Smart Girls Think Twice (6 page)

Or maybe not. She’d never gone out of her way to see a pair of six-pack abs on a man. But then she’d never seen a man as hot as Jake.

Was she drooling? She raised her fingers to her mouth to check. Maybe that was Dr Pepper.

She took another drink but kept her eyes on Jake.

He was in profile now. She could actually see his nipples. How narrow was that damn alley anyway that she could see him so clearly?

She knew she should look away but lacked the willpower to do so. Finally she reached into her pocket for her iPod and stuck the earbuds into her ears. Music blared. She now had a soundtrack to go with his arm curls. “My Favorite Mistake” by Sheryl Crow.
Ain’t that the
truth.
Thinking about Jake was a big mistake. That didn’t seem to stop her, though.

Emma closed her eyes and let the residual images of naked Jake wash over her as the music pounded. So involved was she in this process that she didn’t even notice there was someone on the fire escape with her until she opened her eyes and saw Jake right beside her. Not entirely naked but close enough as he was only wearing a pair of black running shorts.

“How did you do that?” she blurted out.

He shrugged. “Climbing your fire escape was a piece of cake.” Catching her eyeing him, Jake matter-of-factly said, “My leg still looks pretty gnarly from my climbing injuries. It won’t win any beauty contests but it holds me up just fine.”

Emma thought he looked just fine. She hadn’t even noticed the fine white line of scars from his left thigh down to his knee.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came over to ask you if you enjoyed the show.”

“Were you putting on a show? I wasn’t paying any attention.”

“Yeah, you were. Avid attention.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Were you imagining things while you were watching me?”

“I was thinking about work.”

“Right.”

“I was.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Hunkering down beside her, he reached into her Cheetos bag and retrieved one. Instead of stealing it for himself, he held it up to her mouth and drew it around the curve of her bottom lip.

“You can get addicted, you know.”

She didn’t know, but she was learning fast. He made addiction seem like a good thing.

Sheryl Crow continued singing in her ear while a secret excitement sang through the rest of her body. Jake was so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body, from his fingers holding that Cheeto and tempting her with it but actually tempting her with something even more appealing—himself.

He slowly moved closer, watching her reaction before erasing the remaining few inches between his mouth and hers.

“Mmm,” he mumbled against her lips. “I’ve never kissed a girl who tastes like Cheetos and Dr Pepper before. I like it.”

He licked her lips and she parted them, just like that.

Talk about guilty pleasures. This man put all others to shame. He was a trillion times better than Dr Pepper or Cheetos. The man was even better than Godiva dark chocolate truffles, and that was saying something. He braced his free hand against the back of her head while the hand holding the Cheeto that had started this whole thing was now running through her hair, sans junk food.

His thumb brushed against her earlobe, and she shivered with heat, not cold.

He dislodged the iPod earbud, but she didn’t care. The only thing that seemed to matter in that moment was that he continue kissing her. Which he did, blending one kiss into the next even deeper one.

Emma had never considered herself to be a particularly sensual being, but he was making her rethink that theory. Not that she was actually doing much thinking at all. None, really.

This was all about feeling. All about the rush of heated pleasure that made her go up in flames.

She didn’t even realize they’d rolled off the pillow and were now in a full body embrace until after it happened. By then she was enjoying herself far too much to question the wisdom of such a move. His bare leg was between hers. She allowed her fingers to linger on the small of his back, at the top of the waistband of his shorts.

He shoved her iPod aside and in doing so brushed his hands against her breasts. They responded, her nipples at full alert and begging for more attention.

He slid his hand beneath her tank top. He undid the front fastening of her bra with adept skill.

The man was clearly no stranger to women’s lingerie. Or to what moves made a woman melt.

Jake made the simplest caress of his thumb over her nipple seem like the most divine thing in the universe. This was nothing like the awkward gropings Ted had attempted. There was simply no comparison.

So this was what it felt like to be seduced by a pro.

Heaven. Sheer heaven.

Jake moved his hand down to the waistband of her shorts when a series of loud catcalls from the alley below ruined the moment. He rolled away from her to glare at the idiot down below. It was Roy.

Talk about a total buzzkill.

That fast, Emma scooted off the fire escape and into her apartment before slamming the window closed and locking it. She then lowered the blinds for good measure.

Jake leaned over the railing. The dangerous look he sent Roy’s way was enough to make the jerk go running for safety.

Jake then turned his attention to Emma’s window. Who knew a kick-ass sociologist could kiss like that? Unlike the bodacious babes who’d trailed after him most of his adult life, Emma had an element of freshness and fire that made for an unbeatable combination.

That discovery had Jake grinning. He knew better than to force the issue now, but he was definitely looking forward to picking up where they had left off real soon.

Jake was working a split shift—the afternoon shift when Emma had walked in and now the late shift from ten until closing at 2 a.m. Nick’s Tavern was quieter than usual tonight. Not that he was any expert on the place. He’d worked there only two weeks, and he had yet to meet the owner. The manager had hired him.

A woman in her early fifties with platinum hair and artificially enhanced double-D-cup breasts shimmied onto a bar stool.

She looked like the hungry sort so he set a bowl of peanuts next to her. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Don’t call me ma’am,” she growled in the gravelly voice of a three-pack-a-day smoker.

“The name is Nicole. Nicole Fabrizio.”

Jake recognized the name as being on his list of possibilities in the birth-mom department.

The private investigator he’d hired had e-mailed him the list to his iPhone a little while ago based on his mother’s age at the time of his birth, a nugget of info the investigator had just now managed to dig up. The PI hadn’t had a chance to do a profile on all the possible candidates yet.

“But you can call me Nic,” the woman said.

“Nic?” Jake knew he sounded stupid, but damn he was more than a little freaked at actually meeting someone who might be his birth mother.

“Yeah. As in the owner of this place. Nick’s Tavern. Why the stunned look? You thought Nick was a guy?”

“Yeah.”

She laughed. “I used to be a guy.”

It took a lot to shake Jake. The possibility that his birth mom was . . . hold on. That wouldn’t work.

“Aw, I was just pulling your leg,” Nic said. “I’m as female as they come. Hey, you don’t look like you believe me. Want me to demonstrate?” she purred, running her fingers up his arm.

“No.”

“You don’t have to back up like that.” She returned to her earlier growl. “And don’t go thinking you can sue me with sexual harassment or any shit. I’ll deny everything. I’ve got enough men trying to get my attention that I don’t have to go chasing after anyone.” She slid off the stool and posed before him. “A body like this doesn’t come easy or cheap. You don’t get a body like this by having kids.”

“You never had any kids?”

“Do I look like I’ve had kids?” She lifted her stretchy black sparkly tube top to proudly display her tummy. “Do you see any stretch marks here?”

“Don’t answer,” a guy a few seats away advised Jake. “That’s one of them trick questions women ask men. Like ‘Does this outfit make me look fat?’ Besides them plastic surgeons can do miracles these days. She could have had a dozen kids and had one of those lipo deals to remove all the evidence.”

“No more booze for you,” Nic growled.

“Nic, is that you?” The guy leaned closer and almost fell off his stool. “What happened to your flannel shirts and jeans?”

“I won a makeover in one of those contests.”

“No shit.” He moved closer. “You hardly ever come in here anymore. Not for years.”

“Yeah, well, I decided to show off my new look. I was waiting for all the swelling to go down.”

The guy’s eyes were just about popping. “You’re a real hot momma now.”

Momma? The term took on a new meaning for Jake.

Turning his back on them both, Jake poured himself a shot of tequila.

“Are you drinking my booze?” Nic came around the bar to demand. “I should fire your ass.”

She eyed his denim-covered butt. “A damn fine ass it is too.”

He sidestepped her pinching fingers.

“You sure are a jumpy one. I heard you were some kind of fearless extreme sports god or something. I guess that’s just another one of those wild rumors.”

“Hey, Nic.” The greeting came from Sheriff Nathan. “You’re not using that con again that you own Nick’s Tavern to get free drinks, are you?”

Nic glared at him. “Anyone tell you that your timing stinks, Sheriff?”

“Does that mean that she’s not the owner?” Jake asked.

Nathan just grinned. “Nic has a strange sense of humor.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” He had yet to completely recover from her claim that she was a guy.

“What do her kids think of her humor?” Jake asked Nathan.

“What is it with you and kids?” Nic said. “I’m not a breeding machine. Those days are gone. And I really do own this place. Nathan is the one with the warped sense of humor.

The tavern was my dad’s before I inherited it. Nick Fabrizio.” She made the sign of the cross. “May he rest in peace.”

Peace was something Jake hadn’t had much of in his life, and it didn’t look as though he was going to find much of it here in Rock Creek.

The next day, Emma retrieved her laptop from her backpack and pulled up the file containing her notes about Skye Wright-Thornton, the owner of the Tivoli Theater she was about to interview.

“Thank you for meeting with me—” Emma began.

Skye interrupted her. “So you’re Sue Ellen’s smart sister.”

Emma grimaced.

Skye kept talking. “I’ve got a smart sister too. She’s a librarian in Serenity Falls.”

Emma had considered becoming a librarian. There were days when she wished she had continued those studies instead of pursuing her bachelor’s and doctoral degrees in sociology. Just another decision of hers that she was second-guessing these days.

Emma used to scoff at the idea of a quarter-life crisis and thought it was just a lot of spoiled whining, but now that she was feeling some of the insecurities, she wondered if this was fate’s way of laughing at her. But those thoughts would have to take a backseat for now. At the moment her focus was on her project. She’d set up several individual interviews, beginning with Skye.

“The revival of Rock Creek appears to have started with your renovation of the Tivoli Theater,”

Emma said. “Did you anticipate that this would happen?”

“No way.” Skye shook her head so vehemently her short red hair flew in various directions.

“I don’t plan that far ahead.”

“What made you want to renovate this theater?”

“It called to me.”

Emma stared at her blankly.

“You’ve never had a place call to you? Bonded with it? Felt that special connection? No?

Well, I did.”

“The town is beginning to make a name for itself as a center for the arts.”

“And a center for female empowerment. Your sister Leena is responsible for that. She’s a web celeb now. Her blog has really taken off. Of course, being recommended on Oprah’s website didn’t hurt. But you already know all that.”

“Actually with the wedding preparations and everything, I haven’t had a chance to sit down and interview Leena yet. I mean, I know about her blog of course and how successful it’s been, but I haven’t had a chance to discuss details about how it came to be. She’s been busy getting ready for her wedding.”

“I can’t believe both your sisters are getting married within two weeks of each other. I told them both they should elope like Nathan and I did. We saved all that money that would have been wasted on a wedding ceremony. Instead we took off for the Smokies and got married in a little chapel near the edge of the national park and then spent the next week holed up in a log cabin.”

Skye smiled. “There’s nothing like log-cabin sex.”

Emma wondered what log-cabin sex would be like with Jake. She’d already imagined fire-escape sex with him. They’d come very close to it yesterday. She’d spent most of the night consumed with extremely realistic, extremely hot dreams about Jake.

“Yes, well . . .” Emma tried very hard to stay focused on her work. “Getting back to the theater.

You’ve done a number of programs here on everything from comic book art to fabric art and weaving.”

Skye nodded and launched into a long commentary about the importance of creativity and art and music and how local school districts were running out of funds and cutting art programs from the curriculum. Emma knew she should be paying attention, but she was still distracted by the thought of log-cabin sex with Jake.

The man was dangerous to her peace of mind. He’d be dangerous to most women’s peace of mind. He had that dark and brooding thing going on that aroused her curiosity about the secrets hidden in the depths of those golden brown eyes of his.

The trouble was that Jake aroused more than her curiosity. He made her think about orgasms and fire-escape sex. These were not topics that Emma normally spent much time considering. Or
any
time considering. Until Jake.

“Don’t you agree?” Skye said.