Stacey Joy Netzel Boxed Set (23 page)

Her imagination took over, reliving last
night and taking events one step further as she drifted back to
sleep. She sighed with longing just as a heavy weight depressed the
mattress. A hand brushed her hair from her forehead, and then warm
lips replaced the touch, pressing firmly against her skin.

“Loral?”

Jake’s whisper added a new dimension to her
dream. His coffee-scented breath made her nose twitch. Her fantasy
image of a shirtless Jake on her bed blurred.

No
. She didn’t want to wake up. She
wanted another kiss, only on the lips this time. And other
places.

“Come back to bed,” she murmured.

A soft chuckle caressed her cheek.

“Wish I could, sleepyhead, but my cab’s
finally here.”

She blinked a few times, trying to
distinguish between dream and reality. Turning her head, she saw
the clock alongside her bed read nine-thirty-nine.
Oh, wow, it
was late
. And he was leaving already? She should’ve gotten out
of bed before, darn it.

Awake now, she pushed up to sit against the
headboard. Jake sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in his black
clothes from the day before. He smiled at her, his teeth white
against the darkness of his unshaven jaw. No—grinned was more like
it.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Yes, it is.”

Jake’s grin widened, giving her the distinct
impression he enjoyed a private joke. As his gaze roved over her
face, his delight made her self-conscious enough to wonder what her
hair looked like. And her eye-makeup. Damn, she should’ve washed
her face last night!

Resisting the urge to run a hand through
tangled curls and wipe beneath her eyes, she narrowed her gaze in
suspicion. “Are my raccoon eyes that amusing?”

Amber eyes locked with hers. “Nope. You’ve
never looked more beautiful.”

What a crock
. She frowned at the lie
only to have him laugh as if he held the world in the palm of his
hand.

“What the hell is so funny?” she grumbled,
wishing for the dream man back.

“You talk in your sleep.”

“I do not.”

His nod contradicted her statement, but the
amusement in his expression bolstered her disbelief. “What’d I
say?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, a
self-satisfied smile playing about those tempting lips. Her pulse
skipped a beat, then raced when he leaned forward and lowered his
voice.

“I can’t repeat it with your mother in the
next room.”

He was such a shit. She did
not
talk
in her sleep. Deciding to turn the tables, she faked a cringe of
embarrassment, pressed her hand to her chest, and added what she
hoped was a seductive note to her voice.

“Was it really that bad?”

“No…”

One blink and he leaned forward to capture
her lips in a possessive, mind-numbing, breath-robbing kiss. He
pulled back and she sucked oxygen into her lungs as he grinned.

“It was that good.”

Oh, hell, maybe he was telling the truth.
That kiss reminded her of the one they’d shared before they’d
fallen asleep. And with his hard body molded to hers, who could
blame her if she’d had erotic dreams? In fact, she specifically
remembered that last one this morning had been hot enough to burn
the sheets.

Oh God
. Her face flamed at the
thought of what she may have said and she quickly flipped back to
denial. “Yeah, right. Next you’ll tell me I snore.”

He laughed, deep and sexy, just as an
impatient horn sounded from the street below. “We’ll save that
discussion for another morning. I have to go.”

He leaned in again, but with forewarning
this time, she shrank back and covered her mouth in a panic.
“Morning breath.”

Undeterred, he pulled her hand down and gave
a repeat performance of a minute ago. Only slower, which gave her a
chance to respond as the blood thrummed through her veins. Jake’s
low
mmm
turned into a groan as the impatient horn blared
again.

With a wry grin that made her chest ache
wonderfully, he pushed off the bed and headed for the door. Her
jumbled mind scrambled for words to call out to his retreating
back.

“I don’t snore.”

A laugh shook his shoulders and he kept on
walking. “I’ll call you.”

***

She should’ve asked,
“When?”

It might have sounded desperate, but at
least then she wouldn’t be sitting at the kitchen table waiting for
the phone to ring when what she really needed to do was find a job.
She’d had to stay home right after her mother’s surgery, but now
that the good days outnumbered the bad and improved each week, it
was time Loral got back out there. Not to mention, they had nothing
left to sell.

With five of the sixteen hundred already
spent on rent and her mother’s prescriptions coming due for refill
on Friday, what was left of the money from the jewelry would get
them a couple days worth of groceries, but not much else.

She briefly entertained the idea of calling
Jake and asking for the name of that friend of his who owned a
landscape business, but knew it’d only be an excuse to hear his
voice. There wasn’t much call for landscape architects in the dead
of winter and she refused to beg for a job. Or take one on charity
just because Jake asked a favor.

Besides, he said he’d call—and it’d only
been one day. He was probably busy getting his car out of the
ditch. He’d have to file a claim with his insurance company and
then get estimates for repairs. Most likely he’d have to secure a
rental until his vehicle was fixed. Not to mention he had a
business to run. It wasn’t like she could expect him to rush to a
phone because she was impatient.

She stared at the phone with a scowl.

“A watched pot never boils,” her mother
advised from her chair at the sewing machine in the living
room.

Loral rolled her eyes before dropping her
gaze back to the classifieds spread out before her on the kitchen
table. “I’m looking for a job, Mom.”

Even from across the room, her mother’s soft
snort reached her ears. Ignoring her, Loral skimmed over the ads
for waitresses. Unfortunately, none of the businesses looking for
help were in areas that would guarantee her sufficient tips. Those
kinds of places didn’t advertise in the classifieds, which meant a
trip downtown, walking door to door with the slim chance of lucking
out this close to Christmas. After the new year would’ve been
better, but she couldn’t wait that long.

The scrape of chair legs on the wood floor
told her her mother was on her feet. A moment later a warm hand
squeezed her shoulder.

“You already called Benito’s?”

“Yesterday afternoon.” She sighed. “Luca
said to call back in February when one of his hostesses goes on
maternity leave.”

“Oh.”

“He did offer to put in a good word for me
down at The Grand, told me to ask for Marti, so I’ll head downtown
after the lunch rush and see if they have anything open.”

Her mother lowered herself to a chair, her
gaze fixed on the newspaper spread across the table. “I don’t like
the thought of you riding that bus downtown at night. Especially if
you’ll be working late.”

That reminded Loral of the accident the
other night. If she’d been on that bus, if something had happened
to her, what would her mother have done? Where would she go? Dismay
clawed up her spine but she forced it away and pasted a smile on
her face for her mom as perused the ads yet again.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, that’s where the
money is.”

“I hate that you have to do this.”

The tears in her mother’s voice brought
Loral’s head up. “It’s okay, mom. You’re the one who taught me the
value of working hard and earning my own way.”

“No, dear.” Her mother covered her mouth,
shaking her head, defeat in her eyes. “I hate that you’ve given up
your dreams to take care of me.”

Loral thought of her conversation with Jake,
of the joy she’d felt just imagining the showroom garden behind her
office in Dragonfly Dreams. The impossible dream. Her heart ached
knowing she’d never sit in that chair behind the desk she placed in
front of the window, but she’d never
ever
tell her mom
that.

“It’s not a big deal,” she insisted. “I
don’t mind doing what has to be done.”

“I know dear, and that’s why I hate it when
things get so tough. I wish I could do more to help, so everything
didn’t fall on your shoulders.”

She reached out to take her mother’s hand.
“Mom, don’t. We’re going to get through this and before you know it
everything will be better. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,
right?”

Her mother shrugged.

Loral tightened her fingers, offering her
mother encouragement. “Remember what the doctor said.”

She sniffed with an angry frown. “Hard to
have a positive attitude when you’ve had to sell just about
everything you own and your daughter is so buried with
responsibility she can’t even have a life. I hate being a burden to
you.”

Tears sprang to Loral’s eyes, too. She slid
off her chair, knelt next to her mother and put her arms around
her. “You’re not a burden, mom. Never. Besides the fact that I love
you, I know you’d do the same for me.”

Her mother’s hug tightened. “I love you,
too, sweetheart.”

After a moment, they both pulled away with
watery smiles. Loral stood with a final sniff and glanced toward
the sewing machine.

“How’s the quilt coming?”

“It’ll be done tomorrow. Beth said she’s
already got a buyer—a doctor’s wife who wants to give it to their
pregnant daughter for Christmas—so I’ll take it to the hospital
when we go on Wednesday.”

“That’s great. See—we both do our
parts.”

Her mother gave a soft smile of agreement
and Loral was happy to see she looked more convinced.

“I mean it, mom. And, it’s one of your
best.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

“I am pleased with the way the pattern
turned out.”

As her mother returned to the quilt, Loral
folded up the newspaper and cleared her lunch dishes. After she’d
washed and dried the dishes and then wiped down the counters, she
went to see what she had in her closet that would make the best
impression on the high-class restaurant managers.

A white blouse and slim black skirt would
have to do, paired with sheer black hose and heels that she’d slip
on when she got downtown.

She pinned her dark curls into a
sophisticated twist on top her head, swiped some gloss across her
lips, and grabbed her shoulder bag that was large enough to hold
her tennies when she changed. Her ugly faded brown coat matched
nothing, but she’d just stuff it in her bag the moment she walked
in the door.

“Good luck, honey,” her mother said as Loral
opened the closet.

“Thanks. I’m not sure when I’ll be—”

Her voice died when she spotted Jake’s black
leather jacket hanging in the closet next to her coat.

“When you’ll be, what, dear?”

“Back,” Loral finished quietly as she
reached to finger the soft leather. One would think he’d forgotten
it; she knew he’d left it on purpose. Her knight in supple black
leather.

A search of the pockets confirmed her
suspicions. Empty.

The warmth of his gesture warred with her
pride. She wasn’t sure which won, but reasoned his black leather,
extra large or not, certainly would look better than her
thread-bare brown corduroy.

And the added bonus, she thought as she
slipped it on out in the hall, was she got to smell Jake during the
long bus trip downtown.

***

“
I’ll need you Christmas Eve,
too.”

Not bothering to change out of her heels,
Loral left The Wooden Iris with a schedule in hand, and hoped her
mother would understand. It’d be the first Christmas Eve they
wouldn’t spend together, but it wasn’t like she could’ve said no.
The Grand had no open positions and the three restaurants she’d
applied at after that weren’t hiring either.

A check of her watch confirmed she had just
over one hour to kill before her first night of training started.
She could get a cup of coffee on the corner, or...she could go for
a walk past
Yore Timeless Treasures
and see Jake.

More than anything, she wanted to see him,
talk to him, but her feet remained rooted to the sidewalk. The fact
remained, he hadn’t called. If he’d decided against pursuing any
type of a relationship, she didn’t want to come across as needy or
desperate.

While she hovered with indecision, his smile
flashed in her mind’s eye.

What was she worried about? Jake had never
been anything but sincere with her. And the other morning…the heat
in his eyes…that wasn’t something a person faked.

She took one step, then another. Somehow she
knew if she talked to him, he’d share her joy about getting the job
so quickly, and cheer her up about having to work her favorite
night of the year.

Yore Timeless Treasures
was located
only six blocks away, so she hurried along the salt-roughened
sidewalk, hugging his jacket tight against the December chill. Snow
was predicted again, but not near as much as the other night.

Stopping just outside the shop to give her
aching feet a break, she spotted Jake through the window, helping a
customer. The sight of him set her heart racing, especially after
the intimacies they’d shared. She’d wondered about kissing him for
so long, and the reality had put all her fantasies to shame. Her
lips tingled with the memory, and she no longer needed his jacket
for warmth.

The first customer moved away, but before
she could open the door, another customer approached him at the
counter. Loral debated going in when he was clearly busy, but the
lure of hearing his voice couldn’t be denied. When an elderly
couple opened the door, she slipped in behind them.