Page 33 of You Wish
Jake slung an arm around her shoulders. “You don’t have to worry. I have it all under control,” he lied.
He didn’t have jack shit under control. This morning was proof that the longer he was around Georgia the further away their past seemed to move.
“So have you started on the barn?” she asked.
“I have a to-do list.”
“Liar. I bet you haven’t even stepped foot in it to see what’s left. By now all your hard work will probably need to be redone.”
“I just don’t see why I can’t hire someone to finish it.”
“Because money doesn’t create memories.”
“Nowyousound like Grandma.”
“Take that back. And if it helps your cause, I’ll hold your hand while you take a gander.”
“Take a gander? Who are you, Dolly Parton? I thought it was bad for business to talk southern.”
“It’s called speaking in a southern accent, and I went through years of lessons to get rid of it because Europeans assumey’allmakes me an idiot. But one day in Pine Village and the redneck is back.”
“I like your idiot side. It makes you more approachable.”
“Approach this.” Rachel flipped him the bird.
12
Jake paused, his foot nearly slipping off the brake, heart stuttering at the sight of Georgia walking his way. She was on her own catwalk, strutting his way, heels clicking like a punctuation.
He couldn’t look away, his eyes locked in on those legs that were as breathtaking as a winter’s night. The more time he was around her the stronger this attraction grew. He wanted to work this out in the sheets. While she likely wanted to knee him in the nuts.
Henry called last night to check in and, wouldn’t you know it, Jane was on the other line with Georgia. From what Henry could gather, and it wasn’t much, she didn’t think he was a complete asshole anymore. Not that it mattered. Jane made it clear that ever since she landed this project she’d gone on a dating hiatus. So even if they could overcome his globe-trotting job, he didn’t stand a chance in hell.
There he was, doing the thing he hated most—promotions—in hopes of, well, he wasn’t sure. But it felt important.
He knew the minute she spotted him behind the driver’s wheel of one of the antique cars. She halted like she’d hit a wall.
He pulled the car in line with her and rolled down the window. He met her frown with a shit-eating grin.
“Morning, darlin’.”
Jake revved the engine of the 1963 Ferrari 250 GTO. Only thirty-six had been made, making this the ultimate trophy car. A few years back one sold at auction for nearly fifty million. Being able to be in its presence was incredible. Driving it, even fifty feet, was a dream come true.
“If you could smirk less like you're in a cologne ad and more like you’re the face of an elite sport, that’d be great.”
“Thisismy elite sport face. You’re just distracted by the smirk.”
“Distracted? Please. I’ve seen mannequins with more range.”
“You sure? Because I saw that little eyebrow twitch earlier. That’s your ‘he’s annoying but kind of hot’ face.”
“That's my ‘he’s two seconds from a cease and desist’ face”
Fact: She did not detest him, he was starting to think it was the opposite. Fact: The nonstop bickering between them was foreplay. Fact: She liked him more than she was letting on. Fact: He could fall for her all over again. If only he knew she’d stay. And that was a bigif.
“What was he supposed to say after you offered him VIP tickets to the race in Monaco?”
“Nowhere in the rules did it say I can’t use my connections.”
