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Gina’s face goes blank. “He rents my guest house,” she screams back.
“Hey,” Gray says to my friend.
“Hello,” Gina answers more coldly than I’ve ever seen her.
Well this is interesting. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there are some serious vibes of the sexual variety swirling around here. Except I know better, and Gina likes them older––a lot older. Last guy she dated was forty-five.
We order and since it’s a Thursday night there’s no chance in hell we’re getting a table. I’m slowly sipping my drink when someone bumps into me from behind. The guy apologizes and offers to buy me a drink. I show him I already have one and he moves on.
“I’ll be right back,” Gray yells in my ear. I nod and watch him take off, pushing through the crowd.
A few minutes later I’m standing alone when the guy who bumped into me earlier swings back around. “Hey, good timing, he says pointing to my empty glass. “Can I get you another?”
“No, dude. She’s with me.”
My attention jerks up…to find Jake standing behind the guy. He’s dressed in black and looking like the return of the Grim Reaper, his face arranged in a harsh expression. And yet my stomach flips and heart flutters. This is baaaad.
“Hi.”
“Let’s get out of here,” he says to me.
Just like that. Like he expects me to obey. “I’m with friends.”
“Yeah, she’s with me,” the guy who wants to buy me a drink says. It actually surprises me to see him still standing there.
“I’m not with him,” I say to Jake. Then turn to glare at the guy. “I don’t even know you.” My eyes skip right back to Jake. “I’m with Gray.”
“Who’s Gray?” both Jake and the guy say.
“I’m Gray,” Gray says, suddenly appearing behind me.
“Let’s go,” Jake says. And now I’m on the my way to getting a little angry. He leaves town without a word, but I have to jump through hoops like a trained seal the minute he snaps his fingers?
“No.”
“Carrie…”
“I’m here with friends, Jake. Stay or go, but I’m staying.”
“Man, you’re gonna let your girl talk to you like that?” the drink guy says.
“Shut up,” both Jake and I answer.
He stares at me for a beat, then his glare moves to Gray. Then he turns and walks out.
Two hours later I’m back at the Austen.
“Did you have fun with what’s-his-name?”
The question comes from the man sitting in the dark on the porch of his cottage, lawn chair tipped back and legs resting on the railing.
Oh, the drama.
I sat in a corner pounding Diet Cokes by myself because there was no way I was coming back here to give him the satisfaction. I’m not putting up with that nonsense from someone I have no claim on.
“Yes, I did. Thanks for asking. And his name is Gray.” He cannot be seriously jealous of Gray. This cannot be why he’s acting a fool. “Did you enjoy making an ass out of yourself?”
He takes a pull of his beer and sits upright, his chair thumping on the hollow wood.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Gray works with me at the paper. He’s a friend, and you were rude to him. Look around you, Jake. I don’t exactly have a ton of those so I would like to keep him.”
“I’m your friend,” he says quietly.
“Are you? Because you sure don’t act like it sometimes. One minute you’re hot. The next you’re cold. I can’t keep up with you anymore. You have more moods than I did when I was thirteen!”
“Shut up!” someone in the Whitman cottage shouts.
I slap my hands over my mouth muffling a burst of laughter. “Inside,” I whisper, pointing to the Austen.
Without a backward glance, I walk into the cottage, unsure if he’ll follow, but a minute later he shuts the door behind him. His head hung low, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, every inch of him looking as remorseful as he should.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he says to the carpet. “I’m sorry.” His gaze lifts to mine and the heat I find there is unmistakable. “I wanted you to myself tonight and I didn’t handle it well.”
Somebody beat on my chest. I think I just flatlined. Remorseful Jake is my favorite Jake so far, so sexy I want to peel that black t-shirt off his body with my teeth. Or maybe I’ll just let him take mine off first.
He steps closer and a thought hits me. “Jake, I’m leaving.”
His brows lower. “You’re leaving?”
“Not now…not tomorrow. But someday soon. I’m going back to L.A. the first chance I get.”
He looks away, thoughtful. “If this is your way of telling me you don’t want this, just say so.”
Turning, he walks out before I’ve gotten a chance to sort out all the strange and wonderful ways his mind works. I mean, sensitive is an understatement.
