Sweet Deal (18 page)

Jake stood there also surveying his place. “It’s kind of messy, isn’t it?”

“Um…” Her smile broke free. “Kind of? It’s a freaking disaster!”

“It’s not
that
bad.”

Well, it was reasonably clean. The kitchen was clean anyway, counters spotless, stainless steel appliances gleaming. There were no dust bunnies lurking in corners that she could see.

“I have a cleaning lady,” he said. “So it can’t be that bad.”

She pressed her lips together to again stop from laughing, and nodded. The urge to organize, tidy and throw away a ton of junk made her itch and twitch.

“And I don’t like things too neat,” he added. “It stifles creativity.”

Now she did laugh out loud, but he grinned too. The state of his condo took her by surprise—he was always perfectly groomed and dressed impeccably, and somehow she’d expected where he lived to be the same.

“Have a seat,” he said, nodding to stools at the granite counter. “We can have a glass of wine while I cook.”

“I can help.” As long as it was simple. Cooking wasn’t her thing, unless it was cookies.

“We’ll see.” And he started pulling food out of the refrigerator, pulling pans down from the rack above the counter, expensive-looking gourmet cookware. Wow.

He was a multi-faceted guy, that’s for sure, and as she watched him, her heart tilted dangerously.

As he cooked and then as they ate, they talked more about his Iron Man goal.

“When did you decide to do this?” Shelby asked, spearing a pillowy ravioli coated in tomato sauce. “Or have you always wanted to?”

Jake’s face tightened a little and he looked down at his own plate. “I got the idea about a year ago,” he said. “I needed something to fill my time beside work. I wasn’t feeling all that satisfied with my job, and I wasn’t going to be starting my own business. I actually started going out a lot—hanging out in bars, partying all night. That didn’t seem very healthy, so I decided to take up something that would be good for me. I’ve always liked swimming—I was on the swim team in high school and college. But the triathlon appealed to me because it was a challenge.”

She nodded. “Do you want to win?”

He laughed. “No! This year will be my first time. I’ve done smaller competitions, but not an Iron Man. My goal is to finish and live to tell about it.”

She grimaced. “That doesn’t sound like fun to me.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled back at her. “Yeah, sometimes that’s just how I feel. When I’m in agony I ask myself, why am I doing this again?”

“I have to admire your determination, though.”

“Thanks.”

After dinner they moved into his living room and he cleared magazines and newspapers off the couch so they could sit. “Sorry about the mess,” he muttered. “I kind of don’t notice it so much when I’m here alone.”

His apology touched something inside her. “No worries. I can live with a little clutter. Well. Not for long. It might drive me crazy after a while.”

He slid one arm around her and tipped up her chin. “I’ll clean up before you come next time.”

Next time. Her heart missed a beat as she gazed into his eyes. That made it sound so…real.

Jake’s office phone warbled and he absently grabbed for it Tuesday afternoon, not taking his eyes off his computer screen.

“Jake Magill,” he barked into the phone, then regretted the sharp tone. Drew had already accused him of being a grouchy sonofabitch earlier that day. And yeah, he was feeling irritable and ornery. Because he’d wanted so much to see Shelby last night but hadn’t let himself give in and call her. Why he was denying himself, he had no fucking idea. Oh yeah, he did. Because Sunday night at his condo he’d had the weirdest thought that he didn’t want her to ever leave, and that was just not acceptable. It irritated him.

“Hi, Jake. It’s me.”

The voice startled him bolt upright in his chair.

“Gianna.”

Chapter Fifteen

Jake thought his heart might have stopped, then started again with painful thuds in his chest. He actually laid a hand over his dress shirt and tie.

“You’re probably surprised to hear from me,” she said, sounding hesitant and quiet.

“Uh…yeah. You could say that.” He stared across his office, not really seeing anything, mind racing. What the hell?

“I wanted to call you ever since I saw you at that Gold Shield picnic.”

Jesus Christ! The thoughts flying around in his head picked up speed. “Oh.”
Brilliant answer, genius.
“Why?”

Stupid question.
Shit.

“I don’t know.” A soft sigh sounded over the phone line. “I just…after I saw you, I realized how much I miss you.”

He gave his head a sharp shake, not sure if he’d heard right. “Gianna. You’re married.”

“I know.” The high pitch of her voice told him she was nervous and near tears. Christ, what was going on? “But I’m…I think I…oh dammit.” A few beats of silence. “Maybe we could get together…for a drink or something…and talk.”

“Gianna. Jesus. What’s going on?”

He felt as if a giant fist had just been driven into his gut, all the air knocked out of him. He could hardly draw a breath. This was fucking insane.

“I don’t know. I don’t
know
. I’m confused. I miss you and I want to talk to you.”

Jake covered his eyes with one hand and slumped back in his chair. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, Jake. I know you were hurt by what happened…”

Jesus, there she went with the pity again. Was that what this was all about? “It was a long time ago,” he said.

“I know, I know. You probably can’t forgive me, but I realize now what a mistake I made.”

“It was over a year ago!”

Disbelief had his own voice rising and he fought back the emotions churning inside him.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You have no idea…”

“What about Andrew?”

She didn’t answer.

He’d waited so long for this day. Actually, he’d given up hope this day would ever really come, had come to terms with the fact that Gianna and Andrew were together, although for a long time after the break-up he’d had dreams about it almost every night. And now it was really happening. She wanted him back. Unfuckingbelievable.

He’d loved her. Once. Man, in his dreams he’d been pretty quick to take her back, but now he hesitated. When he’d seen her at that picnic he’d been rattled, but probably more because of the unexpectedness of the encounter. Did he really still have feelings for her?

He tried to sort out the tangled knot of emotions inside him and gave it up.

“I don’t know, Gianna.” Then he frowned. “Are you and Andrew having problems?” What if that bastard
was
screwing around on her? He already knew Andrew had his eye on Shelby, so it was entirely possible he had other women too. Shit.

“Sort of.”

Huh. Not much of an answer. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.

Another soft, sad-sounding sigh. “Would you think about it? About maybe just getting together some time for a drink? You still have my cell phone number, right?”

Pathetic fool that he was, yeah, it was still programmed into his own cell phone. “Yeah.”

“Think about it and call me,” she invited in that breathy voice. He pictured her, all dark hair and eyes and sexy mouth. And kind of felt sorry for her.

He hung up the phone and sat there for a long time, replaying the conversation in his mind, trying to make sense of it all. But there was no sense to it. He could imagine a hundred different scenarios. What if Gianna and Andrew’s marriage had been a mistake? What if she still had feelings for him? Could he actually forgive her and take her back?

Did he
want
to forgive her and take her back?

He felt like his head was going to explode.

This was a freakin’ nightmare.

“Do you think your parents might get the wrong idea about us?”

Jake had picked Shelby up and they were on their way to visit her parents. He had no idea how this had come about. After Gianna’s call, he’d been distracted and confused. Should he be ending things with Shelby? Should he call Gianna? How could he call her when she was married? How could he even think of doing that? But he did think of it, because hell, he’d thought about nothing else for months after they’d broken up. Wasn’t this what he’d been waiting for?

Or was it? Because only moments before Gianna’s call, he’d been all confused about his feelings for Shelby and how he hadn’t wanted her to leave his place on Sunday night, which was not supposed to be part of this little deal they had going on.

So when he’d picked up the phone to call Shelby, he wasn’t even a hundred percent sure
why
he was calling her. He wanted to see her. He felt guilty about talking to Gianna. He felt guilty about even
thinking
about calling Gianna. But why should he feel guilty when he and Shelby had only a no-strings-attached deal between them? Then he was talking to her and asking to see her that evening, and she was telling him she’d already made plans to visit her parents, and invited him along.

First he’d said no. No, as in hell no, no freakin’ way he wanted to meet her parents, like he was her real boyfriend or something. He
never
did the whole meet-the-parents thing—his hookups never got that far and that was fine with him. Meeting parents was way too serious for his casual life.

But somehow, there they were, sitting in his car on their way to see her parents.

She snorted at his question. “Don’t worry about that. They’ll barely notice we’re there.”

He laughed. She’d told him about her parents getting back together yet again and how her mom hadn’t even remembered she was coming the last time she’d gone over. She had another container of cookies on her lap, though.

“What’s with the cookies?” he asked as he drove. “Taylor says you’re always making cookies for people. I thought you didn’t like to cook.”

“Cookies are about the extent of my culinary skills,” she said. “I don’t know why I do that. Okay, yes I do.” She sighed. “When I was a kid, one time my parents were having this huge blow up, in their bedroom yelling and throwing things at each other. I went into the kitchen, and to distract myself I made cookies. I had to focus on all the measurements and it…helped. I guess. And then my parents came out of their bedroom and they smelled the cookies and they stopped fighting. And they…” She looked out the side window of the car, pausing in her story. “They ate the cookies and they said what a good job I’d done. They were actually paying attention to me and they stopped fighting.” She shot him a wry smile. “For a while. I guess I have this weird feeling that if I make cookies, everything will be okay. Even though I know it won’t.”

He reached for her hand and squeezed it, kept it within his as he drove. “You’ve never made cookies for me.”

She grinned. “I don’t think you need cookies from me. Your life seems pretty together.” He snorted and she tipped her head as she looked at him. “Isn’t it?”

“Sure.”
Yeah, right.
As if he wasn’t confused enough about his career, that phone call from Gianna had messed his head up but good. What the hell was he supposed to do about that? And oh yeah,
why
was he meeting Shelby’s parents again? Jesus.

Following her directions, he pulled into the driveway, and they walked into the house.

“Hey, Mom and Dad! I’m here.”

A woman sat on the couch in the living room, alone, a small woman like Shelby, a little plumper, her blonde hair cut short. “Oh, Shelby. Hi.”

He caught Shelby’s eye roll even though her mother apparently didn’t. “Don’t tell me you forgot I was coming again.”

“I’m just a little distracted,” her mother said, rising and coming toward her for a hug. “And who’s this?”

Shelby introduced Jake to her mother. “What are you distracted about, Mom?”

Mrs. Leighton sighed and sank back down onto the couch. “Your father’s not home yet.”

“Oh.”

“And he hasn’t called.”

“Uh-huh.” Shelby shot a glance at Jake who lifted his eyebrows. “Well, I brought you some cookies.”

“Oh thank you, honey.” Mrs. Leighton waved a hand. “Just put them in the kitchen. Would you two like a drink?”

“Um…” Again she looked at Jake.

“I’d like a cookie,” he said softly with a faint smile.

A slow smile tugged at Shelby’s pretty lips. “Oh. Okay. Let’s go into the kitchen.”

She led the way, found a plate and arranged some cookies on them. “A glass of milk would go good with these,” she said. “Want one?”

“Sure.”

She poured them each a glass of milk then carried the plate of cookies into the living room and set it on the coffee table. She and Jake each took a seat and Jake reached for one of the cookies and took a big bite, savoring the buttery richness, the sweetness of brown sugar.

“Awesome,” he pronounced. “You do make good cookies.”