A Man to Believe In (5 page)

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Authors: Deborah Harmse

BOOK: A Man to Believe In
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He nodded and popped a french fry into his mouth. “Maybe so, but Marsha warned me about you.”

“Marsha? What did she say?”

“We had a nice long chat after you … 
left
the party last night,” he replied, neatly sidestepping her question.

A chat with Marsha. Cori closed her eyes briefly, thinking she should have seen this coming. How else would Marsha have been able to provide the wealth of information she’d relayed this morning if she hadn’t gone right to the source? “You did, huh?”

“Uh-huh. Marsha’s very talkative once you get her going. But I suppose you already know that.”

Pushing aside her plate, Cori drew her lips into a tight smile. “A very friendly person, my former friend Marsha. What did she have to say?”

Jake leaned back and stretched his long legs under the table, his thigh brushing against her knee. The casual contact set off a tingling shock that reached clear to her throat.

Cori drew in a steadying breath and acknowledged a fact she’d been trying to ignore all morning. Though the man was annoying, even irritating at times, she found him attractive. She also suspected it was more than mere physical attraction. He was gentle and caring. And darned dangerous, she decided.

“Well,” he began slowly, rubbing his jaw as if he were trying to recall his conversation with Marsha. “She told me you’re twenty-nine years old, that you’ve worked at the library since you graduated from college, and that you’re on the brink of opening your own business. A bookstore, she said.”

Cori nodded as he revealed each piece of information. Pretty harmless stuff so far. Not at all like Marsha. She made a hurry-up motion with one hand. “And …”

“She said you wouldn’t be interested in dating me on a steady basis. On
any
basis, actually,” he added quietly, fastening his sapphire gaze to hers.

She clenched a fist beneath the table.
Way to go, Marsha
. “She’s right, you know.”

A feeling of dread washed over Cori at the grin on his face. He wouldn’t be sitting here having lunch with her if that was all Marsha had said to him. “Okay, out with it. What else did she tell you?”

She waited patiently while Jake wiped his mouth with his napkin, tossed it on his plate, and pushed the dish away.

“Marsha told me most of the guys you date are real nerds and that she thought I’d be good for you. Naturally, I agreed.”

Boiling oil, Cori decided instantly. She’d boil the woman in oil until she was as crisp as a potato chip, then crunch her up and spread her over the top of a tuna casserole and feed her to her cat.

Chuckling at the look of dismay on Cori’s face, Jake reached out and covered her hand with his. Her skin felt smooth under his callused palm. For a moment he imagined how it would feel when his hands skimmed lightly over the rest of her, how her silky hair would tickle his chest when she leaned over to brush her lips against his. Instantly, his stomach tightened with desire. He pushed the feeling away, forcing himself to remember they were in a public place. And that he hardly knew her.

“Don’t be too hard on your friend,” he suggested, his troublesome imagination once again under control. “I got the impression she said that because she cares for you and wants to see you happy.”

Cori pulled her hand from his and wrapped it around her iced tea glass, its cold wetness a welcome shock after the disturbing warmth of his fingers. “She could see me grin from ear to ear if she would keep her mouth shut once in a while. Like last night, for instance.”

“She tried to,” he admitted quietly. “I sort of forced her to tell me all she knew about you.”

Cori lifted her glass and peered at him over the rim. “You’re big on coercion, aren’t you?” Jake shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “The Godfather could use a man with your style.”

Jake didn’t even try not to laugh. Even though the joke was on him, he enjoyed it. That was one of the things he’d liked about Cori from the start—her sense of humor. Then he noticed she wasn’t smiling, that she was serious, and he realized there was a lot of truth to what she said. He’d been using strong-arm tactics since the moment he’d met her, first at the party, and then today, when he’d marched into the library as if he owned the place. Lord, if some guy had come on like that to one of his sisters, he would have flattened the jerk.

“I really have been awful, haven’t I?” he admitted, hoping it wasn’t too late to change her opinion of him. “Give me a chance to make it up to you.” He fished the ballet tickets from his pocket and slid them over to her. “Let me take you to the ballet. We won the tickets together, remember?”

She glanced at the expensive tickets, then over at Jake, wondering how a guy who appeared to need to be in control of every situation had allowed himself to be maneuvered into
this
situation so easily. Surely he could see this for what it was.

“Jake,” she began patiently, “you look like a reasonably intelligent man.”

“Why, Cori, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Undaunted by his amused grin and the easy way he’d fielded her backhanded compliment, she decided
to press home her point. “By now you’ve probably figured out what happened here.” Jake raised a questioning brow, but Cori suspected he knew exactly what she was getting at. “She’ll deny it, I’m sure, but Marsha arranged this whole thing. Just to force you to take me out on a date.”

She sat back and waited for his outraged response, hoping his aversion to having friends meddle in his social life equaled her own.

Jake leaned forward, shooting a glance to his right, then to his left. “I have a confession to make.” His eyes darted around once more before he appeared satisfied that their conversation was indeed private. “No one has ever had to
force
me to go out with a beautiful woman.”

The compliment, tucked inside a joke but delivered with complete sincerity, melted what was left of Cori’s resistance.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that her strong attraction to him threatened to unravel the layers of protection she’d been building around herself for years. For the first time in a long time she was thoroughly enjoying a man’s company. She’d tried hard to resist her feelings, but she couldn’t. And now she didn’t know if she wanted to.

When she was near Jake, a warm glow spread through her, and it felt nice, really nice. She found his smile infectious, his ability to laugh at himself refreshing. And even though he had an aggressive streak that irritated the heck out of her, she couldn’t help admiring him.

At a time when his friends were probably well on
their way to becoming members of the so-called “me generation,” Jake had been putting his family’s welfare before his own. It couldn’t have been easy helping to raise younger sisters when he’d still been a child himself. Cori didn’t hear any resentment or bitterness in his voice about that either.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she took a spare napkin and jotted down her address. She was probably making too big a deal about one little date anyway. The man wasn’t asking her to take him home and keep him. He was asking her to spend an evening—one evening—at her favorite ballet. She’d be crazy to pass this up. She slid the napkin over to him.

“Okay, Jake. You’ve got yourself a date for the ballet.”

“Great.” Jake smiled, wondering if he dared ask her to have dinner with him sometime before the day of the performance. After all, it was two weeks away, and right then it seemed more like two months.

“We’d better be getting back,” she said. “It’s almost one o’clock.”

He handed Cori the tickets. “For safekeeping,” he informed her, and signaled for the check.

They made the short trip back to the library in silence. A few minutes later Jake eased the big truck into a parking space near the door. He switched off the engine and turned to face her, resting his arm on the back of the seat behind her.

“How about I pick you up at six-thirty?”

“That sounds fine.” She reached for the door, but when she tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge.

Jake pulled his arm out from behind her and leaned across the cab to help her. As he did, his arm brushed against her breast.

Cori froze.

Her head down, she focused her eyes on his hand as he gripped the door handle, refusing to look at him. If she did, he would see what the innocent contact had done to her. Then she realized he hadn’t moved either. His arm, firm and warm, still rested against her breast. The inside of the truck suddenly seemed twenty degrees hotter.

Finally, Jake let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. With his other hand he placed two fingers on her chin, then turned her head so that she would have to look at him. Her lips were close, so close. He wanted to kiss her, wanted it more than anything he’d wanted in a long, long time. So why didn’t he just do it?

Because his instincts told him he’d be making a big mistake if he did. The look in her eyes said she wanted it as much as he did, but he saw a wariness there too, and it warned him off.

His grandfather had always advised him to listen to the God-given instincts he’d been born with. So far, it had been good advice. If she needed time to accept what was happening between them, he would give it to her. But it would be one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.

Reluctantly, he sat back and released her, remembering that his grandfather had also advised him to learn some patience. More good advice, and he knew that if he’d listened to the old man on that account a
long time ago, he wouldn’t be having such a hard time right now.

“That door sticks sometimes,” he said when he finally spoke. “I’ll open it from the outside.”

He made himself get out of the truck, go around, and open the door. The simple activity gave him the time he needed to gain control of himself. It also gave him time to make a decision: He’d find a way to be patient for a little while—but he’d be damned if he’d wait two full weeks before seeing her again.

Three

“I could put the mysteries over here.” With the tip of her pencil Cori tapped the section next to the one slated for hardcover reference. “Do you think that will work?”

In response, her cat yawned. Sleeping in the sunshine had always been one of Max’s favorite activities, and today was catnap perfect. A mild Santa Ana weather condition had brought warm breezes to Southern California, and, with it, eighty-degree temperatures. Cori had moved her project outside to take advantage of the unexpected heat wave.

“No, not enough room there. Anyway, I need to find a way to put the mysteries over here with the other genre fiction.” For several minutes she studied the detailed sketch she’d made of the layout for her bookstore, then shook her head. “This would be a whole lot easier to figure out if you wouldn’t squat
down right in the middle of the floor plan.” Gently, she nudged the cat out of the way.

Evidently insulted by her remark, Max resettled his furry frame on the far corner of the picnic table until he faced the giant oak tree, his back turned to her and her drawing.

Cori managed to ignore the insult, though her usual patience was wearing thin. She’d been working on the floor plan revisions for an hour and still hadn’t come up with a solution to her problem, which was why she was so frustrated. The carpenters were slightly behind schedule—nothing to worry about, they assured her—and planned on taking several more days to finish constructing the bookcases. But by then she had to have the layout finalized so she could start stocking the shelves with the inventory she’d been storing in her one-car garage for several weeks now.

More determined than ever to finish her project, she rapped her pencil against the edge of the wooden table and considered the possibility of squeezing gift books and art history together on one gondola. That just might solve the problem created when she’d ended up with less floor space than she’d anticipated. Next, she tried to focus her attention on the center floor displays. Instead, her mind conjured up a pair of serious blue eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes. She tossed down her pencil.

“Damn.”

It had been over a week since she’d last seen Jake, but his image was crystal-clear in her mind, his ability to shatter her concentration as annoying as
ever. Frustration getting the best of her, she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. The intensity of the sun warmed her face, and she closed her eyes, wondering what it was about this man that distracted her so easily.

She skipped over the obvious—good looks and charm—knowing with certainty that no man could keep her attention for longer than a minute if he had to rely solely on superficial charisma. And while plenty of uninhibited laughter and a few clever comebacks had made their lunch together fun, Jake’s quick wit and sense of humor couldn’t begin to account for the effect he’d had on her life.

In an amazingly short amount of time he’d managed to cause her sleepless nights and restless days; he’d aroused curiosity about “her new beau” among her fellow workers at the library—to the point where she dreaded going into the break room for fear of being accosted with more questions about that gorgeous hunk who’d visited her last week. And though she’d tried her best to discourage him, he’d gotten her to agree to go out with him—twice.

Worst of all, he’d stirred up emotional—and sexual—feelings she’d been successfully suppressing for quite some time.

No doubt about it, the man was trouble.

And she would never finish the job at hand if she didn’t stop thinking about him. As it was, she’d already spent more than enough time speculating about the man. More determined than ever to forget him, she picked up her pencil and forced her attention back to her drawing.

Awhile later the sound of an engine broke her concentration once again.

Startled, Max jumped down from the table and disappeared through the hedge into the neighbor’s yard. Cori looked up in time to see a familiar mud-encrusted truck pull into the driveway.

“Speak of the devil,” she muttered, watching Jake as he climbed from the pickup and shut the door. She should have been surprised to see him, but she wasn’t. She was excited.

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