Page 8 of Loving Jake

Jake’s hand paused in mid-air, the slice of pizza never making it to his mouth. “Really?”

She tilted her head slightly to the side. Her brows arched high on her forehead, and her eyes followed them. “You are such a typical guy. And the answer is, no. I live with a St. Bernard, Jake. I doubt Daisy would be impressed with a teddy. Besides, I prefer comfort over style,” she responded defensively, crossing her legs in front of her.

She took a bite of her pizza and swallowed. “Let me guess. You’re one of those men who wears silk pajamas to bed? I’m right, aren’t I?” she teased playfully. She was determined to keep her eyes focused on his face, refusing to allow her attention to wander to his chest, despite her desire to check-out every exposed inch of his muscle laden torso.

“Actually, I don’t wear any… let’s just say, I don’t wear silk pajamas,” he hastily amended.

He set what was left of his slice of pizza down on the box. “Kim.” He released an exaggerated breath. “I guess this is as good as time as any to discuss this.” He paused and took a drink from his beer before placing the empty bottle down on the floor. He ran a swift hand over the hair confined at his nape, and he stared down at his half-eaten pizza. “Since my divorce, womenhaven’t exactly been on the top of my priority list. Not that I don’t like them anymore…” His head darted up, and he looked straight into her dark eyes and softly chuckled.

She watched him struggle to explain. She wondered about it, her lips twitching with possibilities. “Ah, okay.”

“What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to worry about me bringing women here. I wouldn’t do that to you. I respect the fact that I’m a guest in your house, but that’s not to say if you, ah, you know. I mean, I never stopped to think before that maybe, perhaps, I’m invading your privacy? I want you to know if you have someone, you know, staying overnight.” He coughed uneasily. “You can tell me to go and get lost. I can get a hotel room, or...what the hell is so funny?” He paused, and his eyebrows narrowed over his eyes. He was obviously irritated because she found humor in what was an awkward conversation for him. A warm thrilled cursed through her.

“You.” She laughed and quickly placed her bottle of beer down on the floor. “Jake.” She rubbed her palm down the leg of her sweatpants. “I’m sorry, and you tried to be so serious, too. It’s just that I’m at home painting your room on a Friday night. I’m not an expert, but I would have to assume that’s not a great example of an active love life.” She straightened her back, and her expression became serious. “I guess, whatI’mtrying to say is that I don’t have much of a social life either, particularly in the area of overnight guests. Not that I’d object…. I mean, ah...” The words tumbled out before she had a chance to stop them. Hurriedly, she reached for their empty beer bottles before uncrossing her legs and standing up.

“Why don’t we drown our dull lives in another beer?” she suggested with an inquiring tilt of her brows toward the bottles.

Jake smiled at her, and she was reminded of why she found him so irresistible. His lips, while not overly generous, were apale rust color, and when they curved into a grin, and they often did, she wanted to reach out and trace them with her fingertips.

“Sounds good, although I can’t guarantee what the walls will look like after I’ve had a few beers,” he answered. He stood up, stretching to his full height.

Fascinated by the sight of him raising his arms above his head in a lazy sigh, Kimberly found herself unable to watch him without wanting to drool. He closed his eyes, which gave her the opportunity to study him without his knowledge. His chest was covered in a soft golden matte of hair that gradually tapered into a V down his torso, until it disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. She wanted nothing more than to trace the outline of each finely defined muscle in his taut stomach with her fingernails. She raised her eyes and found him returning her gaze with an amused expression in his eyes. She quickly looked away. “I, ah, will be right back,” she stammered before fleeing the room.

It wasn’t until she was safely in the kitchen that she was able to breathe normally again. If ever a man could be described as beautiful, it was Jake Taylor. A jolt of longing coursed through her, and she brought her fist to her mouth. Before she knew it, she found herself leaning against the refrigerator door for support because her knees had gone weak. “Get control of yourself,” she whispered under her breath. “Jake is here for a short time, and it is not because of you. At least not until you figure out how to change his mind otherwise, which, by the way, Kimberly Urbane, you suck at.” She opened the refrigerator door and reached inside for two bottles of beer.

A quick glance out the kitchen window reminded her to check on Daisy. “Daisy?” she called out the back door. “There you are, girl. How are you doing, sweetie?” She walked out to the back porch and then sat on the edge of a wicker chair. Daisy took the opportunity to jump up and slather a series of sloppykisses across her face, and Kimberly felt some of her earlier anxiety disappear.

“I know you want to come in, but not while we are painting. I read online that you could get sick if you lick any paint, which we both know is something you would try to do, so you’re staying outside for a little while longer. Yes, I know, Daisy, I’ll miss you too,” she crooned, amused by the dog’s attempt to sit on her lap.

She gave Daisy one last pat on her shaggy head before returning indoors. Kimberly was grateful for the warm night air and that Daisy could stay outside and out of trouble. She sighed, if only she could do the same thing.

Jake was waiting for the drink she offered to get him, and she couldn’t stay in the kitchen avoiding him forever. She grabbed a beer with each hand and left the room. Remember, you want him to get to know you, so stop staring at him like you want to jump his bones. Just don’t look at his bare chest, and you’ll be all right, she silently repeated as she climbed the stairs. Or his muscular arms, she mentally added with another step. Or his sinewy back, or his chiseled cheekbones, or.... “I am in so much trouble,” she whispered anxiously before entering the room.

“Did you run out to the grocery store for more beer?”

He put the paintbrush down, wiped his hands on a rag, and then reached for the beer she handed out to him. “Thanks.” Jake twisted off the cap and took a long, slow drink from the bottle. Kimberly watched him, mouth gaping, until she realized what she had done and quickly returned to her seat on the floor. She anxiously moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.

She looked up at him and a playful grin creased his lips before he turned away and reached for the paintbrush again. “I went out back to check on Daisy.” She placed her beer beside her, reached for one of the few remaining boxes of photos in theroom, and then placed it on her lap. She had to get in control of her emotions and not make them so obvious around him. She was not a silly girl with a crush on him; she was a strong, independent woman who loved him. She needed to show him the difference, and so far, despite her admittedly weak attempts, all she had done was drool over him. She sucked in a deep breath and reached inside of the box.

“I hope Miss Daisy isn’t too upset because we’re inside eating pizza, while she’s forced to stay outside?”

“Ha, no, she’s fine.”

He painted for several more minutes before he remarked, “By the way, where did the name Daisy come from? Kind of unexpected for a two-hundred-pound St. Bernard. You mentioned that she didn’t have any tags. I assume you named her?”

“It was simple.” She looked up from the photographs she had been sorting to gaze back at him. Once again, she found herself staring at his backside and did not complain one bit about it. Low rider jeans really were one of the world’s greatest inventions. She ran her tongue over her lips and forced herself to hold back a sigh of longing. “Growing up, the only true animal lovers in my family were my grandmother and me. Grandma always had at least a few stray animals living with her, dogs, cats, even a pig for a while.” She paused and put a photo in a pile with several others. “Once I knew I planned to keep the big fur ball and had to think of a name for her, I instantly thought of my grandmother.”

“And your grandmother’s name was Daisy?”

“Of course not.” She giggled, unable to stop herself. “My grandmother’s name was Lily. Daisies were her favorite flower. A St. Bernard named Lily would sound ridiculous, Jake.”

Jake twisted his upper body from his place on the step ladder to look down at her. “Kim.” His deep, rich voice waspeppered with laughter. “You have a very witty sense of humor.”

She smiled back at him, pleased by his compliment, and returned her attention to the stack of photos.

“Does your grandmother live in the Bay area?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

She looked up from a photograph of Daisy that she had taken a few days after she had found her and smiled longingly. “Actually, she died five years ago.”

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