Someone Like Her (12 page)

“Hi, Jake.” Carly squeezed in next to him.

“Hey, Trouble.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things. That’s why I like you. Come dance with me.”

“I get anywhere near you, beautiful, and Mr. Big Bad Policeman’s gonna trump up a reason to throw me in jail. Go find someone else to play with.”

Full, red lips formed a pout. “I want to play with you. Pleeease.”

Not happening. He’d danced with her before he knew she had a jealous cop for a boyfriend. The man had gunned for him ever since. No woman was worth fighting over.
Maria is,
said a voice in his head. Dammit. He was here to get her out of his mind.

“Buck,” he called and held up his empty bottle. Carly’s hand found its way to his thigh, and he sighed. There must be a hundred plus men here tonight. Why him? His beer came sliding down the length of the bar. Jake picked it up and stood.

“Here, have a seat.”

When she was settled, he noted that her miniskirt barely covered her crotch. She was trouble, all right. “Later,” he said and walked away.

Was this to be his existence? Hanging out in bars, looking for the next pickup, and fighting off women who were trouble. He hadn’t thought much about it before—had rather liked his life, the danger of his job, the fun of deciding who he’d take home. He still loved what he did for a living, but the glitter of his nightlife was quickly fading.

An image of him at fifty or sixty—the hair from one side of his head swept over to the other in a futile attempt to hide his bald spots—and hanging out at Buck’s hoping to score played through his mind like a bad movie.

Damn you, Maria.
She was messing with his head, not to mention his nightlife.

Eight, maybe nine beers—maybe more—and two hours later, he’d danced with Rosie, Karen, and several women he’d never met before. All had been willing to go home with him, and he’d fully intended to end his night with one of them. He just couldn’t find the desire to follow through.

“Hit me,” he called to Buck, stumbling as he aimed for a bar stool.

The old man came over empty-handed. “I think you’ve had enough, son. You ain’t driving tonight, are you?”

Jake laughed. “How the hell you thunk . . . think I got here?”

“Still driving that Challenger?”

“Uh-huh.”

“They got special keys, don’t they? You know, cool ones with all those buttons you can push.”

He dug into his pocket, found the fob and stared at it, trying to bring it into focus. “Yep.”

“Let me see.”

Next thing Jake knew, Buck had his car keys and wouldn’t return them. “That was a dirty strick . . . trick. Gimme them back.”

“Nope. Never seen you drunk before, Jake. Don’t much like it. Now call a friend to come get you.”

Hell. He didn’t exactly have a friend. Well, the boss was a friend of sorts, but he wasn’t about to call him. If he called Saint, another sorta friend, he’d never hear the end of it. He could call any number of K2 employees, but didn’t want them talking about having to drive Romeo home. Rosie or one of the other girls would be more than happy to drive him, but they’d expect to come inside with him. Nah, not in the mood.

He fumbled for his cell and finding it, scrolled through the blurry numbers, flipped past Maria’s, then back to it. She was his friend, right? Why the hell not call her since she was the reason he was drunk. He pushed her number.

“Jake?”

“How’d ya know it’s me?”

“Ah, a little thing known as caller ID.”

“You’re being scar . . . shar . . . sar–cas–tic. It’s not becomer . . . becoming.”

“What’s wrong with you? You sound drunk.”

“You been talking to Buck?” He glared at the old man.

“Who?”

Jake handed the phone to Buck. “She wants to talk to you.”

Twenty minutes later, Maria, his friend, stood next to him. He grinned. “Hi, Sha . . . Chiquita, my best friend.”

She leaned away. “You smell like cigarettes.”

He grinned. “That’s ’cause I smoked some.”

“You don’t smoke.”

“Oh.”

She glanced at Buck. “What does he owe you?”

“He’s good for it, just get him home and put him to bed. You the reason he’s messed up?”

The two shared a look Jake couldn’t interpret before she turned to him and tilted her head, studying him. “I don’t know, am I?”

He nodded. “Yep.” Buck had told her to put him to bed. He liked the sound of that.

She put her hand on his leg and squeezed. “Come on, Tiger Toes, let’s get you home.”

“Kay.” He slid off the bar stool. Why did her hand feel so much better than Carly’s? Also, he was starting to like “Tiger Toes.” He really must be drunk.

Trying not to lean too heavily on her, he let Maria—his best friend in the world—lead him to his car. “Where’d ya get those?” he asked when she hit the button to unlock the Challenger.

“What, the keys?”

“Yep.”

She opened the passenger door and pushed him inside. “From Buck.”

Tomorrow he was going to kill the old man, but tonight he loved the sneaky bastard for getting Maria here. He just might love her, too. Tomorrow, he’d figure that one out. Looked like tomorrow was gonna be a busy day.

CHAPTER TWELVE

M
issed you,” Jake said as she turned out of the parking lot, then he promptly fell asleep.

Maria didn’t like seeing him drunk, but couldn’t help liking the things he said when not at his best. He probably wouldn’t remember any of it when he sobered up. Unable to sleep, she’d been reading one of Dani’s books when he’d called. His slurred speech had alarmed her. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him the slightest bit tipsy. What did it mean if he was in this state because of her?

She pulled up in front of his condo. “We’re here.” He responded with a snore. She turned off the iginition and twisted in her seat. Half tempted to take a picture of him drunk with his mouth hanging open, she shook her head and resisted the urge. If Jamie was right and Jake was half in love with her, then it was time he stopped fighting it. He was flying out on Wednesday, and she wanted things settled between them before he left.

“Why you staring at me?” One eye slitted open.

She shrugged. “Why not?”

“Tried to get you outta my head.” Surprising her, he leaned over and gave her a clumsy kiss.

He smelled like booze, cheap perfume, and cigarettes. “God, you stink.” Of the three, some other woman’s perfume on him was the worst. The only way he could smell like that was if the woman had climbed all over him, and obviously, he’d allowed it. Rat bastard.

“Then we need a shower.” He opened the door and stumbled out. He made it halfway up the sidewalk before he realized she wasn’t with him and turned around, weaving his way back to the car. “Come,” he said, tapping on the window.

Did he think they were going to have sex? No way. He was drunk. She’d seen too many wasted men, many of them mean, fumbling in their efforts to screw Lovey Dovey, sometimes knocking her around. Not that she believed Jake would mistreat her, but he wasn’t particularly appealing in his current state. If she was smart, she’d go home and bring the Challenger back to him in the morning.

He opened the door and tugged on her hand. “Come on.” A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “Please.”

Apparently, she wasn’t smart. Besides, she had the keys to his condo and doubted he could manage to find the keyhole. She’d at least unlock the door for him, maybe make a pot of coffee. He could sure use some.

This was the first time she’d been inside his condo, and she looked around with interest, surprised at how nice it was. She’d expected something messy—clothes and magazines strewn about—the furniture worn and cheap.

It was, instead, understated elegance, and as neat as a pin. She hoped he never saw her room. If he was responsible for the décor, then he had a good eye. A brown leather sofa, a matching Euro chair, and a glass coffee table, were the only pieces of furniture. A sand-colored seagrass area rug covered part of the dark wood floor, the biggest TV screen she’d ever seen hung on one wall, and a painting that appeared expensive was on another.

She walked to the picture and studied it. The scene was the back of a young woman with long black hair wearing a knee-length yellow sundress looking out over the Gulf at the rising sun. Barefoot, she stood ankle deep in the water, and the breeze lifted her hair and the hem of her dress, showing a glimpse of one brown thigh.

Maria felt Jake’s breath on her neck, which would have been nice if he didn’t smell like a brewery. “This is a nice picture.”

“She’s you.”

Wow. He’d bought a painting because it reminded him of her? That pleased her to no end, but she would bet her cat he’d deny it to hell and back when his brain wasn’t pickled. She turned around. “Why don’t you jump in the shower while I make you some coffee?”

“You don’t know where the kitchen is. Come with me and we’ll find it together.” Again, he gave her a drunk, lopsided grin. “After we shower me.” Grabbing her hand, he tried to pull her with him.

She pulled away. “Oh, no. I’m not bathing with you tonight, much less sleeping with you. If I do, you’ll be angry with both of us in the morning. When it happens between us, I want you to be fully aware of what you’re doing. I don’t want regrets, Jake. Now off with you.” She waved a hand toward the hallway.

“You’re no fun,” he grumbled and weaved away.

The kitchen wasn’t hard to find as it opened to the great room. She found the necessary supplies and had a strong pot of coffee waiting when he returned. The man who walked into the room wore only a pair of damp red boxer briefs, his hair dripping water, his chest and long, muscular legs glistening with droplets. The air swished out of her lungs.
Holy moly
.

She tried to think of something to say besides, “Holy cow, I want to jump your bones,” and settled for, “Did you forget how to use a towel?” Thankfully, her voice sounded only a little raspy.

He scrunched his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“It doesn’t look like you dried off.”

His chin lowered and he stared at his chest. “Knew I was forgetting something.” He lifted his head, a very wicked smile on his face. “You could dry me off.”

I’d love to.
“Some other time. Here, come drink this coffee.”

“Okay, and then you can dry me.”

Not weaving as much as he was before his shower, he made his way to the table. He brought the cup to his mouth, took a swallow, and then jumped up. At the sink, he spit it out. “Jesus Christ, Maria. How much coffee did you put in this?”

She’d tripled the normal amount figuring it would help sober him. “Too strong?”

In answer, he turned on the tap, let it run to hot, poured out half the contents of the cup, and refilled it with water.

“Next time you’re too drunk to drive, call a cab.” Still hurt at smelling the perfume stinking up his clothes, she snatched the keys off the counter and headed for the door. He could have his damn car back tomorrow.

He moved faster than she would’ve thought possible while under the influence, blocking the doorway. “Don’t leave.”

A drop of water roamed its way down his chest, past a nipple on its way to his stomach. She clamped down on her bottom lip to keep from licking it. He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face, staring into her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” The only thing she really wanted him to apologize for was smelling like he’d had women climbing all over him.

“I don’t know. For this, maybe?” He lowered his mouth to hers.

His mouth was hot and tasted like coffee and mint toothpaste. When his tongue tangled with hers, she put her hands on his hips to steady herself. Muscles flexed under her palms. Even though there’d been those few times with Jonathan, intimately touching a man was still new to her. She could get used to it, could learn to crave it even.

He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her against him. His erection pressed against her belly and an ache began deep in her inner core. If she wasn’t careful, he’d have her in his bed in two minutes flat. Not happening. He wasn’t stumbling drunk any longer, but he was certainly still buzzed, and the probability of him getting all wonky about it when the buzz wore off was still high.

She pushed away. “No. Go to bed, Jake, and sleep it off. I’ll bring your car back in the morning.”

“Don’t leave. I won’t kiss you again.” He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s going on two, and I don’t like the idea of you out by yourself in the middle of the night.”

“I live less than ten minutes away. I’ll be fine.”

“No, there’s night monsters out there roaming the streets looking for beautiful women. If you insist on going home then I’ll drive you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re in no condition to be driving anywhere.”

“Then I guess that means you’re staying. We’ll just sleep, I promise.”

“You swear?”

“Boy Scouts’ honor.” He put two fingers over his heart.

Maria snorted. “You were never a Boy Scout.”

“Shows what you know.” He took her hand and led her to his bedroom.

Fool that she was, she let him. After he pulled back the covers, he put his hands on the waist of his briefs, and she held up a hand. “Whoa. What’re you doing?”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Taking these off. I sleep in the nude.”

“Not tonight you don’t. Leave them on or I’m outta here.”

“Damn. Guess that means you’re sleeping in your clothes?”

She’d thrown on a T-shirt and shorts after his call. “The shirt and my panties are staying on.”

His body took a tumble into the bed, and he scooted under the covers, holding them up. “Come on then. If all we’re gonna do is sleep, let’s get to it.”

This really was a bad idea, but she unhooked her bra and slipped it and her shorts off before climbing in next to him. He pulled her against him, wrapped his arm around her waist, spooning her, and nuzzled her neck.

“Jake, stop it.”

“Not doing nothing, promise. You just smell so good. You always do.”

“Thank you. Now go to sleep.”

He chuckled and then went quiet. His arm was heavy on her body, but she liked it, liked how it felt to be snuggled up with him. It was like being in a safe cocoon where nothing could hurt her.

“You leave your car at Buck’s?”

She grabbed the hand inching its way past her stomach. “I thought you’d gone to sleep.”

“Almost there. Just wondering about Sally.”

Like she would leave her Mustang unprotected in a bar parking lot overnight. “Mrs. Jankowski dropped me off.”

He lifted on his elbow, leaned over her shoulder, and peered at her. “You told Mrs. Jankowski?”

There was hurt and anger in his voice. It obviously embarrassed him to think her foster mother knew he had to be driven home. “I told her you called, and I was meeting you for a few drinks.”

“Oh.” He plopped back down and nestled their bodies together to his satisfaction. “She won’t expect you home tonight?”

“Mrs. Jankowski isn’t my jailer, nor has she ever tried to be. I’m a big girl, and she trusts my judgment.”

“That’s good. The boss know you’re with me?”

“He stayed at the hospital with Dani tonight. Talked the nurses into putting a cot in her room.”

“That’s good, too. He’d probably kill me if he knew you were here. He makes damn cute babies though.”

“God, you’re a talkative drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Kay.”

And just like that, he did. She listened to his even breathing and fell asleep wondering what it’d be like to be with him every night, how they’d be as a couple.

Jake opened his eyes and stared at the strand of black hair wrapped around his hand. He lifted it to the pale light coming in the window—it looked damn familiar. Frowning, he brought it to his nose and sniffed.

Maria.

She lay on her stomach, her face buried in the pillow, but he didn’t need to see her to know. He could find her just by her scent in a dark room filled with a hundred women. Keeping her hair pressed to his nose, he tried to remember just how she’d come to be in his bed.

Snatches of the night before flowed through his mind. He’d gotten stinking drunk, something he never, ever did. He’d needed a ride home and Buck had said something about calling a friend. Had he called her?

Apparently, he had, but why was she in his bed? Had they done anything? No way. That, he would remember. So, why was she snuggled up next to him? Not that he minded. He rather liked waking up to find her there.

Easing onto his side, he slid the covers down to her thighs. Damn. If thong underwear wasn’t the best invention ever, he didn’t know what was. He leaned over her back and trailed his mouth over her skin, starting just below her neck and following the line of her spine down to her beautiful ass.

She moaned and turned over. Sleepy black eyes blinked at him. “Jake?”

“Shhhh. Let me love you.” He slipped his hand under her shirt and cupped a breast, flicking his thumb over the nipple.

“Are you still drunk?”

Had he made a fool of himself? “Yeah, I’m drunk on you.” He was so hard for her, his cock wanted out of his briefs, needed to be inside her. Now.

Puzzled, he lifted the cover and peeked at himself. Why did he have underwear on?

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. If he’d been a total ass, the last thing she’d want was to make love to him. Until he figured out if he had something to apologize for, he should keep his hands off her. Not to mention his mouth tasted like something had died in it—she’d probably gag if he tried to kiss her.