The Summer of Jake (3 page)

For one sweet moment, I thought she was going to reach up and kiss me. She had the look of a woman who wanted to, but, instead, she quickly mumbled her address then turned and walked out.

Which was just as well. I thumped my head back on the wall behind me. Hard. Nothing could happen with my little sister’s best friend. She might be sophisticated, but underneath, there was something almost innocent about her. Not wanting to flirt had been a clear signal that she didn’t play games, and I needed to take notice.

This was not a woman I could kiss.

This was not a woman I could let myself hurt.

…

Annalise

The explosion from the general direction of Mindy’s engine was my first clue that something was wrong. The flame licking out the side of her hood was the second.

After stopping for some groceries, I’d been driving home through the leafy streets and trying to get a firm grip on my hormones. Whatever my body had been feeling in Jake’s walk-in closet had been wrong. He wasn’t inviting me into intimate aspects of his life as a come-on—he’d hired me because he was chasing another woman. I had to keep my mind on that point. If only my body was as easy to convince. In the past, it had always been so obedient. Except during the Jake-crush, but that went without saying.

I desperately needed this opportunity. If my designs sold well in his shop, hopefully they’d take on more. And from that exposure, I’d have a platform to expand to other shops. I couldn’t ruin this perfectly-formed, perfectly-negotiated deal by getting sidetracked by a mouth. Regardless of its perfection.

Then the explosion-flame thing happened, leading to my very quick exit of the traffic, then of Mindy herself. Luckily, a more-equipped motorist behind me had also pulled over and was able to douse the flames with a small fire extinguisher. He checked that I was okay and had a phone before I’d confidently told him he could go—there was no point in him staying once the fire was out. So he drove off, leaving me and my crippled Mindy on the side of the road, both of us looking and feeling forlorn.

I cast a look over Mindy Mini’s form. We’d been through a lot in our three years together. Mindy was my first car, and although I knew flames were a very bad sign, the thought of her not pulling through was just too devastating to consider.

I reached into the front seat for my phone and called a tow truck, then Jake. I could hear his car engine and radio in the background. “Hey, Annalise, I’m on my way over to your place.”

“Um, slight change of plans.” I tried to sound normal, with a touch of casual flippancy. I was pretty sure I’d pulled it off.

“You sound strange. Are you all right?”

Guess not. I drew my lips into a tight smile, hoping it made my voice come across calm. “I think I’m fine, but my car isn’t feeling so well.” I looked at poor Mindy, sitting there, helpless.

“Do you want me to come and get you?”

I released a shaky sigh. “That would be great.” I quickly gave my location.

“I’m not too far away. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.”

As I hung up, I noticed my hand trembling. It was a funny tremble that was coming from inside, like my organs themselves were shivering and the outside of me was getting caught up in the motion. Feeling a touch melodramatic, I sank down onto the sidewalk and dropped my head to my knees. It was probably just shock—I’d heard that could happen. Yet, knowing what it was didn’t lessen its effects at all. If anything, sitting down and letting go encouraged the trembling.

It was probably only a minute or two before the shaking slowed, even though it seemed much longer, and I was almost feeling normal again when Jake pulled up and walked over.

As I watched him standing there, my thoughts were torn between Mindy and Jake. Jake won.

It just wasn’t Mindy’s day.

Chapter Three

Annalise

After helping me to my feet, Jake put an arm around my shoulder, and I felt his strength seep through to my flustered insides. I didn’t want to have to rely on his strength, but as mine was missing in action, I gave myself permission to soak up all the Jake-ness I could. He stood still, holding me close, not saying a word until I felt nurtured and comforted and okay again.

“Thanks for coming, Jake.” I picked up my handbag and groceries and put them in his Jeep.

“Couldn’t leave you stranded out here—not when I’ve been promised lunch.” He gave me one of his slow, sexy smiles.

Yep, there was the body disobedience—a slight increase in temperature, a flutter in my belly, and a blush thing trying to come out. Why was I always blushing around him? He hadn’t done anything, and I hadn’t said anything embarrassing. It was as if my body was punishing me for allowing any distance between itself and Jake, when all it wanted was Jake’s touch. I glanced down at his hands—they were strong and confident hands. Capable of building a surfboard, and I’d bet they could also make my body sing if they chose to.

The tow-truck driver arrived a few minutes later.

“Where do you want it towed, love?” the driver asked as he loaded Mindy onto his truck.

Didn’t they just tow them to a mechanic? “Um…”

Jake spoke from behind me. “Do you have a regular mechanic?”

“Not really.” Not at all.

Jake moved around to stand beside me. “Why not get it towed to Adam’s workshop?”

Adam. Yes, I trusted Adam. “Sounds good.”

Jake gave the driver the address, and they talked man-talk as Mindy was winched higher. After the driver finished securing her and left, I waved a little good-bye to my car and promised to see her soon.

Jake drove us back to my apartment before carrying the groceries up to my floor. As we walked in, he looked around and whistled. “This looks…unique.”

I had to laugh, which was convenient because the movement hid my body’s shameful lack of obedience and the slight residual trembling from Mindy’s near-death experience. “Oh good, that’s what I was going for.” I glanced at the room-wide display of my favorite colors, all in bold, intense tones. Mainly pinks, greens, purples and yellows.

He was inspecting details other people usually missed, like the butter yellow picture frames that matched the windowsills. “I’m surprised you managed to use all these outlandish colors and still end up with an almost conservative look.”

I dropped my bag on the table and walked over to where he stood. “It’s all in what color you put where and the amounts you use of each. Basic design concepts.”

He turned to me and grinned. “I’m impressed. I’ve obviously employed the right person for my makeover if you can do this to your apartment.”

An uncontrollable smile spread across my face. “Thank you.”

At that moment, Rover came bounding out from my bedroom, almost barreling over Jake as she jumped up on his leg. I think he faltered more from surprise than her cat-weight. I bent to pick her up, but she was scrabbling her paws to reach the new person.

Jake took a step back. “Is that cat on medication?”

Used to this kind of comment, I just smiled. “Rover thinks she’s a dog. A Jack Russell to be specific.”

“Ah.” Jake thought for a moment, then shrugged and reached forward to pat her. “Have you considered therapy?”

For a second, I wondered if he meant the cat or me, but then his eyes twinkled.

“No need. She’s perfectly happy as long as people treat her like a dog.” Rover turned and licked my cheek as if to reinforce my point. “She was dumped at four weeks old outside my grandmother’s house, and Nan took her in.”

“Let me guess, your grandmother had a Jack Russell who adopted the kitten?”

“Her dog Spot completely took over her care. And Nan didn’t like cats, so she treated Rover like a dog. Between the two of them, Rover didn’t stand a chance.” I snuggled my face into her black and white stripy neck, and she relaxed for a few seconds before trying to reach Jake again.

“So why’s she living with you?”

I put Rover down on the ground, and she sniffed the leg of Jake’s jeans. “When Nan died a year ago, Spot had already been gone a little while, so Rover came to live here. I’ll just give her some dog food, and we can start.”

Jake started nodding, then hesitated. “You feed her dog food? Isn’t that taking things a bit far?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s C-A-T food,” I spelled out. “We just can’t let Rover know that.” I filled Rover’s dish then pointed down the hall. “Come into my workroom. It’s easier to see the designs there.”

As he followed me down the short hall, I could feel his gaze. When I’d walked down his hall, I’d watched his backside. What was he looking at now? The pictures on the wall? The carpet? My bottom? Should I waggle it in case? Perhaps do that little flourish thing I’d seen strippers in movies do?

Before I could decide, I was at the door to the workroom, converted from a spare bedroom. The walls were covered in sketches, and the desk was strewn with my works-in-progress. Designs and neat piles of fabric overflowed the open cupboards, a worktable supported the sewing machine and an assortment of pins, scissors, and measuring tape, and in one corner was a dressmaker’s mannequin with a half-finished jacket I was working on.

“Wow,” Jake said as he turned around, taking it all in. “This reminds me of my first board design workshop. Except this is smaller and more colorful. I like it.”

I felt that uncontrollable smile return and was embarrassed by how easily his compliments affected me. Had I no shred of control? To cover, I picked up the portfolio of designs I’d stayed up half the night putting together. “These are all casual wear, suitable for the beach or to be worn over swimsuits.”

Jake took the designs and leafed through them. “They’re good. Do you have any of them mocked up?” His eyes shifted to the cupboard filled with prototypes.

I stood a little straighter. “All of them.”

He raised an eyebrow in his movie star way. “You’ve been busy.”

Having no life certainly helped. I stood as straight as I possibly could, folding my arms across my chest. “I take my work seriously.”

“Good. I’d like you to model them for me.”

My stomach fell clear through my toes on its way to the floor.

…

Jake

Tossing the designs back on the desk, I assessed Annalise’s shocked face. “I assume you’ve made the outfits in your size to see how they hang?”

“Y-yes I have, but…” Patiently, I watched an array of emotions flash across her face and then saw the moment she made her decision. “Okay. If you’ll wait outside, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Closing the door, I smiled. This was a very nice bit of luck. I’d expected she wouldn’t have them made up yet and would sew up prototypes of the ones I chose to fit a model. A private fashion show of beachwear by a beautiful woman definitely fitted my idea of a pleasant way to pass an afternoon. I sat on her couch and made myself comfortable, happily anticipating the first design.

Her weird cat jumped up on the couch beside me, sitting with her front paws hanging over the edge, just like I’d seen small dogs do. I watched for a moment, shook my head, then focused back on the hall, waiting for Annalise.

When she walked out to stand before me, shoulders ever so slightly hunched and eyes averted, I couldn’t respond. Annalise wasn’t just beautiful—she was breathtaking. The sea-green and gold sarong-style dress tied around her neck had elastic strategically fitted to emphasize the curves of her breasts and hips. The green of the fabric brought out the color of her eyes, and her long, glossy hair fell around her shoulders. She swirled, and the dress looked stunning.

“The fabric is wrinkle free and drip dry.” There was a barely audible waver in her voice. “So it can be stuffed in a beach bag, and it’s okay to get wet walking in water.”

“Turn around again.” I didn’t have enough control of my voice yet to say much more.

I watched her turn, enjoying her genuine coyness. Surely, with her body, she’d have had more than her share of compliments? Maybe she was worried about my opinion of her designs? Or was she still upset about her car? Whatever, it sure didn’t affect the grace of her movements—when she moved, it was like she floated above the ground.

These designs would walk out of the shop. Women could wear them over their swimsuits on the beach or dress them up for a casual date.

“That’s great.” I stood and walked over to feel the fabric, picking up the piece tied around her neck. “And it looks great on you.” She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, and I was surprised. Maybe she wasn’t as used to compliments as I’d assumed. I could do something about that. “If you stood in my store wearing this, they’d sell out in no time. Mainly bought by men wanting their girlfriends to look this good.”

She shifted uncomfortably and stepped back. Apparently, that was enough complimenting for now. “I’ll take this one, regardless of what else you have. But the deal is for two designs, so I’ll need to see the rest.”

“I won’t be long.” The words were muffled in her rush to leave.

I sank back down on the couch, pleased. Her unexpected shyness had added an extra dimension to the enjoyment value of the show. Made it more special, because I was pretty sure this was something she’d never do again for a man.

At the thought of Annalise parading around in front of another man, I had a flash of out-of-place jealousy and flinched. Where had that come from? I visualized the same picture again, like probing a sore tooth, and felt the same flash of emotion. I pushed out a breath and raked a hand through my hair. At least I could console myself that she’d always make her designs in a different size in the future to show them on someone else—her discomfort in modeling for me showed that.

Annalise re-entered the living room in a pale pink top that exposed most of her stomach. I knew I should be looking at the design I was considering buying, but I couldn’t draw my eyes from the expanse of flesh. I could see almost up to… Was she wearing a bra or a bikini top? She turned, offering me a rear view, and I moved to sit on my hands, making sure I didn’t reach out to touch. Her skin was a creamy color. Most girls I dated were bronzed—would the texture feel different?

She turned back. “This fabric is also wrinkle free, and the loose folds of the shorts allow for a range of movements.” She spoke in a formal, almost stilted manner. “So, they can be worn walking, playing beach volleyball, or other activities on the sand.”

I finally looked at the matching pale pink shorts in a soft material that fell to folds around her thighs. Oh, no, I couldn’t go there. I was already considering picking up one of her cushions to cover my lap and hide her effect on me. “Yep, that’s nice, too. What else have you got?”

As Annalise walked away to change, I frantically visualized myself in a cold shower. I just about had myself back under control when she reappeared, thankfully more covered this time. Even so, for the next seven changes of clothes, I used all my self-discipline to keep my mind on the business side of the viewing.

When she came out in the dress she’d been wearing before the fashion show, I said a quick prayer of thanks that the torture was finally over and stood.

She passed over the design sketches. “Here, you can have a look while I make lunch.”

There was a slight tremble in her hand as I took them. Had she been that upset about modeling her clothes? Or perhaps she was still upset about her car? Or maybe I’d imagined it.

“I’ve already decided,” I said and put the portfolio on her coffee table. “The first green dress and the pink outfit.”

“I’m glad you liked them.” As she turned to head for the kitchen, I had a quick glimpse of her smile. For all she’d been trying to play it cool, she was thrilled, and it gave me a buzz to be the one to provide that for her.

I followed her into her small kitchen. “I’ll need to introduce you to Tracey to talk about orders and color choices. You and I have a shopping date tomorrow, so how about the day after that?”

“Works for me.” She put the sandwich ingredients she’d retrieved from the fridge on the counter, then turned to face me. “What would you like on your sandwich?”

I moved in behind her and looked over the assortment she’d gathered, from sun-dried tomatoes to artichoke hearts and Camembert. “Do you think I could have plain cheese and normal tomato?”

She frowned at me as if it were a bizarre request. “You really are a man of simple tastes.”

“I’m just a surfer with a businessman sham going on.”

“Is that how you see yourself?” Taking a block of cheddar from the fridge, she started slicing.

A raspy
rrrreht
sound—apparently Rover’s version of a bark—came from the floor, and Annalise threw her a piece of cheese.

It still surprised me that anyone could think anything different. All I was really good for was sitting out on my board, waiting for a wave. What would Annalise—who was so full of ambition about her career—think if I told her that?

Maybe just stick to the facts.

“I inherited some money from my father that had been held in trust until I turned twenty-one, and decided to use that, plus my profile in the surfing world, to start a company. I don’t have a degree in business; most of what I’ve done has been instinct.” I hoisted myself up on the kitchen counter across from where she was working.

“Instinct?”

“
Rrrreht
.” She threw another piece of cheese on the floor.

I chuckled at the crazy symbiosis she and the cat had developed, then thought about her question. “Yeah, it’s like the instinct for surfing, knowing what the waves will do next.”

“How does that relate to business?”

“I followed the same principle to know when to expand, what people want to buy, and who to employ. Once you employ the right people, the rest gets easier.”

“It seems you have good business instincts as well as surfing ones.”

I winced. People had always thrown compliments my way—part of the legacy of having famous parents, then being on the pro surfing circuit—and in general I’d learned to accept them. Smile, say thank you, and move on. But it felt wrong to do that with Annalise. To accept her words was to allow that they were the truth, despite knowing full well I didn’t deserve them. Basically, it would be lying to her. And Annalise didn’t deserve my lies.