Pieces of Broken Time (9 page)

The scent of hazelnut wafted into the living room, followed by a beeping sound.

He brought his mind back where it should be and leaned against the sofa, trying his best to look relaxed. His breath caught in his throat as her full form stopped a few feet away—the exact range to catch every single one of her features in perfect focus.

Although she seemed to have lost weight, she still had one of those knockout bodies that made other females jealous. Her fraying denim shorts complemented her long legs that tapered at the ankles, making her even sexier and soft looking.

Blake groaned.

How long has it been since . . .

“Coffee’s ready. Why don’t we have it in the other room where the chairs are much more comfortable?” She turned around, clearly expecting him to follow.

His eyes landed on her full and tight backside filling her shorts in all the right places.

Fuck it, Connor.

He pushed his body off the sofa. The short inactivity had already settled his skin into a tight constriction, making the process of getting up more difficult. He cursed at the pain of stretching his legs.

Jennifer halted and threw him a worried glance.

“Go . . .” He gestured with a hand. It was rude, but he didn’t even know how to start explaining his caveman attitude to her. He followed her to the other room, grumbling at the discomfort.

Drew didn’t move from his spot when he caught Blake’s quick wave to stay.

The kitchen was another throwback to the 70s. The dark wood cabinets and the fluorescent lighting overhead reminded him of his parents’ home.

“Have a seat. How would you like your coffee?” Jennifer proceeded to the counter and started pouring.

“One teaspoon of sugar, please. No cream.” He settled into a bright yellow leatherette chair. His buttocks appreciated the firm but comfortable cushion, and he had to grudgingly acknowledge Jennifer’s attention to details.

She came back with two fragile-looking cups set in tiny saucers and placed them on the table. She sat opposite him in the small dinette, not bothering to look at him.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for the little cup.

“You’re welcome.” Her voice was low and had a sweet ring to it.

He eyed the tiny handle and wondered how in the hell he was going to get his finger through the small opening. Like an uncivilized grunt, he grabbed the bowl of the cup and stiffened. The scalding heat of the porcelain left him motionless.

As though he had no control over his limbs, his hand twitched and the cup fell to the table with a loud clang. “I’m sorry.” He brought the hand to his mouth and blew on it. He hated looking like a pansy in front of a woman, or anyone for that matter, and his anger boiled over at the idea that she had seen him flinch.

Without a word, Jennifer reached across the small table and pulled on his arm.

He tensed at her searing touch.

She applied pressure on his arm until he relented. With care, she turned his palm and started massaging it.

The sensation was electric. She rendered him weak and vulnerable.

For Pete’s sake! When did I become such a pussy?

“You don’t have—”

“Oh, be quiet. You almost burned yourself.”

Her statement struck a sensitive chord. He cocked an eyebrow. “If you used a cup that could fit a normal finger, this wouldn’t have happened.” He yanked his hand from her grasp and stood up. He ignored the pain radiating throughout his legs. “Thanks for the coffee and enjoy the rest of your day.”

Without a backward glance, he stormed out of the room, whistled once on his way toward the front door, and headed for his Jeep.

Drew followed behind him.

He had no business drinking coffee in her kitchen, and without a doubt, he had no right to enjoy the warmth of her touch.

Damn his life to high heaven.

Chapter 8

At the crack of dawn, Jennifer was up and ready to go. She had a nine o’clock presentation in LA that her agent had scheduled with a new client. This was one of the rare situations when she left the house.

The trip doubled as a perfect excuse to meet up with Coleen. Ever since she’d moved to Lancaster, and Coleen had relocated to San Diego after she’d gotten married, finding opportunities to see each other had been close to impossible. Although they often spoke on the phone, nothing could beat a face-to-face gossip session. Los Angeles was the perfect meeting spot, being the halfway point between their residences.

Still smarting from Blake’s abrupt departure the day before, Jennifer hadn’t gotten enough sleep. She had tossed and turned, rewinding every detail in her head, remembering his reactions and his misplaced anger. If she hadn’t met him before and seen the sweet smile not only tilting his lips but also lighting his eyes, she would have discounted him as a rude prick.

There had to be a reason behind his rage, and while she’d love to find it, there was little chance she’d be knocking on his door again. Not only had he made it clear that she repulsed him, but his actions left no doubt that he preferred to be alone.

“So be it!” she said out loud, punctuating her determination with one good nod.

The hour-and-a-half drive to West LA was uneventful, with light traffic and parking readily available. It was going to be a good day.

Feeling confident, she strode into the high-rise building, took the elevator to the nineteenth floor, and was promptly whisked to the conference room.

Her agent, Matt Crest, was already seated in one of the plush leather chairs. He stood up and smiled easily as she breezed in. “Jenny . . . you’re still pretty and punctual. What a combination.” He walked forward and gave her a peck on the cheek.

She smelled his aftershave and wrinkled her nose. “And you’re still trying to flatter my socks off, Matthew.” She took the chair next to him and placed her briefcase on top of the mahogany table. “How many clients do we have to convince today?”

“Just one buyer from Maxie’s. If Ms. Holloway likes your designs and orders all of them, then we are set for the rest of the year.” Matthew grinned and leaned back on the chair.

“I prepared ten sketches, and I took pictures of each style draped on mannequins. I also brought some samples of the fabrics for her inspection.” She gave Matt a nervous smile.

“I’m positive we’ll hit our target today.”

Within a few minutes, a woman in her thirties walked in, dressed in an impeccable two-piece beige suit. She introduced herself and small talk preceded the presentation.

Once Jennifer got into the staging aspect, she took off explaining the designs for the next hour. Passing her sketches from Ms. Holloway to Matt, she kept a steady pace on her sales pitch concerning the materials, the intricate details of each style, and the intended market for her creations.

Ms. Holloway seemed impressed, but instead of giving her opinion on the designs, the fashion buyer promised she’d call by the end of the week with her decision.

Matthew requested Jennifer wait for him in the lobby. He emerged from the conference room looking smug.

“So . . .” She followed him to the elevator. “What do you think?”

Matthew put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, and a feeling of elation washed through her. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I think we caught a fish
this
big.” He gestured with his free hand, and they laughed together.

Though Matt was technically her agent, they had gone to fashion school together. He had opted to pursue the business side of the trade while she had gone after her lifelong dream of designing ready-to-wear clothing. She intended to stretch her wings by getting into
haute couture
in the future, but for now, she was content with designing for a major clothing chain. So far, their venture together had been successful. Jennifer worked at her own schedule and pace while he scoured for clients.

Back in the day, few straight men forayed into the fashion world, and many a girl had debated exactly which side of the argument Matt landed on. There had been a few occasions when Jennifer had felt sexual tension emanating from him, but he’d never acted on it. She had brushed the feelings away as her overactive imagination running wild. Even with his attractive features, she’d felt no draw toward him. She had always been fond of Matthew and never once felt threatened by his company. Jennifer considered him one of the few people she trusted.

He promised to call her as soon as he heard from the prospective client.

After a few minutes of banter in the parking lot, they drove their separate ways.

Just past noon, Jennifer found Coleen sitting at a corner booth of the bustling restaurant where they’d agreed to meet.

With a wave, Coleen jumped from her seat and gave her a warm hug. “Jenny! It’s been a long time, girlfriend! I’ve missed you so much.” Coleen squealed in her high-pitched voice, garnering stares from other diners.

“I missed you, too. How long has it been?”

They settled in the booth opposite each other and held hands, both grinning with enthusiasm.

“Um . . . I think it’s been too long.” Coleen smiled and her blue eyes twinkled.

“I know that look. What are you keeping from me?” Jennifer tugged her friend’s hand. It wouldn’t be difficult to get her best friend to sing like a canary.

Coleen burst into fits of giggles. “I’m pregnant!” Her eyes misted and her mouth stretched from ear to ear.

Jennifer’s jaw dropped a full three seconds before she blinked, tugged Coleen’s hand, dragging her out of her seat, and they both started jumping up and down while hugging each other.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Congratulations! When are you due?”

“Around Christmas. Can you believe it?” Pure joy radiated from Coleen’s face.

Jennifer couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Not for Coleen’s good fortune, but for her own situation. She had been so close to having it all, only to have it all feel so far away. “Of course I can. You’re going to have a Christmas baby. It’s perfect.”

They broke into a fit of giggles, leaning into each other as they wiped their tears, when they noticed everyone staring at them.

Coleen gasped for breath and cleared her throat, sitting down again and regaining her composure. “Jen . . . I want to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“Will you be the baby’s godmother?” The hopeful look on Coleen’s face made Jennifer ache.

Coleen and her husband, Mike, were Catholics. They believed in the whole godparents-acting-as-second-parents deal, especially during the child’s formative years. Jennifer, on the other hand, was a “Christmas Catholic” as Aunt Debbie used to joke, since her attendance was limited to holidays and special occasions.

Even if she never had a child of her own, she would still have someone to nurture. “Of course. I’d be honored.”

After their orders were placed, Coleen began her litany of questions. As her closest friend, Coleen felt the need to ensure Jennifer’s well-being and happiness. Jennifer knew it and had accepted her friend’s mothering with resignation.

Their food came, and within minutes they were stuffing themselves and launching into another round of catching up. Jennifer hadn’t intended to divulge her trip to Blake’s house and his subsequent visit, but once she’d started talking about Trent, she hadn’t been able to stop the snowball effect.

“Are you telling me that Blake lives not even a mile away from you?” Coleen shuddered. “He sounds like a stalker to me.”

Jennifer nodded then shook her head. “Yes, we’re neighbors, but I don’t think he is a stalker. I mean—look . . . he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. He got upset when I showed up at his doorstep.”

Coleen wasn’t convinced. “Sure, he’s trying to show you that he isn’t interested, but why, in heaven’s name, would he pick a house close to yours? Have you ever thought about it?”

“Of course I thought about it. I told you about Trent’s letter, didn’t I?”

Coleen nodded.

“Well, Trent said Blake would be watching out for me, and that’s what he’s doing.” It made perfect sense to Jennifer. Besides, she wasn’t prepared to think of Blake as a stalker. She couldn’t imagine why a man like him would stalk his best friend’s fiancée.

Ex-fiancée
.

“Whatever.” Coleen still looked doubtful. “I want you to call me if you suspect anything out of the ordinary.”

Jennifer giggled. “And what will you do? Drive four hours at breakneck speed to clobber him?”

Coleen snorted. “I can do that, too, but I’m thinking more in terms of calling the cops and reporting a good-looking stalker.”

Jennifer put her fork down. “You’re one crazy woman.” She shook her head and then sobered. “You know, I think he’s bitter because of what he is going through now.”

“What are you talking about?” Colleen rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward.

“I don’t have all the details but judging from his physical injuries, I think it’s bothering him. Trent had never mentioned that Blake had a temper. The little bit of time I actually spent around him, he seemed like a cool guy. Always smiling, cutting up, and teasing Trent. I think it’s related to the pain he’s experiencing.”