Someone Like Her (27 page)

The little conniver was speaking perfect English now. Amused in spite of himself, Jake raised a brow. “Your point is?”

The boy lifted his chin in a gesture of pride, one of the best Jake had ever witnessed. “My point is,
sir
, I know where I’m going. Most of them don’t. Mr. Bayne was helping them, but he’s gone now. What are you going to do about that?”

Buying time to answer, he said, “Satisfy my curiosity, Rudy. Exactly where are you going?”

“I’m going to be a SEAL, just like Mr. Bayne. You have a problem with that, sir?”

Jake searched for the right thing to say. This kid didn’t have a clue what it took to be a SEAL, but who was he to steal a dream? “Can’t say I have a problem with it. Just not sure what you want from me.”

The boy stared at his shuffling feet. “Thing is, sir, I don’t know how to swim. Mr. Bayne was going to teach me, but now he can’t. Will you?”

Double shit. “What’re you doing Saturday after next, kid?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I
t’s like deja vu all over again,” Maria grumbled.

Logan smirked. “I think Yogi Berra beat you to that one, brat.”

“Whatever. Where is he?”

“Who, Yogi Berra?”

She glared at her brother. “Don’t be stupid, Logan.” The question was getting old. Jake had disappeared,
again
, without a word. Not one word, note, text, or call. Should she be worried? When she’d dropped him off after going to the boys’ club, he hadn’t invited her in, claiming he needed to make some calls. Thinking he just wanted some time alone, she hadn’t pushed him. Logan smirked in a way that said he knew things she didn’t. Gah, she just hated that.

“I already told you, he’s doing something for me.”

“What? I know you wouldn’t send him on an operation without telling me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Would you?”

Leaning against the doorway to her office, his arms crossed over his chest, he gave her a loud, manly sigh. “No, and he wouldn’t take off on one without telling you.”

Well, she knew that, or was pretty sure she did. “So why all the secrecy?”

“Give it a rest, Maria. He’ll be here in time for your date Saturday night. Insisted he had to be back by then.”

That was encouraging, but it still didn’t give her a clue where he’d gone. “Go away. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

When he laughed and turned to walk away, she threw a pen at his back. She’d settled into a routine of work during the day and helping with baby Evan and Regan at night, trying to give her brother and sister-in-law some alone time.

Work was turning out to be as satisfying as she’d hoped. One thing she’d worried about was Logan being willing to turn over the business side of the company when she came on board full-time as they’d discussed when she’d first entered law school. Turned out, he was more than happy to dump all the accounting, payroll, supply ordering, and other miscellaneous responsibilities in her lap. As she worked on setting up the accounting records to her satisfaction, she decided it was a good thing she’d minored in economics.

Their long-term plan for K2 was to branch out into international law as soon as she passed the bar, advising and consulting with companies wanting to expand their overseas business. Once she had the financial side of the business set up the way she wanted, she’d hire a manager to oversee it and then turn her attention to what she loved best—the law.

She would be the happiest girl in the world if someone would just tell her where Jake was. As for the little tug of regret she felt in her heart that she hadn’t found her father after all, she did her best to ignore it. Some things just weren’t meant to be.

Her stomach rumbled as she leaned back in her chair and stretched her aching shoulders. “No wonder I’m hungry,” she muttered when she glanced at the clock to see it was coming up on one.

Jamie walked by her office door. He’d do. “Jamie.”

He backed up and stuck his head inside. “Yeah?”

“Let’s go get some lunch.” Actually, a good idea. Maybe she could get some answers from him.

“I already ate.”

She grabbed her purse and stood. “Then you can watch me eat.”

“Would it do any good if I said I’m busy right now?”

“Nope.” Ignoring his sigh, she walked past him. Men really loved sighing. Why was that? “C’mon, I’ll let you drive Sally.” He loved driving her souped-up Mustang, so it was a good bribe.

Over a smothered burrito, Maria grilled Jamie. “I didn’t get a chance to ask Jake where he was off to before he left. Where’d he go?”

“Don’t know,” he said between bites of the small appetizer of nachos he’d ordered.

“I’m not buying that. Jake wouldn’t just take off without telling you where he was going, considering you’re second in command until he returns.”

Leaning back, he stretched his arms over the back of the booth. “If the boss or Jake wanted you to know, they’d have told you.” He rolled his eyes. “You can give me that pouty look all day, Maria, but it won’t work.”

“I really hate not knowing something, which has been happening a lot recently.” She stuffed a forkful of burrito into her mouth. These ex-SEALs were tight-lipped when it came to their secrets, and even if she tortured him—right now, an appealing thought—she’d get nothing from him.

“Listen,” he said and leaned toward her. “What you want to know, it’s not my place to tell you, but everything will be all right, I promise.”

He did know something. She pushed her empty plate to the side. “You don’t have to tell me what he’s doing, just where he is.”

“No can do. You done? I need to get back.”

“Okay, but I’m driving.” She had a little detour in mind.

When there was no answer to her knock on Jake’s door, she turned to Jamie. “It was worth a try.”

“If you’d asked, I coulda told you he wasn’t here.”

“No, you would’ve just said, ‘I know nothing and that’s the story I’m sticking to.’ Am I wrong?” His answer was a shrug.

The door of the next condo opened. “Well, hey. You looking for Jake?”

“Hi, Sugar. Yeah, seen him lately?”

“A day or two ago.” Her gaze slid past Maria and her eyes lit up. “Well, hello handsome. Are you a SEAL like Jake? I mean, with all those sexy muscles, you must be.”

“Ex-SEAL,” Jamie said, an edge to his voice.

Well, that was interesting. Maria would’ve thought Sugar was the kind of woman a man would trip over his feet to get to know better.

“I’m Sugar Darling. Pleased to meet you.”

Her gaze was locked on Jamie and when he didn’t offer his name, Maria decided to be helpful. “This is Jamie Turner. Saint, to his friends.”

“Really?” Sugar eyed him from head to toe and back up. “Please tell me it’s one of those opposite things. You know, they call him Saint ’cause he’s anything but.”

“Sorry, he really is a saint.”

“Now that’s just too damn bad.”

Jamie snorted. “If her name’s really Sugar Darling, I’ll eat my combat boots.”

Whoa, what was with him? Jamie was usually a role model for how a man should treat a woman. Always polite, considerate, and seemingly interested in whatever they had to say, although that didn’t seem to be the case with Sugar.

Sugar grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Guess you’re gonna have to eat those boots, lover boy. Name really is Sugar. Says so right on my birth certificate. Wanna see it?”

“Don’t call me ‘lover boy,’ and no, I don’t want to see your birth certificate. Let’s go, Maria.”

“I think he likes me,” Sugar said after Jamie walked away.

Maria thought he did, too, but also that he’d let someone pull his fingernails out with pliers before he’d admit it.

The girl sighed. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

“Not at the moment.” Maria groped in her purse for her cell phone, pulled it out, and clicked on contacts. “What’s your number? Maybe I’ll try to arrange something.”

“I hope so. I’d really like to see him again.”

“You owe me big time,” Jamie said when she slid into the driver’s seat.

“Crapola.” She reached over and squeezed the muscled arm Sugar had drooled over. “Admit it, you were intrigued.”

Jamie snorted. “Not even.”

“Liar.”

As she backed the car out of the parking space, she glanced at Jake’s door.
Where are you, Jake?

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

J
ake tugged at his collar for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour as he watched Maria eat her dessert. And for the same number of times, he thanked his lucky stars he had a job where he didn’t have to wear a tie. He was nervous as hell for a lot of reasons.

Planning dates wasn’t his forte, and special ones? Never done it. There was so much riding on this night and how Maria would react, but that part was for later. He’d chosen an upscale Italian restaurant, a place where they could dress up, and she would like the food.

At the moment, she was licking the last of the chocolate gelato off her spoon, and if she didn’t stop moaning and put that pink tongue back in her mouth, he was going to take her on top of the table, audience be damned.

He subtly readjusted himself, then tugged on his shirt collar again. The two dozen roses he’d held out when she’d answered the door had delighted her. The lasagna had disappeared from her plate, and the gelato had been devoured to sounds that had him hard and aching. A success so far, but there was still a big surprise to come and he wasn’t sure what her reaction would be.

She set her spoon down. “That was delicious.”

“You’re delicious. And beautiful.” Her almost-black hair hung down her back and over her shoulders, looking soft and glossy. The red silk dress hugged her curves, and he’d already glared at two men who’d eyed her in appreciation.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile that was both sweet and sexy. “You’re not so bad yourself, Tiger. You wear a suit very well.”

“You don’t think I’m handsome in jeans and a T-shirt?” he asked, teasing her.

“I think you’re hot no matter what you’re wearing . . . or not wearing.”

That did it. “Check,” he called when the waiter passed. If he didn’t get them out of the place, he really would do something to embarrass her.

“So where were you?”

He grinned. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. What did I say the last ten times you asked?”

“That you’d tell me when it’s time.”

Her lips formed an adorable little pout, drawing his attention to them. “I need to kiss you.”

“Will that get me a bigger tip?”

When had the waiter appeared? Maria burst into laughter, and pressed her napkin against her mouth. “Funny,” he said, keeping a straight face.

“I thought so,” the waiter quipped, giving Maria a wink.

Jake tsked. “Winking at my woman? There went any hope of a tip.” After signing the check, and leaving a generous tip, he walked Maria out, his hand possessively at her back.

At his car, he pressed her against the door and braced his arms on either side of her head. “I really do need to kiss you.” He lowered his mouth and brushed his lips over hers, a soft teasing touch. Then a little nibble at one corner of her mouth before moving to the other side. What he wanted was to thrust his tongue into her mouth and see if she tasted like wine and gelato, but he resisted, or tried to, until her lips parted.

God, yes, she did taste like dessert. He’d been gone for four days and all he’d thought about was coming home to her. And kissing her. And making love to her. And waking up in the mornings and making love to her again.

She rubbed against his erection, and he reluctantly broke the kiss. There were still things on his list he had to do before he could claim her once and for all. The evening had been planned out in his mind from the moment he’d visualized it, and as he drove to the beach, he listened to her sing along to the love songs playing on the radio. She had a surprisingly good voice, one that reminded him a little of Stevie Nicks, all throaty and sexy as hell.

That was something he hadn’t known about her, or that she would know the words to every song that came on. How much more about her was there to discover? She was a gift, one he wanted to tear the wrapping from in a frenzy and, at the same time, slowly peel the layers back, building the anticipation of discovering the surprise inside.

Her fingers danced over his thigh to the beat of the music as she sang along with Foreigner. Although he hadn’t realized it, he had been waiting for a girl like her all his life. Even though he’d fought it, some part of him had always known she was the one.

His skin rippled under the press of her palm on his leg. The urge to grab her hand and press it over his cock, aching for her touch, almost had him doing it. But that would be kind of crude, and he wanted tonight to be romantic and special. As if reading his mind, her fingers brushed over his erection and he jerked against the confines of his briefs.

“You’re killing me, Maria.” The smile she gave him was seductive and knowing. The little witch knew exactly the effect she had on him.

“I hope so.”

At the beach, he pulled into a public parking space. “Take off your shoes.” He removed his coat, tie, and socks, then rolled up his pant legs. Opening her door for her, he offered his hand to help her out.

“I used to run around barefoot as a kid and not even notice little stones,” she said as she gingerly walked over the pavement.

“We all did, I think.” He sighed in pleasure when his feet stepped onto still-warm, sugary sand. The moon was two or three days from full and cast a ribbon of yellow light across the Gulf. The waves were gentle, a rhythmic splash over the shore, and the breeze was soft against his face.

A perfect night for telling a woman he loved her.

Slipping his hand around hers, he listened to the sound of the surf as they strolled along the hard-packed, wet sand. She seemed content with the silence between them, but he wasn’t fooled. The question she’d asked almost a dozen times already was on the tip of her tongue, and he could sense the tension in her body.

Both he and Kincaid had made his trip such a secret that she couldn’t help but wonder what they were hiding from her. Each time she’d asked, he had said he would tell her when the time was right, and he was pretty sure she suspected he’d brought her to the beach to tell her something she wouldn’t like. Whether or not she would like it remained to be seen, but he thought—hoped—she would.

“You’re stalling,” she said. “Are you going on another dangerous mission? Is that what all the secrecy’s about? I finally decided you went to Washington to get briefed on something so top secret that they’d cut both your tongues out if either of you talked about it. Either that, or you’ve been in Tallahassee dealing with something to do with Fortunada, and you didn’t want to upset me by telling me.”

Jake grinned. Did he know his woman or what? Stopping, he turned to face her, cradling her face with his palms. “Wrong to both, Chiquita.” He kissed her then, and when she went all soft against him and circled his neck with her arms, he groaned and deepened the kiss.

This was different from the other times they’d kissed. Whether it was because he wanted her to feel his love for her, he didn’t know—just knew this was the woman he would always want in his arms. The only one.

Lifting his head, he stared down at her a moment. The time had come, and he wished his heart would stop trying to pound its way out of his chest. His lungs felt like bellows, and he was afraid the words would get tangled up with the air he was trying to breathe and nothing would come out of his mouth.

Do it and do it right, Buchanan.
He dropped to his knees and pressed one of her hands between his. Tilting his head, he looked up at her.

“I love you, Maria Kincaid. Will you marry me?”

Amazing. He hadn’t even stuttered over the words. He had a moment of panic when she didn’t immediately answer. Then she fell to her knees in front of him, tears streaming down her face, and plastered herself against him.

“Yes, oh, yes, I’ll marry you, Jake Buchanan.” She leaned away and looked at him, and he felt as if she were peering into his soul, so intense was her gaze. “I thought I’d lost you after you came home. It hurt so bad.” She thumped her heart with her fist. “Here.”

When her tears turned to sobs, Jake held the woman he loved, the one who owned his heart, body, and soul, and made a promise. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll never treat you like that again. I thought . . . It doesn’t matter what I thought, I was wrong.”

“Yeah, you were,” she said, and rubbed her face over the sleeve of his shirt.

Well, now he knew it was love because he didn’t mind at all that she’d wiped her nose on his clothes. He found her mouth and tasted the salt from her tears as he kissed her. “Forgive me?” he asked when they finally came up for air.

“This time. Next time you won’t be so lucky.”

“There won’t be a next time, I promise.” A wave crashed over their legs. “You’re going to ruin your dress.”

“I don’t care.”

“That’s all fine and good, but do you love me?” She’d told him before, but that seemed a hundred years ago, and he needed to hear her say the words again.

“I love you. I do. I love who you are and everything you stand for. I love your hair; your eyebrows; your beautiful eyes; the muscles that flex in your arms, making me drool; your toes; your—”

“I get the picture,” he said, laughing from pure joy. “Are you sure you don’t care if you ruin your dress?”

“This dress is up for anything tonight. Why?”

“This is why.” He put his arms around her waist and turned her with him onto the sand. As they lay on their backs staring up at a sky lit up with millions of stars twinkling like diamonds on black velvet, he entwined his fingers with hers and brought her hand up, placing a kiss on each of her knuckles.

For so long, he’d gone along thinking he was happy with his life, with the numerous women he’d taken to his bed, refusing to acknowledge there was something missing. He’d thought he could never settle on one woman, would never be able to make that kind of commitment. Never had he been so glad to learn he’d been wrong.

If there wasn’t one more thing he had to tell her, he’d cover her with his body and make love to her as the waves rolled over them. But there was, and any loving would have to wait. He lifted onto his elbow and picked up a strand of her hair, now damp from the wet sand.

“Cold?” he asked as he wound the curl around his finger.

“No, but now that you love me, I’m thinking you should tell me where you went.”

Damn, if she didn’t make him want to grin like a lovesick puppy. “I was wondering how long it would take you to ask again. How would you like to honeymoon in San Diego?”

“Don’t tell me you were scouting out honeymoon locations.”

Her feet were flat on the sand, her knees up, the bottom of the silky red dress draped around her upper thighs. Dark brown hair was spread out over the sand, and the moo
n hanging overhead was reflected in her eyes. She looked like a goddess come to earth, and he wanted to bury himself inside her, grounding her to this plane so she’d never leave.

“You’re so beautiful, Maria. If we could arrange for food delivery, I think I could spend my life right here just looking at you.”

“And I’d look right back at you, but what’s this about honeymooning in San Diego? Why there?”

“You have a one-track mind, Chiquita, but to answer your question, we should honeymoon there so you can meet your father.”

Maria ceased to feel the chill she’d lied to Jake about. Being cold, ruining an expensive new dress, and getting sand into various crevices meant nothing when the man she loved had asked her to marry him. This, she hadn’t expected.

“What?” She sat up. “What did you just say?”

“I found your father . . . I should probably say I’m ninety-nine percent sure I did.”

“That’s where you’ve been? Why? How do you know for certain? Is it Miguel Garcia? He’s the one who lives in San Diego. What did—”

He put his finger over her lips. “Easy, Chiquita. Did you know Chiquita means baby? I didn’t until a few days ago. I just called you that because I liked the sound of it, but now it has meaning. Are you mad? I’d hoped—”

“Stop it, Jake. You’re rambling like Professor Lumaris, and I always found him annoying. No, I’m not mad.” She pressed her hand against her chest. “I swear, my heart’s beating faster than a racehorse at the end of a race. Start at the beginning and tell me what possessed you to take off to San Diego and why you believe Garcia’s my father.”

He lowered his head and seemed to gather himself, then lifted his gaze to hers. “I don’t know if it’s occurred to you that you’ll have to testify against Fortunada when he goes to trial.”

It wasn’t something they’d talked about, but for sure it was something she’d thought about, although she’d been unwilling to share with him or Logan the sick feeling it gave her. If she had, she wouldn’t have put it past either one of them to find a way to make it appear her maybe-father had twisted his sheets into a rope and then hung himself. She could not—and would not—put that burden on either of them.

“Go on,” she said, refusing to reveal what she’d thought.

“It was something I couldn’t stop thinking about. If there was a chance you could take that witness stand and look the bastard in the eye, knowing he wasn’t your father, and put him away for good, then I was determined to make that happen.”

Only a few minutes ago, he’d told her he loved her. But those words hadn’t come as close to proving it as what he’d taken it upon himself to do. The hope of knowing her father, that she’d decided to banish, blossomed against her will. She didn’t want to be disappointed again, didn’t want to resurrect an impossible dream.