Various States of Undress (18 page)

Jake’s heart soared when he saw it, and realized that his face must have betrayed his reaction, because she stared at him, her lovely eyes full of wonder.
Now
would be a good time to tell her that he loved her, wouldn’t it? But what would that accomplish besides make their parting a hell of a lot harder than it was going to be, anyway? They hadn’t come to any understanding, although she’d tried. But he’d resisted because what she suggested—that both of them completely change their lives—was an all or nothing proposition. Because of who both of them were, there was no way they could continue as is and have a public relationship.

He didn’t say a word, and eventually she looked down. To cover the awkward silence, he kissed her swiftly.

“Let’s stay in,” he whispered.

O
N
M
ONDAY MORNING,
Carolina sat on the sofa, staring at her laptop screen. All of the photos she’d shot the day before were playing in slide-show mode, and she smiled watching as the most perfect days of her life unfolded in front of her.

For the entire weekend, they’d done nothing but talk, eat, play in the snow, and of course, spend plenty of time in bed. And though neither of them had mentioned love after that frozen—yet completely hot—moment on Saturday morning, there had been more love shared between them than there was snow covering the valley outside the cabin. In silent moments in front of the fire, in shared meals, in mutual wonder of the sun melting behind the glacier-capped mountains, it had been perfect. This morning was perfect, too, except for one thing—Courtney was due to arrive today.

Carolina refused to think about that right now. Jake was doing the dishes, she was looking at photos, and nothing should mar their happiness. If she started to get anxious, she was certain that he would too. She would just have to think of something to distract them both.

“Wow,” she whispered as a particularly handsome shot of a grinning Jake filled her screen. Another one followed, this time a close-up of his angular face in profile. His eyes were fixed on a distant point and his jaw was shadowed by stubble.
So
gorgeous. She sighed. “Oh, God. I can’t take it.”

“What?” he said.

He stood in the kitchen and she glanced up, still smiling. “You’re too hot.”

She watched as Jake whipped a dish towel over his shoulder and rested his hands on his hips.

“You think so, huh?”

She allowed her blatant gaze to eat him up from head to toe—the handsome haircut, the strong jaw, the bare shoulders . . . oh God . . . the snug jeans, the powerful thighs . . .

“I’m hot? Even with this?” Jake twirled the flowered dish towel in the air.

She laughed. “Especially with that.”

He picked up a ruffled pink potholder and caressed it. “How about this?”

“Uh, no. The towel’s sexier.”

Jake dropped the towel and potholder onto the counter and walked forward, purposefully shoving his hands into his pockets, forcing his jeans to dip dangerously low in the front. “Why is the towel sexier?”

She gazed at Jake’s fly. “Well, I was going to say that you could
wear
the towel, but I may have to reconsider that idea. I don’t think it would . . . fit.”

“I hope to hell not.” Jake reached down and threaded his fingers through her hair, circling a thumb on the back of her neck. A delicious shiver ran down her spine. “Carolina. You’re doing it again.”

“What’s that?” She licked her bottom lip.

“Seducing me.”

She gasped. “I’m not doing anything but sitting here.”

“Sitting there and looking at me . . . with that look.” He reached across her shoulder and shut the laptop. Then he climbed behind her on the sofa, tugging until her back rested against his chest. “You interested in . . . helping me unmake the bed?”

She sighed. “That’s a given and you know it.” Reaching up, she ran her palm down his strong forearm where it laid on the back of the sofa, stretching her fingers until they twined with his. She paused, gazing at where they were joined, acutely aware of his hot, sweet breath on her neck—realizing that this might be the last time she would be able to do something as simple as hold his hand.

It wasn’t fair. Why did it have to be over? Just because he refused to entertain a future different from his present? But his present wasn’t what he thought it was . . . not anymore. Not after the past few days. Would he
ever
allow himself to realize that? Or would he just keep plodding resolutely along—doing his job, defending people, always alert to everything except his own feelings?

“Mmm,” Jake’s voice rumbled near her ear. “I sense some hesitation.”

“Never,” she whispered. “I could never not want you.”

His breath stilled.

“Jake . . .”

“We still have time,” he said gruffly.

Damn. She’d wanted to keep today—or what they had of it—light. But she also wanted to make him see reason. She wanted him to . . . what? Profess undying love and whisk her off to a deserted island?

“I know we still have time.” She squeezed his hand and nestled her cheek against his bare chest. “How . . . how much time?”

Jake wrapped an arm around her middle. “I haven’t received a call yet, but they’ll probably get here after lunch.”

“They?”

“Courtney and a fresh agent.” His voice was cautious. “I’ve been on duty for about two weeks straight, honey. I don’t want to be anywhere but with you, but my boss will force me to take a break.”

She sucked in a breath, immediately cursing herself for not remembering that fact. Agents rotated, and Jake had worked straight through his days off.

“Oh, God.” It was all she could muster as a response.

“You know if there was any logical way I could stay, I would.” He gathered her closer.

She nodded, and despite the warmth of his arms, an emptiness began to grow in her middle. It spread, squeezing her heart, shortening her breath, thickening her throat.

“We still have time,” he repeated in an urgent whisper.

Her heart broke a little at the pain in his voice and as his hands began to caress her breasts, she stilled them. No. It was too painful—and what they’d shared needed to remain a beautiful memory. She didn’t want to remember this—making love to him in desperation, making love to him through a haze of tears.

Taking a shuddering breath, she raised his hand to her lips and pressed a reverent kiss on his palm. “I can’t,” she whispered back. “You understand?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, but then turned her in his arms until she faced him. His eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “I understand.”

Though her chin wobbled, she attempted a smile. “You know what today is?”

“What?” He wiped at his eyes quickly and returned her smile.

“It’s April first.”

“Yeah, and?”

She shrugged. “I’m just giving you fair warning.”

“Oh, honey.” He laughed. “You think you’re actually going to be able to surprise me with an April Fools’ trick?”

She stared at him a moment in disbelief and then shook her head. “Like I said, fair warning.”

“Fine. I’ll let you attempt to surprise me. You better come up with something quick, though. Courtney—”

“I know,” she cut him off quickly. “I don’t want to talk about it, so don’t mention her name again.”

He smiled softly. “She’s a nice person.”

“I’m sure she is.” Carolina sighed. “Anyway . . . why don’t you go grab your long johns? We can get some fresh air.”

He groaned. “You mean go step into hell’s freezer?”

“Come on, Florida boy. It’s not that bad.” She smacked his arm and stood up, holding out her hand to him.

He took it, grumbling. “I don’t think it’s been above ten degrees the entire time we’ve been up here. Every time we come back inside the cabin I’m shocked that my crank hasn’t broken off.”

“Oh, it hasn’t.” She winked. “Go put on your gear.”

Still grumbling, he disappeared into the bedroom and Carolina sprang up, racing around her dad’s recliner. Slowly, she pulled Jake’s folded coat out from underneath the chair, careful not to rip the back of it, which was . . . spectacular.

She laid it face-up on the seat of the recliner and grabbed her own coat. When she was dressed for the snow, head to toe, she perched on the edge of the coffee table to wait. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Carolina?” Jake’s deep voice floated out from the bedroom.

“Yes?”

“I can’t find my coat.”

She suppressed a snicker and glanced over at the kitchen counter where her camera waited. “Oh . . . hang on . . . let me look.” She paused and crossed her legs. “Hmm. There it is! Found it.” She sprang up and grabbed the coat, holding the back of it to her chest.

Jake sauntered into the living room, his ski mask rolled up over his forehead. “Where was it?”

She shrugged and waved in the general direction of the recliner. “Over there.”

“Odd.” He frowned. “I usually don’t leave anything out of place. I wonder—”

“Well, you’ve been busy,” she cut him off quickly. “Here, let me help you. Turn around.”

Jake turned around obediently and slipped his arms into the sleeves. The fabric crackled a bit and she winced, coughing to cover the noise. “I sewed up the rip in the front for you.”

He turned around, taking off a glove to zip the coat to his scarf-covered neck. Awkwardly, he pressed against the puffy fabric and examined the zigzags of hot pink thread that she’d used to mend the place that had torn when he’d vaulted over the deck railing. “Thanks,” he said slowly. “It looks . . . cute.”

“I thought so.” She stuffed her hands into her gloves and giggled.

Jake narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing. Now let’s go. It’s not going to get warmer out there just because you’re stalling.”

Pulling down the ski mask, he heaved a sigh and pointed a glove at her. “Twenty minutes. I can’t take any more sub-zero fun time than that.”

She shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.” Grabbing her camera from the counter, she turned it on, waited for him to disarm the alarm and then followed him out onto the porch, grinning as she stared at his back. It was a masterpiece, and he was going to go ballistic when he realized what she’d done while he’d been sleeping.

The previous night, when Jake had been snoring softly, she’d sneaked up the stairs to the bedroom she’d shared years ago with her sisters and rummaged through the old chest in the corner, finding a huge box full of Justin Timberlake keepsakes. She, Virginia, and Georgia had been—and still were—fans, and there were plenty of treasures to choose from. She’d thought about using all of it, but simplicity always worked best when creating art, so she’d grabbed a needle, thread, and two large “I heart Justin patches”—and sewn them to the back of the shoulders of Jake’s nylon coat.

Then she’d cut up an old T-shirt that sported a spectacular photo of a shirtless Justin and after a round of giggles, she’d sewn that to the back of Jake’s coat, too, right in the center. Then she’d spent another thoroughly enjoyable hour making glittery felt letters that spelled out “Number One Fan”. She’d sewn those to the bottom. A few garish plastic gems scattered around the patches had completed the creation.

Now, as Jake stood on the porch, the glittery coat catching the sunlight like an Elvis cape, she lifted her camera and calmly squeezed off several shots.

Jake turned. “You’re taking pictures of the back of my head?”

“You’re attractive from all angles.” She smiled sweetly. “Now turn your head around and look over your shoulder.”

He did, but with a scowl.

“Come on Jake . . . give me that grin,” she coaxed, barely able to keep a straight face when he did as she asked. She nodded, snapping several more photos. “Raise an eyebrow. Now give me a thumbs-up.”

He did that too, and she couldn’t suppress the giggles any longer—her camera shook in her hands as she pushed the button. “Great. Just a couple more.”

“What’s so funny?” Jake craned his neck to look over his shoulder. “Did you put a ‘kick me’ sign on my back?”

“Would I do that?” She snorted.

“No. You’d be a lot more creative than that,” he answered dryly. ‘Which is what I’m afraid of.” He started unzipping his coat.

Carolina shrieked. “No, don’t look!”

“Oh, I’m going to look.”

“At least give me a head start.” She darted back into the cabin, placed the camera on the counter and ran back out, shrieking again as Jake pulled his arms from the sleeves of his coat.

She was down the steps and floundering through a snowdrift when he let out a roar. Snorting, she plodded on, glancing over her shoulder at him. “April Fools!” she called out between giggles.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” he yelled out from the porch. Shrugging back into the coat, he started down the steps.

“You can’t,” she yelled in return. “You’re my Secret Service agent.”

“Watch me.” He ate up the distance between them and she gasped, still laughing, holding her hands out in defense.

Jake bypassed her hands easily and grabbed her around the middle. “There’s no security surveillance inside the bedroom. I think I’ll tickle you to death in there.” He picked her up and began to wade back the way he’d come.

“Tickle me with what?” she asked breathlessly, not even bothering to struggle.

He stopped in his tracks and shot her a wicked grin. “Peanut butter. All. Over. My. Hands.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God. I hate peanut butter!”

“Yeah. I guess you never should have told me that.” With a wink, he deposited her on the steps and she ran inside, screeching, heading straight for the bathroom.

After slamming and locking the door, she folded her arms and waited. Her breath came in gasps and the giggles that had started a few minutes earlier wouldn’t stop. “Kiss my ass, Jake!” she called out.

“My pleasure.” His voice came from just outside the door, and she let out a yelp.

“How did you manage to get there so fast?”

“I’m your Secret Service agent, remember?” He laughed and rattled the doorknob. “Oh, I see how you are. Count to ten. By the time you finish, you, me, and a jumbo-sized jar of Peter Pan will be getting really cozy.”

“Count to ten? Why?” She took a few steps back and retreated into the shower. “Are you going to break the door down?”