Play Me (16 page)

Jake’s hands
found my hips and he pulled me close.

“So what are you
wearing underneath?” he whispered, his breath hot against my
ear. “More red lace?”

I had bought a new set
of lingerie for tonight, but I wasn’t going to spoil that
surprise.

“Where are we
going tonight?” I countered.

“Surprise.”
He gave me a grin, clearly seeing that if I wasn’t going to
give up my secrets, he wasn’t going to give up his. “In
fact, we should probably go.”

But he didn’t
move, his fingers now linked at the small of my back, keeping my hips
against his. I loved the feel of him, hard against my stomach. My
nipples tightened and heat pooled between my legs. What if we just
skipped the date, I thought, and catching his intense gaze, I could
tell he was considering the same.

Then his phone buzzed,
and we were so close it was as if I was feeling it in my own pocket.

“You should get
that,” I told him, but I didn’t pull away.

“I could.”
He gave me a wolfish grin. “Or I could let it ring and hope
that they call again and again and again.”

I laughed and extracted
myself from his grasp. He let me go reluctantly and dug his cell out
of his pocket.

“Jake here,”
he said as a greeting. “That’s right, the ravioli will be
stuffed with crab this week. Thanks.”

He hung up. “Sorry,”
he apologized again. “When the head chef is out sick, even with
a great sous chef, things tend to fall apart and it takes a while to
get it in order again.” He looped his arm around my shoulders.
“Ready for our date?”

I nodded and my skin
tingled as if the phone was still vibrating against my leg. Tonight
was going to be a long night.

“A garden?”
I couldn’t believe my eyes. A lush, bursting-with-color garden
in the middle of San Francisco. I looked over at Jake. The expression
on his face was pure pride.

“That plot is
mine.” He pointed out a particularly wild section and took my
hand.

I loved the roughness
of his fingers against mine.

Jake led me to his
garden, and I could see that although it first appeared overgrown, it
seemed extremely well organized and, on closer inspection, well
thought out.

My family had the
opposite of a green thumb. My parents had attempted to grow pot a few
years back, but that hadn’t gone very well. I could barely keep
a cactus alive, let alone tend to an entire garden. But Jake’s
garden was gorgeous. There were rows of lettuce, tons of tomato
plants, a small lemon tree, and plenty of herbs in neatly labeled
pots.

“It’s
beautiful,” I told Jake, who was checking on what looked to be
several tires piled up on top of each other with big leafy greens
overflowing the top. “What’s that?”

“Potatoes.”
He gestured me over and dug his hand through the rich soil, coming up
with a red potato, roots still covered in dirt.

“I didn’t
know this is how potatoes grew.” I was amazed. “And
what’s this?” I pointed to a wooden shaped pyramid thing
with different levels of dirt and green leaves.

“Look closer.”
Jake brushed off his hands.

I leaned in and saw
shiny red fruit. “Strawberries!”

“Yep.” He
reached past me and plucked a large one. “Open up,” he
ordered.

I did so without
hesitation. The strawberry was sweet and amazing. A little juice
escaped my lips and made its way down my chin. But before I could
reach up to wipe it away, Jake’s mouth was there, his tongue
lapping up the remaining juice.

“Mmm,” he
murmured against my chin, and with a slight tilt of his jaw, settled
his lips against mine.

I was never going to
get tired of kissing him. I leaned into him, into the kiss, my tongue
welcoming his. His hand tangled in my hair and he smelled of earth
and fresh fruit and summertime. My fingers slid up his chest, and I
could feel his heartbeat beneath my palm. I thought once again of how
easy it would be to just give that worn shirt of his one good tug.

But then I heard
someone clear their throat.

“Ahem.”

“Dammit,”
Jake muttered against my mouth before stepping away.

I turned and found
Dakota standing there, looking completely amused. She had a basketful
of vegetables in her arms.

“What are you
doing here?” Jake demanded.

“Good to see you,
too,” she told Jake before turning to me. “Hi, Ella. Good
to see you again.”

“Hi Dakota,”
I murmured, my face hot. Had I just been thinking about ripping off
Jake’s shirt in public? Yep. And I was still thinking about it,
I realized as I watched the way his shoulder muscles flexed as he
walked towards Dakota and took the basket from her.

“I
thought you were going to be here tomorrow,” he said.

“Guess
we got our wires crossed.” She gave him an apologetic shrug.
“Unfortunately, I already rented the truck.”

Jake
sighed. “Remind me to fire you,” he told her.

“Puh-lease.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Like I wanted to crash your date.”
She looked past him toward me. “Sorry, Ella.”

I didn’t really
understand what was going on, but I gave her a smile anyways. “It’s
okay.”

Jake came back over to
me, the basket resting against his hip. It looked heavy, but he
carried it with ease, his biceps filling out his shirt fantastically.
When had I become so interested in tattoos, I wondered, staring down
at the geometric design that peered out at me from under the sleeve.
Or maybe it was just Jake’s that I was interested in. That was
it. If it had something to do with Jake, I was interested.

“So.” He
looked a little sheepish. “This didn’t work out exactly
as I planned it.” He shifted the basket. “Dakota’s
plot is over there.” He pointed to the other side of the
community garden. “We help each other with our crops when it’s
time to harvest them. We use them in the restaurant if we have a good
yield. And this year we both had a great one—one we were going
to take to the restaurant”—he called over his shoulder
towards Dakota—“tomorrow.”

She shook her head and
headed towards the other end of the garden.

Jake turned back to me.
“But I guess there’s a reason I’m a chef and not a
professional planner,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”

Well, it wasn’t a
conventional date by any means, but I realized I didn’t care. I
got to spend time with Jake. That’s what mattered most.

“Don’t
worry about it.” I rolled up my sleeves. “How can I
help?”

He put me to work
pulling up carrots while he worked alongside me, harvesting the
potatoes. Their container wasn’t big—only three tires
high—but it seemed to contain an endless amount of spuds.
Dakota had brought us baskets to put the vegetables in, but we seemed
to keep filling them. Once we had filled them all up, there was a
truck that she had brought to put them all in. After only a few hours
the truck was almost full as well.

My hands were dirty, my
jeans were dirty, my face was probably dirty too, but I couldn’t
remember the last time I had had so much fun. It didn’t hurt
that Jake was a fun person to do it with.

“I was the only
person in culinary school to have my own garden,” he told me.
“Dakota started hers later. And my garden was one of the
reasons Patricia chose me to be her apprentice. She wanted to have
someone who understood where food came from and how much work it
takes to grow something. It makes you appreciate it more.”

“So all this food
is going to be used in the restaurant?” I asked.

He nodded. “Right
now, I pretty much only grow what I can use there—what
Patricia’s recipes call for.”

“What about your
own stuff?”

“Like my soup?”
Jake teased, but I still blushed. “I’ve been begging the
owner to give me a shot, and I think she might cave. If so, I’ve
got some big plans for the garden next year.” He suddenly began
looking around his work area. “Hey, have you seen my shovel?”

I
glanced over. “No, I don’t think so.”

“That’s
okay.” He let out a heavy sigh and then gave me a sidelong
look. “I’m sure it will turnip.”

I
couldn’t help but laugh at his stupid pun.

“Sorry,”
he apologized, “sometimes I can’t help myself, even when
it’s fruitless.”

“You’re
terrible.” I threw one of my carrots at him.

“You
must find me somewhat a-peeling,” he wiggled his eyebrows at
me. “Because you make my heart skip a beet.”

I
groaned, trying to hide my smile.

“And
I’ve become rather fond of your melons.”

Just then, Dakota poked
her head around the corner.

“Is he doing his
vegetable puns?” she asked. I nodded, biting my lip to keep
from laughing. They were so stupid, but pretty adorable nonetheless.

“Hey, they are
berry, berry popular among my students,” Jake argued.

“No they’re
not,” Dakota retorted. “They are super lame and cheesy.”

Jake held up his hand.
“Lettuce not jump to conclusions.”

Dakota rolled her eyes.
“Truck’s mostly full,” she told us. “These
will have to be the last baskets.”

“Great.”
Jake got up. Dakota and I seemed to hold our breath, waiting for
another bad vegetable pun, but he just brushed off his hands before
helping me off the ground. “I’ll take these to the truck.
If you ladies want to wash up, I’ll make us something for
dinner.” His eyes, though, seemed to extend the invitation only
to me. Thankfully Dakota took the hint.

“No thanks.”
She grinned. “I’ve third-wheeled for long enough.
Besides, I’ve got to take this stuff back to the restaurant.
One of the busboys said he’d come in to help me unload it.”

“Alright,”
Jake said. “But watch out for him. I don’t think he
carrots you at all.”

Dakota threw her gloves
at him.

Jake chuckled and
headed towards the truck, carefully balancing the produce. I tried
not to stare at how great those jeans fit him.

“Thanks again for
watching out for him while he was sick,” Dakota told me,
adjusting her braid.

“It wasn’t
a problem,” I assured her.

“Well, then
thanks for letting me come into your apartment and cry all over your
new shirt,” she said wryly. “Again, that’s not
something I do often. Or ever, really.”

“I didn’t
mind,” I told her. “How are you doing?”

“Other than the
completely shattered heart, I’m great!” She plastered a
big fake smile on her face and then grimaced. “I’ll be
fine.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get hit by a bus.”

“You don’t
need to get hit by a bus, Dakota. That guy was a jerk.” Jake
had returned. “You deserve better.”

“Yeah.”
Dakota then gave us all a wicked grin. “But for now, I think
I’ve earned a night with the busboy. And he’s waiting.”

Jake rolled his eyes.
“Be safe,” he said playfully.

“You too,”
she teased as she headed towards the truck. “Have fun, kids.
And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t
really narrow it down,” Jake called after her.

“Exactly!”

Dinner was a salad
straight out of the garden: lettuce, tomatoes, celery, onions,
carrots, and zucchini, simply dressed with olive oil and salt. We ate
in the garden, on a rickety picnic bench. I couldn’t remember
the last time a salad had thrilled me. Maybe it was the fact that I
had dug the very ingredients used right out of the ground—it
was just like Jake had said, it made a difference if you knew where
your food came from. Maybe it was because I watched him put it all
together in the small, simple kitchen at the center of the garden. Or
maybe I was starving because I had worked so hard. My family weren’t
exactly known for our interest in the great outdoors. Most everything
we did, we did inside. We didn’t get our fingers dirty, we
didn’t get our clothes dirty, and we didn’t get dirty.
Period. But I was discovering that there was a whole host of things
that I thought I wouldn’t like that I absolutely loved. And I
was increasingly grateful to Jake for showing me them.

As we walked the few
blocks back to the apartment, I decided that it was time I showed him
exactly how grateful I was. With lingerie. And other things. Things
involving specific body parts coming in contact with other body
parts.

Just the thought of it
made my legs tremble and I nearly fell down right on our front steps.
Luckily Jake was there to catch me.

“Are you okay?”
His hands were strong and firm against my waist.

“Mmmhmm,” I
managed, looking up into those dark, gorgeous eyes.

“Are you sure?”
He helped me steady myself again.

“Well . . . ”
An idea had just come to me. I bit my lip and gazed up at him. “Maybe
you should help me back to my apartment.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. Just a
little help, if you don’t mind.” I let him help me up the
building steps and through the main doors. My apartment was so close.
Only a few feet away. Jake’s fingers tightened against my hips.
I felt unsteady again, but in the best possible way.

“You know.”
He leaned in, his breath tickling my neck. “You do look like
you need some help.”

And before I could say
anything, he swept me up into his arms.

“I wouldn’t
want you to hurt yourself,” he told me, holding me as if I was
nothing. “Keys?”

This time, the key went
in without a hitch.

Once we were in my
apartment, Jake put me back on the ground, but his hands didn’t
leave my sides. All the playfulness in his face was gone, replaced by
pure lust.

But still, he didn’t
move.

“I just want you
to know,” he began, his voice tight. “I’m not
expecting anything, so there’s no pressure—”

“Jake,” I
interrupted, putting my hand on his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and fuck
me,” I ordered.