Page 13 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love
“I’m just not very good at this sort of thing,” Faith confessed, lowering her gaze to the buttons on his shirt.
“But you’re the Love Doctor.” The way she stiffened in his arms was instant, and Jake’s expression shifted to one of regret. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless.”
“Exactly,” she said, her voice cooling. “I give people advice on their love lives. That doesn’t mean I want one of my own. Men seem to either put me on a pedestal or expect me to be some kind of sex fiend. What you’re feeling isn’t real—it’s an infatuation. And I’m not interested in starting something that will leave me picking up pieces when reality sets in.”
“I see,” Jake said, his tone thoughtful. “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience. I don’t like being compared to someone who hurt you.”
“Let me go,” Faith said quietly, the warmth of the moment entirely gone. She went very still, her coffee cup frozen halfway to her lips.
Jake watched her shoulders tense, saw the way she suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes, and knew he’d struck a nerve. Faith needed patience and persistence, a slow courtship that would ease past her defenses before she even realized they’d fallen.
“No, I don’t think I will let you go,” he said finally, his voice gentle. “But I’ll hold off on the kissing. For now,” he added with a hint of his earlier playfulness. “How about I bring you coffee every morning? Maybe something sweet to go with it?”
“I don’t like donuts,” she said, her posture relaxing slightly as she accepted his wordless apology.
“What do you like?”
“Chocolate éclairs,” she admitted with a small, calculating smile that made his heart skip.
“Okay, fresh coffee and chocolate éclairs,” Jake agreed. “And I’ll bring dinner every night until your kitchen is finished and functional. Then you can return the favor and cook for me.”
“First of all,” she said, holding up a finger, “I work in the evenings. I usually pick something up on the way to the station. Second, I’ve never cooked a day in my life. A woman named Gretchen has fed me since I was a little girl, and she’ll continue to do so when the kitchen’s finished. She refuses to move into the carriage house until the main house is fixed.”
“Smart woman,” Jake nodded appreciatively. “Do you think Gretchen would cook for me too?”
“No. Hire your own cook. Your grandmother tells me you have plenty of money that you just leave lying around so you can pretend to be common like most of the rest of the world.”
The teasing light had returned to her eyes, and Jake felt a surge of victory at having navigated their first minor conflict.
“I’ve been thinking it might be better invested in the future,” he said, watching her carefully. “Perhaps a solid foundation for the next generation.” He smiled at her alarmed expression. “All right, never mind,” he said before she could protest. “Don’t get flustered. You’re cautious—I like that in a woman.”
“Are you always this presumptuous?” Faith asked, trying to sound stern despite the flutter in her chest at his casual mention of future generations.
“Shh,” he said, pressing a finger gently to her lips. “I wouldn’t want you to say something you’ll regret later. Here’s my final offer: We’ll have lunch together here during the weekdays, where I’ll quietly convince you that I’m worth taking a chance on. I’ll take you somewhere nice on the weekend—somewhere with tablecloths and candles and no construction dust. And then we’ll see where things lead. Because I very much want to know everything about you, Faith Hartwell.”
Faith felt her breath catch at the sincerity in his voice. “I think maybe we should keep our minds on food for the time being.”
“You’ll never look at dining the same way after you’ve shared a meal with me,” he promised, tracing a gentle path from behind her ear to her chin with one finger. “I believe in savoring every moment, every taste.”
The innocuous words somehow felt like the most intimate promise, and Faith felt her resolve wavering. “You could make me want this,” she admitted, her voice unsteady. “And I might give in. But I’m not going to change my mind about anything serious between us. I can’t do it. I won’t do it.”
“I know exactly what I’m getting into,” Jake said, his expression earnest. “What I feel for you hit me like lightning, Faith, whether you believe me or not. It took just one moment, and I’m willing to be patient, to work for a chance. That’s all I’m asking for—a chance.”
He stood, helping her to her feet with a gentle squeeze of her hand before releasing her. “Now let’s get you out of here. The kitchen’s one of the first projects on the agenda.”
Faith followed him outside, trying to process what had just happened. Jake Murphy was determined to pursue her, despite her clear warnings. He didn’t seem like a man accustomed to rejection, but neither did he seem like the type to give up easily.
“What’s that?” Faith asked, gesturing toward the large trailer hitched to Jake’s pickup.
“That’s my traveling office. It’s fully equipped with a kitchenette, bathroom, and a bed, so you’ll have somewhere comfortable while we’re working. I’m leaving it here so you can get a decent night’s sleep without worrying about ceilings collapsing on you in the middle of the night.”
Faith pulled back slightly. “But I wanted to help with the house,” she said, disappointment evident in her voice.
“You can help when it’s time to make decisions on structural changes or color schemes,” Jake assured her. “But I need your help with something else while I’m working. You see, if Gran isn’t kept occupied, she has a tendency to get into trouble. You’d be doing me a huge favor if you spent time with her during the day. You can set up your own office space in the trailer and bring whatever work you need to do.”
Faith recognized defeat when she saw it. If he didn’t want her underfoot, he could have simply said so rather than assigning her to grandmother-sitting duty. The man was devious.
“Fine,” she said with exaggerated primness. “I’d love to spend time with your grandmother. I’m sure I’ll get quite an education. Maybe she’ll loosen me up a little. You were the one who called me cautious a few minutes ago, weren’t you?” She batted her eyelashes with mock innocence, delighting in the flash of concern that crossed his face.
