Hidden Hills (20 page)

****

It hadn't surprised Charlotte when Jake's boys had called before his truck had reached the end of the street. Although no official warnings had been issued, the storms were getting closer. She could smell the rain in the air when she went next door to see what was keeping them.

“Grab your jackets, and let's go!” A strong blast of wind pushed her further into Jake's kitchen than she'd intended to go, but it didn't matter since he wasn't there. She glanced at the counter where a three liter bottle lay on its side, the liquid having soaked into the peanut butter and banana sandwiches before running down the cabinet to the tile floor. Open bags of chips and cookies, along with banana peelings and half empty glasses of milk littered the table.

“Hurry up,” Charlotte urged. “I've got supper — let's go!”

Her blood boiled at Jake for leaving his boys to eat cold sandwiches while he wined and dined his airheaded bimbo. She snatched an open mayonnaise jar and shoved it into the refrigerator, not seeing the tuna casserole on the top shelf.

The boys were gone when the phone rang. She grabbed it out of habit — then wished she hadn't.

“Is Jake there? He should have been here ages ago, and he hasn't…”

Charlotte froze. The sultry voice hurt far more than she'd ever thought possible. Until then, Loretta had only been a name. A dumb-as-dirt joke shared with the boys. It took a deafening clap of thunder to jar her back to reality.

“He's on his way!” she shouted, finding pleasure in slamming down the phone. A lightning bolt struck close enough to feel the heat, and her granny's voice repeating “one Mississippi, two Mississippi” darted through her mind. On the third Mississippi, she shot across the freshly plowed dirt between the two yards, red mud caking her white sneakers. The only bright spot in her otherwise dreary night came in knowing Jake was coming home to a well-deserved pigsty.

****

The Silver Spur wasn't the classiest restaurant in town, but it always lived up to its reputation. Their steaks were tender, the salads fresh, and the service excellent. Even thunder rattling the tin roof couldn't dampen the lively atmosphere inside the renovated feed store.

Jake's cap was the hot topic, as he knew it would be. He went along with the good natured ribbing, but his heart wasn't in it. Charlotte was on his mind, instead of by his side where she belonged. Using his cell phone, he called her only to hang up when he heard his boys in the background. She'd sounded harassed and he'd hear about it when he got home, but for now his boys were safe. During dinner he listened to the latest gossip and made a point of thanking each one individually for their hard work.

The evening was over before he noticed Ralph and Shelby sitting at a corner table. It wasn't unusual to find the tall, vivacious blonde on his friend's case, this time for inviting his entire family for Thanksgiving dinner without first clearing it with her. The nagging was nothing new, so it mostly went over Jake's head — all except the part about not having enough room.

Jake pictured the dining room at Hidden Hills as an idea sprang to mind. It could be a good business venture, providing he could get everyone to agree. Borrowing a chair from a nearby table, he attached himself to the unsuspecting couple.

****

His house was in total darkness when he returned home, making the light next door a welcome sight. As late as it was, knocking on Charlotte's door wasn't nearly as hard as it had been earlier. Her disposition probably wouldn't have improved, but he didn't care. Like it or not, he was determined to make her listen, even if she was waiting with a noose for his neck. It couldn't wait, so he took a deep breath, and knocked.

“All right, already,” he heard as she opened the door. “If you wake those kids, I'll—”

“I only knocked once.”

“More like hammered.”

Jake slid into the room and closed the door with a decisive click. At first glance, he'd assumed she'd been asleep on the couch, but then he realized work and worry had brought on her disheveled appearance. “Why's it so quiet in here?”

Charlotte retrieved the mop bucket from her back porch before answering. “Because they finally ran out of anything to fight about and went to sleep.”

He'd been afraid of this. “I'll have a word with them in the morning. Any punches thrown?”

“Not from your boys,” she said, moving the chairs out of the way. “Although, Andy forgot he was potty-trained and pooped his pants.”

Jake cringed. No wonder she'd been so ticked when she let him in. He jumped, dodging the damp mop when it swiped toward him, barely missing his feet. “Do you have to do this now?”

“I do, unless I want to be invaded by ants in the morning. Maggie spilt her milk, and you're standing in what's left of Andy's chili.”

He moved to the side, but still near enough to enjoy her swaying backside and heavy breathing. The mop stopped, and he caught her reflection in the window. Her eyes narrowed, and he got the full effect of the ramrod straight back. “What are you staring at?”

Sparks in her eyes reminded him of a firecracker, ready to explode, and he knew it was time to lose the grin and start mending fences. “We need to settle some things.”

“Come back tomorrow,” she said, the mop flying past his feet in a wide circle. “It's late.”

Jake pursed his lips. “Yeah, right — then you'll be headed to one of those jobs!”

Anger flashed in her smoldering green eyes. “You may find it hard to believe, but if I don't go to those jobs — they won't pay me!”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” He jerked the mop from her hand. “Sit down, and I'll finish this!”

He had her in his sights when she hooked a leg over a nearby chair. Even in sweats, with her hair falling out of a scarf, she was gorgeous. She stretched, pointing to an area near the sink with undisguised satisfaction. “You missed a spot.”

“I said I'd finish it,” he replied, his mouth twisted to one side. “Never said anything about getting it clean.”

“Then why bother?”

Jake was beginning to ask himself the same thing. So what if he'd been an idiot, and she'd had a horrible night? Her nasty attitude was enough to turn any man off. “It could be you're important to me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So I'm important, am I? Then I suppose that's why I spent the night refereeing five kids, while you were out carousing with your woman!”

“For your information, I don't drink,” he said, blindsided by her attack. “And what woman?”

“The one calling your house right after you left.”

The corners of his mouth tilted upward. “Real soft, sweet voice — like honey oozing through the phone?”

Her eyes sparkled. “That's the one!”

Jake laughed. “You were talking to the boys' grandmother.”

“Oh.”

He stood, tossing the mop handle back and forth, the floor forgotten. “No wonder you're so bent out of shape. Somebody's been stewing all night. You're jealous!”

“Now why would I be jealous?” She stood, holding the back of her chair.

“Because you like me more than you'll admit.” He moved in closer. A shot of adrenaline raced through his veins at the possibility of Charlotte caring for him. Keeping his hands to himself for fear of scaring her off had taken its toll. The time had come for her to listen.

“Not so fast.” He caught Charlotte and she leaned into him, her arms circling his waist, and the reflection in her eyes was the same yearning he'd felt since the first time he saw her. Smiling, he finished closing the distance between them. Her soft lips met his in a warm, hungry kiss, their bodies a perfect match.

Jake couldn't remember falling in love with Betty. They'd grown up as best friends, been high school sweethearts, and just seemed to know they were meant for each other. With Charlotte it was different —
she
was different. Although he'd only known her for a short time, he knew he couldn't lose her. Was this what being in love for the second time was like?

He was floating on air, knowing without a doubt she was the only woman he'd ever want. “Marry me,” he whispered, not realizing what he'd said until he saw the shock in her eyes.

“Are you serious? We don't even know each other!”

Jake stroked the hair from her forehead and kissed her again. “We've got the rest of our lives to get acquainted.”

He could feel her gentle fingers stroking his chest through the pullover. She leaned closer, his breathing matching hers. “But aren't we supposed to get to know each other before marriage? The courts are full of people who jumped the gun.”

Jake relished her closeness, knowing he'd won her trust, if not her heart. “It's just something to think about.”

“When I have nothing else to do?”

Closing his eyes, he kissed the top of her head again. The fragrance of honeysuckle filled his nostrils, reminding him of their time together at Hidden Hills when they'd relaxed on the creek bank and watched their kids play.

“Charlotte?” he said, relaxing his hold so he could gauge her reaction. “Were you kissing Mitch — or me?”

She frowned as if he'd lost his mind. “Mitch is dead.”

“You know what I mean.” He worried her answer would break his heart.

Her fingers traced the woven pattern of his sweater again, her eyes darkening with concern. “I could ask you the same thing about Betty.”

“You could,” he agreed, breathing a sigh of relief. “But there's no need.”

“Same here — I'm ready to move on.”

His hands sank into the soft, silky curls surrounding her face, before molding her to his heart. He kissed her soft lips again, worrying if in the morning light, when their kids were being kids, she might come to her senses.

He held her tighter. There were things he'd meant to say, important things, but he couldn't remember what they were.