That Thing Called Love (21 page)

Jake yelled his approval and was still cheering when Jenny brought the boat around a moment later and he jumped onto the beach. He strode straight over to his son, who was standing next to his beached slalom ski, wrapped his arms around him and hauled him off his feet in a fierce bear hug.

He set him back down. “You rocked!”

Austin looked both thrilled and a little rattled, and Jake warned himself not to push too hard. He took a casual step back. “You want to ski some more, or are you ready for a hero?”

“A what?”

“You know, a hero sandwich. Oh. A hoagie or a sub, you call them here.”

“How soon we forget,” Jenny said, joining them.

He hitched a shoulder. “I’ve lived in Manhattan a long time now.”

“I could use a sandwich,” Austin said. “Where’d you get ’em?”

“I bought the fixings in Silverdale. You can make your own any way you like it. I figured that was the closest I could give you to DeFonte’s in Brooklyn. They make the best.”

“Sweet. What all ya got?”

Jenny had snapped out the blanket he’d brought and spread it near a downed tree with an immense tangled network of sun-bleached roots. Jake would bet big bucks it was a climbing magnet for every kid who hit this beach. He and Austin joined her, and he sank to his knees atop the throw and began pulling ingredients out of the grocery bag and cooler.

“We’ve got ham, we’ve got pepperoni, we’ve got Genoa salami, roast beef and pastrami. We’ve got sliced onions and tomatoes, chopped lettuce, vinegar and oil, mayo and mustard and, of course, some kick-ass rolls. For sides I brought potato salad and fruit salad and
pepperoncini.
Oh, and chips. To wash it down we have a nice selection of bottled water, canned Coke, both high-test and unleaded, or root beer, which any aficionado will tell you is strictly high-test.”

“Dude, this is so dope!”

“Yes,” Jenny agreed dryly. “That oughta stave off starvation for an hour or two. Even for a teenager with two hollow legs.”

They pigged out, then Jake and Austin tossed a ball back and forth on the beach and entertained themselves playing keep-away from Jenny, which was ridiculously easy to do since, 1) she was short, and 2) she had zero sport skills. At least of the ball-capturing variety.

She was pretty damn good at clambering around the root-ball, though. Her small stature stood her in good stead among the silvery twisted roots.

The days were growing longer in the Pacific Northwest, and the sun hadn’t yet hit the mountaintops when Jenny declared it time to go. Jake wanted to object the way Austin did, but he knew she was right. It was a school night.

“Pack it up, kid,” he directed.

“But I don’t wanna go,” Austin protested. “This is fun.”

Jake warmed inside, but forced himself to say easily, “And we’ll do it again. But don’t you have homework to do?”

“Yeah, I s’pose.” Then Austin brightened. “I’m so gonna do the hero sandwiches at
my
birthday party this summer.”

On June thirtieth.
Shit.
He was going to have to tell Austin soon about moving with him to New York after school got out. But what was he going to do about the kid’s birthday party? Because clearly he hadn’t thought this through all that well. With no school in session, Austin didn’t have a prayer of making a new group of friends in the couple of weeks between school ending here and June thirtieth. He might have to extend his internal deadline.

But he didn’t have to deal with that now. Tonight he got to bask in his son’s approval.

When they arrived back at Jenny’s, he helped Austin wipe down the ski. While Austin put it away, he stowed the towrope and hung the wet suit up to dry.

He’d just turned back when his boy suddenly flung himself at him and gave him a fierce hug. It was quick and awkward, and Austin shoved his hands in his pants pockets the instant he pulled back, studying the shed floor as if it suddenly contained a world-class hologram of his favorite video game. But Jake felt the residual effects of the hug right down to his soul.

“Thanks, Dad,” the teen said. And face flushed, he hurried into the cottage.

When the door banged closed behind him, Jenny, who’d been standing in the doorway, took Austin’s place in front of Jake. Reaching up, she cradled his cheek in her hand.

“You did good tonight,” she said with a gentle smile. And rising onto her toes, she pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. Settling back on her deck skimmers, she simply looked up at him for a moment, that slight smile playing around the edges of her lips. “Real good,” she reiterated.

Then turned and disappeared into the bungalow behind his son.

* * *

A
T
ELEVEN
-
THIRTY
THAT
NIGHT
Jenny stood outside Jake’s door. Austin had been asleep for nearly an hour, and once he went out he slept like the dead. But she still didn’t know quite what she was doing here.

For all she knew, one time with her was all Jake had been looking for. It wasn’t as if they’d talked about it after that cataclysmic encounter. He certainly hadn’t treated her any differently at this evening’s picnic, but then she couldn’t actually envision him doing so in front of Austin.

For her, however, their lovemaking had been like nothing she’d ever experienced. And as she’d told Tasha, she wanted more while she still could. So, silently encouraging herself to be bold, she shook out her hands, took a deep breath and tapped on Jake’s door before she could chicken out.

He pulled it open and stood in the doorway on bare feet, in the same jeans and shirt he’d worn earlier. “Hey.” A smile of greeting deepened the creases bracketing his mouth. “What brings you here?”

“Booty call.” It came out with amazing confidence even as she cringed inside.
Really?
That’s
what you come up with?

But apparently it worked for him, for his eyes lit up and he said, “Yeah?” and stepped back. “In that case, get your booty in here.”

She’d barely cleared the threshold before he slammed the door shut and crowded her against it. Hands and forearms slapping down on either side of her head, he bent his head and kissed her. And just like that, she was all in.

So was he, apparently, for the kiss turned fierce and one of his hands came off the door to settle on her breast. He raised his mouth a scant quarter inch from hers.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he said roughly and pulled her sweater over her head. Dropping it on the floor, he bent his knees to bring his face level with her bra and reached behind her to unfasten its back hooks. A second later, it joined her sweater.

Then he simply stared at her breasts, and she felt her nipples twist into aching points.

His tongue tip glided between his parted lips and he subtly oscillated the flat of it against the sharp edges of his top center teeth before retracting it. “You’ve got the sweetest tits.”

As usual, his blunt speech made that sheath deep between her thighs clench tight. The sensation only intensified as he kissed each nipple and gave the right one a leisurely suck. Then he gripped her butt and hauled her up.

A startled squeak escaped her. “Okay, that’s kind of embarrassing,” she said, feeling the burn heating her cheeks. “I sound like a six-year-old.” But she wrapped her legs around his hips and bumped squarely against the solid erection behind his fly. “Oh.” Eyes fluttering shut, she slowly ground against it. “Not feeling six now.”

Jake’s breath exploded out of him. “What is it about you?” he demanded, doing a slow grind of his own. “I’m like the
king
of foreplay with other women, but I always end up rushing you like a fourteen-year-old.”

“That so works for me.”

A gritty huff of laughter escaped him. “Yeah, me, too. God, Jenny. You’re so responsive it just blows my control all to hell.”

She cracked open a hopeful eye. “Does this mean you have a condom handy?”

A full-fledged laugh exploded from him. “In my wallet in my hip pocket. Or if you’d like to take this where I can display more finesse than up against the door, I’ve got an entire box in the bedroom.”

“I like it right here.” She reached around him, fumbling for his wallet. “I’ve never done it up against a door.”

“No? Then I’m happy to be of service.” He set her on her feet. “Strip,” he ordered, tugging his own shirt off before reaching for his fly.

In seconds they were both naked and Jake had rolled a condom on. He sank to his knees in front of her. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss on her abdomen just above the patch of curls over her mons. “We can spare a
couple
seconds for a little foreplay,” he said hoarsely and, sliding his thumbs into the wet slit between her legs, separated the lips there. “Sweet,” he whispered and gently lapped the pink flesh he’d exposed with the flat of his tongue.

Choking out his name, she clenched her fingers in his hair. “You’d better stop, youbetterstop youbetterstop,” she panted. But not only didn’t he, he slid two fingers into her. And she came in hot, fast pulsations.

He stayed with her until the last contraction faded, then extracted his fingers, surged to his feet and lifted her back against the door. The instant her arms went around his neck and her legs locked around his waist, he reached to thumb his erection down, bending his knees until he was aligned with her opening. “God,” he said. And thrust into her.

It was fast and rough and Jenny maintained a stranglehold on Jake’s neck as he thrust and retreated, thrust and retreated. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she panted mindlessly as all that sensation she’d thought satisfied sparked back to life. “Oh, God, Jake. It feels so—” He pulled almost, nearly, not quite out, then slammed back in. “Feels so—” Pulled out, slammed in. “Oh, God, I’m going to—”

“Come,” he gritted and this time when he plunged into her, he stayed to grind against her clitoris. “Come for me, Jenny.”

And she did, clenching and releasing around him over and over and over again.

“Jesus!” He bared his teeth, a long, gritty groan of satisfaction purling out of his throat as he, too, exploded.

Then his head thunked down on the door next to hers. “Damn. You’re killing me.”

“Tell me about it.” She was inertia personified, lethargic from head to toe, held in place only by his body leaning heavy against hers. She retained just enough motor skills to quirk up the corners of her lips and press a clumsy kiss to the tip of his ear. She smiled again when he shivered.

“On the other hand,” she breathed. “What a way to go, huh?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“J
ENNY
,
YOUR
TEN
-
THIRTY
interview is here.”

Glancing at her watch, Jenny smiled to see that the job applicant was five minutes early. It was always a bonus not to be kept waiting. “Thanks, Abby. I’ll be right out.”

A moment later she walked into the lobby. The only person currently there, aside from Abby behind the front desk, was a twentysomething biracial woman dressed with quirky, artistic flair in a brightly patterned jersey skirt that swirled around her boots and a long sleek tunic with a belt slung between her waist and hips.

She crossed to her. “Ms. Summerville?” She extended a hand. “I’m Jennifer Salazar, the general manager. We talked on the phone last week.”

“Hello.” The woman—whose first name was Harper, Jenny knew from her application—firmly shook her hand. “Thank you so much for seeing me.”

She blinked. Harper might be even taller than Tasha—something she couldn’t help but envy. And between the other woman’s imposing stature, that latte-with-an-extra-splash-of-cream complexion, those glossily dark, loose spiral curls and large olive-green eyes, Jenny’s first impression was of exotic, regal stylishness.

But rather aloof, which wouldn’t do at all for the position Jenny was looking to fill.

And then Harper smiled and her face animated into something downright joyful. Her eyes narrowed to merry crescents, and those full solemn lips turned into a wide heartlike shape that exposed not only her flawless white teeth but some of the healthy gums in which they were anchored. It was a smile of singular charm that transformed her from distantly removed to not just accessible but magnetic. Jenny felt as if she were the center of the other woman’s attention.

She smiled back. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Your résumé is very impressive.”

“May I quote you on that to my mother?” Harper laughed heartily even as her fingers brushed warmly against Jenny’s arm with unstudied tactility. “She wants nothing more than for me to quit jumping from job to job and pick one to settle into.” She grimaced. “Well, that or get married. Preferably to a doctor.”

“That’s mothers for you.” Most people’s anyway—her own hadn’t demonstrated much interest in her after Lawrence Salazar’s fall from grace, except to be mortified that she’d chosen to work as a maid at The Brothers.

As if, at sixteen, she’d been overburdened with choices.

Which was neither here nor there. “If it helps, you can tell her from me it was your variety of skills that struck the biggest spark with me. I’m looking for a social director, for lack of a better term, for the summer season and the number one qualification for the job is an ability to coordinate a number of activities. As it is—even with all the skills you bring to the table—this is only a three-quarter-time job. I need someone for around thirty to thirty-two hours a week.”

“That was actually one of the pluses when I read your ad on Craigslist. I have some money set aside, so I can get by on less hours. It’ll give me a little time to explore the peninsula.” Both her delicately arched brows and the corners of her lips quirked upward. “Well, depending on what you’re offering, that is. The ad didn’t really specify.”

Jenny named the hourly rate. “Plus room and board, of course. The accommodation isn’t particularly plush—it’s a little one-room-with-loft cottage up in the woods.”

“Please tell me an outhouse isn’t part of the package. Because that’s a deal breaker.”

Jenny laughed. “No. While there’s nothing fancy about the cottage, it’s not
that
primitive. You don’t have to share with a roommate and it boasts a little bathroom. Shower only, though, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” For an instant the other woman looked wistful. “I do like my baths.” Then she flashed that smile again. “But I’m sure I can make do for the short summer season.”

It struck Jenny that Harper’s ability to make a person feel as if she smiled for you alone was a very handy skill for someone in a people-oriented field.

She grinned back. “And on the bright side, the food in our restaurant is outstanding. If you’re in the mood to whip up something for yourself, however, there’s a hot plate, micro and college dorm-size fridge in the cabin.”

“So...are you offering me the job, then?”

“I’m definitely leaning in that direction, but let me show you around the inn and the grounds and the cottage that comes with the position. I’ll tell you what I envision for this position, and you can fill me in, in a little more detail than I got from your application, on your own vision. And don’t be afraid to speak up, because often instructors, with their superior experience in a given activity, come up with ideas that never in a gazillion years would have occurred to me. I do love it when someone has ideas for making things better.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Excellent. I have to tell you—I’ve never met a Harper before. I love the name.”

“Thanks. Mama adored
To Kill a Mockingbird.
” Harper grinned. “She considers Harper Lee a genius to this day.”

“It’s both unique and pretty—it suits you.” Then she got down to business, indicating the area around them with a sweep of her arm. “This, as you can see, is The Brothers’ lobby....”

* * *

A
USTIN
STOPPED
DEAD
where the lightly wooded path from the parking lot opened into the ballpark. He gaped at the scene in front of them. “Are you kidding me?”

“Whoa.” Nolan looked as taken aback as he felt. Still, he turned to Austin and grinned, clearly happy to be out and about at last. “Good thing we’re still having summer preview weather, huh? Because it looks like everyone and their freakin’ brother turned out for—” his voice dropped into stentorian tones “—Jake Bradshaw Photo Day.”

The entire town had been saying those exact words like wannabe sports announcers ever since the Razor Bay Blog had shouted, in bold-font headlines earlier in the week and again this morning, that
National Explorer
photographer Jake Bradshaw would be shooting the Bulldogs’ team pictures and yearbook. Nolan’s voice returned to its usual register. “WTF, man.” He stared at the dense mob swarming the stands. “Why are all those people jockeying for space on the bleachers?”

“Beats the crap outta me. Except for a couple, I don’t see anyone who’s got zip to do with the team.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen so many people in the stands!”

“I know. You’d think team pictures were a spectator sport or something.”

“Yeah.” Austin snorted. “We should get such a turnout at our games.” But he feared he might break out in an embarrassing giggle at any minute. Because for all his playing it cool, he was killer excited about today. And now that the initial shock was wearing off, he secretly got a charge out of the whole damn town being here. His dad was a big-deal photographer, he was taking
their
team photos and everyone wanted to see! How kickin’ was that?

His stock at school had shot up ever since he’d brought in two issues of
National Explorer Magazine
and shown off the photos his dad had taken to the kids who had drawled a bored “So?” when he or someone else on the team had boasted that Jake was taking their pictures.

But that wasn’t the only thing that had him pumped today. He was also beyond relieved at how happy he was to be hanging out with Nolan again. He knew he’d spent a lot of his friend’s bout with chicken pox wishing that it’d take its own sweet time clearing up. But now that Nolan had gotten the green light, Austin was totally jazzed. For a while he’d lost track of how good it felt to be around him.

The thing he wasn’t looking forward to was having to come clean to his best friend about his feelings for Bailey. But he figured he owed him that.

The question was, did he tell him before they got their pictures taken? Or after?

Now, he decided, taking a deep breath. He was just gonna feel like dog crap until he did, so he might as well get it out of the way. He exhaled with gusto. “I got something to tell you.”

“Yeah?” Nolan gave him an expectant look—and he chickened out.

“Where’s your cousin? I thought she’d be here.”

“She was on the phone with Aunt Debbie when I left, so Mom’s gonna bring her over.”

“Cool.” Then he sucked in and blew out a breath. “I, uh...really like her.”

“Sure.” Nolan shrugged. “Who doesn’t?”

“No, I mean I
really
like her. Like in wanna-kiss-her like her.”

Nolan stopped dead to stare at him. “You want to
kiss
her?”

“Jeez, dude, keep your voice down.” He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. Still, when he looked back at Nolan, he refused to backpedal like his inner chickenshit was screaming at him to do. He gave the other teen a jerky nod.

Nolan was quiet for a moment. Then he, too, nodded. “Okay. I guess I sorta get that. I had a massive crush on her last year.”

Austin felt his jaw sag and he firmed it up. “That’s perverted, dude. She’s your
cousin!
”

“Oh, get a grip. It’s not like I wanted to make cross-eyed babies with her. But she’s pretty and funny and she plays baseball better’n half the guys I know. Plus, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but she’s got boobies.” He raised his hands in a
whataya gonna do
gesture. “So, I wouldn’t have minded kissing her once or twice myself, ya know?”

“Did you try?”

“Nah. One day it just...I don’t know...no longer seemed like the best thing ever, the way it had up until then. The point is, though, for a while I
did.
So I get that you wanna.”

Austin was grateful for Nolan’s easy acceptance—but also nursing a major case of discouragement that had been growing the past couple of days and dampening his mood. “Yeah, like I’ve got any chance of actually doing it,” he admitted glumly. He wanted it so bad he could taste it. At the same time, he had an equally strong fear of making a fool of himself. “I’ve been making myself crazy trying to figure out how to go about it.”

“You oughta ask Jenny.”

“What?” The question was rhetorical, however, and appalled, he stared at his friend. “I can’t ask her!”

“Why not? She’s a girl—who better to know about these things?”

“I just can’t. Dude, she’s...
Jenny!
”

“I can’t help you, then, man, because that’s it—that’s all I’ve got.” He shook his head with a little glumness of his own. “Face it, unless there’s a spinning bottle involved, it’s not like
I’ve
had any success in the lip-lock department, either.”

* * *

“W
HO
THE
HELL
WOULD
’
VE
THOUGHT
I’d have to do crowd control at Little League picture day?”

“Not me.” Jake looked up at Max from where he squatted next to the third-base coach’s box. He felt a little crowded by all the people tramping over the field and diamond. He hadn’t even started yet and already the damn circus playing out around him had his schedule messed up. “Pass me that gray bag.”

“Where the hell is Jenny?” Max demanded, leaning down to snatch up the bag in question, then swinging it over to Jake. “I thought you blackmailed her into being your assistant.”

“Good question. I expected her by now. Hell, I let her off the hook already when I took all the ad shots without her help.”

“Well, there’s your problem right there.” His brother gave him a pitying look. “What kind of candy-ass blackmailer are you—you violated the first rule! Shit, Jake, demonstrate a weakness like that and you’ve blown any chance you ever had of controlling the sitch. I’m ashamed to call you broth...” His voice trailed away.

Jake, who was arranging lenses on a piece of felt in the order he’d need them, had no trouble ignoring the critique on his blackmailing technique, but glanced up at the sudden silence.

“Holy Jesus,” Max breathed, but since both his tone and expression were reverent as a monk’s seeing the Shroud of Turin, Jake guessed it wasn’t a blasphemy. “Who
is
that?”

He followed the general direction of Max’s gaze, but too damn many people were trampling the ballpark to pinpoint who Max was staring at. “You’ll have to narrow it down for me a little,” he said drily. “Who’s who?”

“The babe with Jenny.”

That got his attention. “Jenny’s here?” He rose to his feet.

“Yeah. Over there, see? Just this side of the path from the parking lot.”

Narrowing his search, Jake locked in on her.

“Woman’s a fucking goddess, right?” Max said.

Jake’s head whipping around, his eyebrows slamming together, he gave his brother an incredulous stare. “Jenny?” What the hell was Max doing looking at the woman he’d warned
him
against?

“What? No, you dumb shit.
Her!
” Max stabbed his forefinger in Jenny’s direction and for the first time Jake noticed the woman with her.

“Oh. Wow.” Max was right. The mixed-race woman towering next to Jenny was a looker, if you went for the stick-up-the-ass exotic princess type.

But his attention drifted back to the petite brunette at her side, and he watched Jenny look around the grounds. When her eyes tracked in his direction, he set off the flash. It attracted her gaze and he raised an arm to cement her attention.

She strolled over, the woman who had Max all hot and bothered—which was kind of a kick, now that he thought about it—at her side.

Jenny flashed them both a friendly smile as she fetched up in front of them. “Hey, there. Sorry I’m late. I was showing Harper around the inn.” She laughed. “Where are my manners—let me introduce you. Harper, this is Jake Bradshaw, the reason today’s turnout is such a spectacle, and his brother, Max Bradshaw—”

“Half brother,” Max interrupted, and Jake gave him a shot to the shoulder. He put some power behind his fist, too, but Max, being Max, didn’t even rock back on his heels.

“Time to let it go, bro,” Jake said.

Max merely hitched a big shoulder, and Jenny picked up as smoothly as though there’d been no interruption, “—Jake’s half brother, Max, who is Razor Bay’s favorite deputy. Jake, Max, meet Harper Summerville, The Brothers’ brand-new fun and games director.”