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She stood glaring at him with her hands on her hips. "What did you do, Jake? Why did you do it?" She wasn't furious, but she was definitely put out.
He knew immediately what she was referring to. How could he not? With a kid that had so much to say?
He looked her up and down. "Hell. I didn't expect her to talk so much. I didn't know she would want my life story and try to set us up. I was just curious to know if that was her. The pictures on your desk at work are of a little girl and I never paid any attention to them. Crap, she's a talker." That explained, he pushed off the door. Enough standing around. He hadn't breathed her scent since Friday. Too goddamn long.
Amy let him wrap his arms around her. "All right, then. No harm done. But, please, Jake, don't break my rule. I don't know how I would explain this to her."
Jake pushed against her. "Your rule. What about my rule? Who the fuck is Coach Guidry and why the hell does he have your number?"
Amy was startled. She needed to teach Kayla some discretion. "He's the soccer coach at the high school and he's Kayla's social studies teacher. We met at convocation and then again at the first parent-teacher conference. It's nothing. It's no big deal."
Jake growled. "Stay the fuck away from him Amy. Don't take his goddamn calls anymore. He just wants to get in your pants, I can promise you that. He's a no good son of a bitch to be hitting on one of his student's mothers." His fingers bit into her hips.
Amy was shocked at the vitriol spilling from him. And sort of thrilled. She placed her hands on his chest and rubbed in a soothing motion. "I'm not interested in him, Jake." She reached up and whispered a kiss onto his mouth. "It's just you. There's nobody else." Her lips parted and she took his bottom lip into her mouth. "Do you want me to show you?" She looked up through her lashed into his eyes.
He was looking at her with possessive force in his gaze.
She slid her hands between them to his fly. She rubbed him through the stiff material. Licked his bottom lip again. She started on his zipper and quickly released his straining erection. She wrapped her hand around him. He hissed in oxygen at her touch. She sank to her knees in front of him and set out to prove that he was the only one.
Chapter Eight
After Amy dropped Kayla off at the airport on Friday night, she drove straight
to Jake's house. It was a month ago today that they had started their affair. She parked in his driveway, next to his truck. He opened the backdoor before she could even knock.
"Hey, babe." Jake pulled her inside and kissed her quickly on the lips. He took her bags from her and dropped them on the table. "Got everything you need?" He walked around to the stove and stirred something that simmered there.
"Yes. I think so." Amy wasn't sure about this. He had planned for her to stay the weekend. They hadn't even spent a night together yet. Sometimes she had the sense that he would swallow her whole if she let him.
"Are you hungry? I haven't eaten yet. Make yourself at home, babe." He opened the refrigerator and started rummaging around inside. He pulled out stuff for a salad and a loaf of French bread.
Now she knew what to do. She was nothing if she wasn't a good cook. "Where's a bowl?" He pointed up and she opened the cabinet and took out what she needed. For two people who had never even shared a meal before, they worked in companionable silence.
Soon, they were sitting together with the remains of the spaghetti dinner between them. A bottle of red wine sat between them, almost empty. She swirled her glass around and enjoyed the soft warmth flowing through her veins. She softly smiled at him. "You're a good cook. Where'd you learn?"
Jake leaned over and kissed her softly. He lifted his lips. "Well, a man's got to eat, sweetheart." He topped up her wine. "I guess I've always known the basics. Mom taught the girls and made me watch most of the time. I used to get mad when she made me come inside, but I guess that I actually learned something. It's not Cordon Bleu, but I probably won't ever starve."
He stood up and picked up their plates. "Come here, and I'll show you something else she taught me." Amy picked up the utensils and followed him over to the counter. She watched him open the dishwasher. He slipped the two plates in. She slipped in the utensils and then he closed the door. "Dishes are done."
Amy looked around in surprise and laughed. "They sure are. That's amazing."
"Yeah, her first rule was that you clean up while you are cooking. It works every time." He grabbed the wine and glasses and strolled through to the living room.
She teased him as she followed him in. "I would love to meet the Goddess of domestic tranquility that taught you all these wonderful things." She curled up beside him.
"Anytime, sweetheart. My mother would love you. In fact, we can reserve tickets for next month." He paused and waited for the argument that would come. He wasn't wrong.
"Jake. I was teasing. You know I can't meet your parents. That would be--that would be--"
Jake frowned. "That would be too much like a relationship. You don't want that."
"You don't want it either, you know you don't--"
"Like hell I don't. Why wouldn't I? I'm too old to keep sneaking around. I've got nothing to hide. I'm not cheating on anybody. I'm not hurting anybody. You're the one that has a problem with me. Too damn bad I'm not a soccer coach." His voice was sharp.
"Jake, don't. Don't say that. We're just having fun. You said so yourself. No relationship. No commitment--"
"Bullshit. No commitment, my ass. We've had a commitment since the second night together, and you damn well know it. Do you think something bad will happen to me if you come out and admit you're mine? Do you think you will jinx it or something? Babe, what's going to happen is going to happen. If something tragic did happen, do you think you would miss me more if your friends knew we were together?"
