But being in a small space like the front seat of a car with him? Well, that’s a whole other story altogether. At least now that I know him it is.
I’m shocked at my own actions when I realize I’m sneaking sideways glances at him as I drive us along back roads to my parents’ house.
“Are you checking me out, Richards?” His voice is literally smooth like velvet. Like a velvety hot chocolate on a winter’s night.
And this girl is thirsty.
“Nope.” Keeping my eye focused on the road ahead, I give a little head nod in the direction I’m driving. “I’m a one-way kind of gal. Focusing on one thing at a time.”
“A one-way kind of gal, huh?” he asks, his tone teasing.
“Just, shush,” I say, laughing. “And also, enjoy the payback of getting a ride with a stranger. I should drive like a bat out of hell and freak you out the whole way back.”
“But you’re not a stranger anymore, are you?” He pokes my shoulder with one finger playfully. “You’re Travis’s little sister.”
“That I am.” This man smells like sweat, clean sheets, and sandalwood. Why in the world is that combination even appealing to me right now? “He said you’re his best friend.”
Jake nods, shifting in his seat a little. “Your brother has been good to me over the years. We were friends before I signed with him.”
“Friends first, huh?” I can’t hide the grin that plays on my lips. “You know, our parents always said that the best relationships start that way. It’s how their love story started.”
“Well, to be fair, he’s not really my type.” He leans across the seat, closer to me. “He’s a little more intense than I usually date.”
“Fair enough,” I say with a chuckle, slowing to turn down my old street.
“So, the croissants,” Jake says slowly, drawing out each word so its syllables are longer than ever.
Narrowing my eyes, I throw a look in his direction. “What about them?”
“They’re really good. Are you going to open a bakery?”
“Me? No way. This is something I’m doing to help bring in extra cash right now. I want to be a personal chef—cater private functions and work with people on meal delivery. I’ve got a one-year plan. I’m in my testing and practice mode now.”
“One-year plan?”
Turning into the driveway of my former home, I kill the ignition and turn in my seat to face Jake. He has boy-next-door vibes happening right now like nobody’s business. My stomach dips as my eyes lock with his.
“This year, I’m putting myself out there and working on both larger functions that I can cater while I also hone my personal chef skills. Mostly on friends at the moment.” Movement from the house catches my eye, and I look up to see my motherstanding in the front bay window watching us with a phone pressed to her ear, waving.
Jake follows where my eyes are tracking and lifts a hand to wave. “She’s also intense, your mom. I see where Travis gets it from, but she’s really nice.”
“She’s one of my clients right now.” Lifting a shoulder in the air, I sigh. “I got my first big break thanks to my mommy.”
“You have to start somewhere. She seems like a busy woman. At dinner last night, she mentioned like, eight different clubs and committees she’s a part of. What does she have you cater?”
“A few months ago, my mom hosted a fundraiser for a local food bank. All the money goes toward meals and grocery items for families in the area who are having it rough.”
“That’s a great cause, and one I heard about last night, too,” he says with a chuckle.
“That’s my mom. For this particular fundraiser, she’d talked a local French chef into doing a private meal for eight people as one of the auction items. Sadly, the chef had to pull out a few weeks ago due to a family emergency back in France. She was stuck, but Dad suggested I step in.” Laughing softly, I shake my head at the memory. “She didn’t like the idea at first, but I made a case for myself. I was sure I could do it, until she said yes. Then every doubt I’ve ever had about myself seemed to appear in front of me. It doesn’t help that she likes to remind me that her reputation is intertwined with mine.”
Another flicker of movement from the house pulls my attention. We both watch as the curtains sway closed and Mom disappears from our view. It makes me a little twitchy. I start looking in my rearview mirror and out the windows, which Jake picks up on pretty quickly.
“What are you doing?”
“She’s like a shark. When I can’t see her, I know she’s in the water.” Turning around in my seat, I look at the road behind usand grab my heart. I don’t think as I reach out and put my hand on Jake’s forearm—his very large, hard, and impressive forearm—and grip it to get his attention. “Look! I told you. She’s at the mailbox now.”
Jake swivels in his seat, his eyes widening, but he doesn’t move his arm from underneath my hand. “How did she do that?”
