Jake squeezed her tighter and shushed her. "I figured it out about two seconds into Booker's lecture."
Emily wiped her cheeks. "I was afraid that it might make a difference if you knew that I'd never… and I didn't know what kind of difference it would make."
Jake pulled back and tilted her chin to look up at him. "It doesn't make a damn bit of difference to me whether you are a virgin or the most experienced woman in the world, because you're not ready. I'm not ready.
We
aren't ready." He shook his head. "Hell, this is only our second date and it hasn't even been a real date, but the strangest night of my life which is amazing considering that yesterday was the strangest day of my life. Where did you learn how to kiss like that anyway? No, don't tell me. I don't want to know."
"I read a lot," she answered. "I don't have any experience in relationships at all. I was afraid I'd turn into my mother and start looking for love in the wrong places and—"
"Don't say it. I'm not ready to hear it. I don't even want to think about it. Tell me on our third date. By the way, that's happening tomorrow."
"Tomorrow's good with me." Emily sniffed and dropped her forehead to his chest. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. I never meant to. I was more frightened for Tabitha than I was for myself. That poor girl has been through so much. It nearly broke my heart to listen to her talk about the things her mother said to her. All I could think about was that I had to scare the wits out of her and get her to break down. Marilyn would know what to do next."
"Ask me to forgive you tomorrow." Jake rested his chin on the top of her head. "My emotions are tapped out for the night."
Emily gave a small laugh and it was a miserable sound. "Is your mother still mad at you?"
Jake heaved a great sigh. "No. She forgave me when she saw you were okay. She thinks you're the best thing to hit this world since me. Katie thinks you walk on water. My father thinks you're as cute as buttons—whatever that means. Alex thinks I should share you with him. Nick thinks that I should feed you another bowl of his ice cream and let him watch while you torture me with another strawberry. Ah, and don't let us forget the wonderful duo of Bud and Frank."
"What do they think you should do with me?"
Jake sighed again. "Frank thinks I should take you home and chain you to the bed. An idea I was beginning to consider. And Bud, who is a true believer in feminine rights, thinks I should marry you and keep you barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen until you have learned respect for you superiors, who are without a doubt—in his twisted mind—men.
"He even went so far as to give me an example of how to speak to you. It goes something like this… Woman—his words, not mine—go fix me a turkey pot pie. Needless to say, I was outraged at his apparent lack of respect for you and your gender—even though I was pissed as hell at you—and told him to seek therapy before sets foot back in the bar."
"And what did he say to that?"
"He asked for another beer and gave me a ten dollar tip, then muttered an apology during which he begged me not to give his seat to anyone else. Which brings to mind something I wanted to do before this fiasco started."
Emily looked up at him. "What's that?"
Jake smiled down at her. "Patience is a sexy virtue, my sweet Emily." He waved Alex over to them. "If you don't mind, I'm going to show my mother that her dance instruction was not wasted on me."
"On one condition." Alex noticed the tears on her face. "Make that two."
Emily felt Jake tense against her, but he asked, "What are they?"
"That I get a break and a chance to dance with Miss Emily—that is, if she doesn't mind."
"And the second?"
"That you give her back that smile she's been wasting on your sorry hide."
Emily couldn't help it. She covered her mouth with her hand and laughed.
"You can dance with her—if she doesn't mind—but I am not sharing her with you."
"Go on," Alex said and shooed them away from the bar. "Get. But don't you dance her fool shoes off. I don't want her coming to me tired. She's gonna need all her strength to keep up with me."
"Wait," Emily cried. "I can't go out there like this. I need to fix my—"
"No, you don't." Jake caught her chin and tilted it from side to side, examining the minute details. "Beautiful. Perfect. Well, almost." He kissed her then and it was fierce, possessive, tinged with a touch of latent anger, and a lot of sexual frustration. On whose part the frustration belonged Emily didn't have a clue. All she knew was that she wanted this man to be her first lover and that she wanted him to do it as soon as possible.
Jake ended the kiss as breathless as her. "Sweet Emily, you are turning me into an exhibitionist. Do you know that my parents are probably at this very moment—my mother in particular—plotting to find a way to make you a permanent part of the family? And here you are making me horny as all get out with kisses that fry my brain."
"You know you love it," Emily all but purred for him.
His grin turned her insides to jelly and she sagged against him. "You know it, babe. Come on before you make me make you…
you know
. And letting you do that in front of Alex would be cruel and inhumane."
"Cruel and inhumane to do what in front of me?"
"Nothing," Jake said while dragging Emily away from Alex.
"Now, Jake,
you know
… is not nothing. It is a very important, dare I say, vital part of my existence. I simply cannot maintain my sanity without…
you know
-ing," Emily said.
Jake stopped them at the edge of the dance floor and, as they waited for the band leader to announce the next song, asked her, "Since the night in the mail room how many times have you
you know
-ed?"
Emily blushed for all she was worth, but answered, "Four."
His jaw dropped to his chest. "Four?"
She nodded.
"Four." He repeated it several times. With each repetition his smile grew as—she suspected—did his ego. "Four. And we haven't even gotten to the good stuff."
"Jake?"
"Sweetheart, you are going to kill me when we're ready for the good stuff. You know that, don't you?"
Emily wrapped her arms around his neck and went up on tiptoes to tell him, "Those four didn't include the ones in my sleep."
Jake groaned and kissed her again. "I have to hire another bartender. 'Cause there is no way I'm gonna be in any shape to think, let alone work a tap. Hell, I'll probably be dead with a stupid grin etched on my mug."
"Yeah, but you know you'll love it."
"Every damn minute of it." Jake reached around and caught her hands. "You ready to show these amateurs a thing or two, sweetheart?"
"Darlin', I was born ready."
"So… have you had sex, yet?"
Emily choked on her soda and, through a sheer act of willpower, swallowed. It was Sunday morning and they were in the process of choosing a suitable wardrobe for Tabitha from Stafford & Co.'s downtown store.
"Marilyn," Booker said in chiding tones. "You really must learn how to be more diplomatic."
Marilyn crossed her legs and sank back into an overstuffed chair. "You were the one who wanted to know."
"But I was planning to ask Jake."
"No, you were planning to scare him into confessing."
"No," Booker drawled. "Jake and I have an understanding. He values his life and, therefore, he values our baby doll." Booker grew thoughtful. "I think the little boy might actually be good enough for our baby doll."
"Jake is not little," Marilyn commented. "Well, compared to you he is. But I agree with you. He is good enough. His parents are lovely. His sister is wicked. I could really grow to like his sister."
Booker chuckled and propped his feet up on an Ottoman. "That little Katie is a spitfire. She's going to run some man in circles before she lets him get close enough to her."
Marilyn nodded wisely. "She told me the most amazing thing."
"What was that?"
"Jake has never brought a girl around to meet the parents."
"What?" Emily gasped.
Booker and Marilyn ignored her. "Really," Booker intoned. "Lily certainly liked our baby doll."
"Mmm, Jed did, too. Jed couldn't stop smirking when he told me about the look on Jake's face when our little baby doll snared Tabby Cat."
Booker pursed his lips. "Perhaps, I went too hard on the boy. Jake hasn't had the kind of training we have and we all know how mule headed Lee can be when she's—"
"Stop right there." Emily set her drink on the coffee table and scowled at her friends. "If either of you had been with me, I would have done the same thing. I resent the fact that you both chewed Jake out because I went after Tabitha. And in the future, I—"
"In the future," Booker interrupted, "you will not do something as foolish as that again."
"I make my own decisions, Booker. You are not—"
Booker shot to his feet and towered over Emily. "I am paid an exorbitant amount of money to protect you. I am responsible for your well-being and life. In the future you will not, ever, do something as foolish as—"
"How do I look," Tabitha asked excitedly. She skipped out into dressing room lounge and danced in circles before her audience.
Marilyn clapped her hands together in delight. "Look, children. I knew that color would be divine on our Tabby Cat. Twirl for us, dearie." Marilyn cooed and preened over Tabitha's choice of a dress. She commented on the excellent green of the fabric and how the color accentuated Tabitha's gorgeous eyes while Emily and Booker continued to glare at each other.
"Booker," Emily whispered. "Do you seriously think I was in any danger?"
He hesitated a moment, looked to Tabitha, then back to Emily. "That's not the point and you know it." He dropped back into his chair. "You are an inspiration, Tabby Cat. A fiery beauty."
"Tabby Cat, why don't you go and try on the blue dress," Marilyn suggested. "I'm dying to know what Lee has to say about that one."
"Okay, I'll be right back," Tabitha promised, then raced off to the dressing room.
Marilyn waited until Tabitha was out of earshot, then motioned to Booker. "I believe there was something you wanted to mention to Lee."
"There was," Booker said.
Emily had seen this particular look on Booker's face only once before in their long time association. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
Booker folded his arms and leaned back. "We've been friends for a long time."
Emily's brow furrowed. "We have. So?"
Booker nodded. "So. Marilyn and I are the closest thing you have to a functional family."
"Uh, Booker, I—"
He held up a hand and Emily halted. "This is something I have to get off my chest. It's been bugging me for the past week and I know it'll keep bugging me until I just say it."
Emily glanced at Marilyn who just smiled and motioned for her to pay attention to Booker. The last time he'd started a conversation with 'This is something I have to get off my chest', Booker had marched into Emily's dressing room and practically ordered her to quit working as an exotic dancer.