sounded appalled, but then she grinned devilishly. “Yes, more. Where else did I supposedly get seriously naked with my husband?”

“In an elevator at one of the convention hotels.”

“A little public for my taste. Where else?”

“In an airplane. You know, the Mile High Club.”

On that one, she just grinned and shrugged.

“You didn’t.”

“Hey, I own a plane, and we weren’t always incompatible.”

Asking wouldn’t cool anyone off, so he switched focus. “He bragged about your decorating this house in one day to look like a sultan’s palace.”

“It was just one room, and he hired a color-blind decorator.”

He lit into his food again, then just had to ask. “What’s a sultan’s palace look like?”

“I’m not sure, but apparently he thought it should look like the inside of a velvet tent full of floor cushions and scarf-covered lamps. Along with a lot of beads and tassels and fringe and incense burners.”

“Oh I gotta see that.” He regretted it as soon as he said it, because he was afraid it’d look like a great place to have sex. Damn, what if it was her bedroom?

As sure as anything he’d ever known, Jake understood that Brady’d told him those stories to brand Lilly as his wife, to keep them apart. He should honor that wish. He was
obligated
to honor it.

“How about now?” she suggested.

Was that her bare foot running up his leg? Well shit, of course it was; every topic seemed to lead straight back to sex.

“Some other time. I’ve gotta meet some buddies in—Shoot,” he said, jumping to his feet. “I’m gonna be late unless I leave now.”

“
Now?
” She looked shell-shocked, surging to her feet beside him. “But…what about, you know,
before
?”

“Momentary lapse in judgment. If you put the steak in a baggie, I can eat it while I drive.”

She stabbed his steak with her fork and jabbed the whole juicy lot against his chest.

“Find your own goddam baggie.”

Jake slammed an eighteen-pound bowling ball down lane six, sending all ten pins flying, some over onto lane seven. Since he didn’t know the guys on lane seven, they were understandably pissed off. Seems their guy was working on a three hundred game and didn’t need his concentration broken.