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“Sure!” she answered, grabbing her purse from the bar.
Jake pretended he wasn’t surprised by this turn of events and moved quickly toward the saloon door to hold it open for her. “It’s two blocks. Are you okay in heels?”
She tossed him a smile. “Oh, I can walk just fine in heels.”
“I see that,” he said, unable to help himself. Her curves were delicious and he could still feel the ghost of her thigh under his fingers, so damn soft and warm. And now she was coming to his house. Just so he could grab his keys and give her a ride home, though. Not for...any other kind of ride. He assumed.
But just the idea of that possibility was enough to heighten his senses. Her shoulder bumped companionably against his as they strolled and talked. She laughed up at him, her eyes so warm and happy, and Jake’s heart twisted with a pain that felt sweet and right. He’d been avoiding her all these years, trying to forget how much he’d always liked her. How well they’d always gotten along as friendly acquaintances. At a Christmas party nine or ten years before, they’d spent an hour talking about horror novels and how they were nearly always ruined when made into movies. He’d forgotten that conversation, but he remembered it now. Her laugh. Her sharp mind. The way she touched him when she was making a point.
But no matter if he’d found her attractive before, he hadn’t let himself think of her sexually. Still, just admitting that was a condemnat
ion. That he’d always had to stop himself from thinking about her that way.
But tonight...tonight was a very different animal. Tonight the temptation of something forbidden transformed warm friendship into something sharp and dangerous. He’d known her as a friend. Now he wanted to know her differently. Know her body and her needs and what made her gasp. What made her wet.
The stunning thought of Lauren wet—wet for him—hit Jake square in the gut, and the shock radiated out from there. He felt his cock starting to swell, and was half horrified, feeling like a teenage boy walking a girl home and knowing her house was empty.
“This is it,” he said roughly, gesturing toward his front porch. “I just need to grab my keys. Unless you’d like to come in for a drink?”
“Sure,” she said again, just that easy, as if she was letting this unfold naturally instead of torturing herself about it. Well, shit. Maybe he should try that.
It wasn’t until he was opening the door that he remembered Annabelle. His arm stuttered to a stop, but the rest of his body was still moving forward, and he nearly nailed himself in the forehead with his own front door. Dammit.
Hoping he didn’t look as awkward as he felt, Jake forced himself to push the door open and sighed with relief when he saw that all the rooms were still dark. Annabelle wasn’t home. She always left a trail of lights on as if she were still five years old and afraid of the dark. It was nearly ten o’clock, so Annabelle was likely spending the night with Kevin. That evidence of adulthood had been hard for Jake to accept up until tonight. Tonight he was damn glad for Annabelle’s relationship.
“I’ve got Scotch. It’s nothing too fancy, but probably better than what they serve at the saloon.”
As he turned on lights, Lauren wandered over to look at the old pictures of Annabelle on the living room wall. “She’s getting married in a few months,” he said as he handed Lauren a Scotch and sipped from his own. “To Kevin. From the station.”
“I heard. Congratulations.”
He waited for her to sit on the couch before following her lead. “Thanks. They grow up fast.”
“Mmm. Sometimes it didn’t feel all that fast to me. High school homework, Little League practice...”
Jake choked on a laugh. “You know what? You’re right. Everyone says it goes fast, but some of Annabelle’s teen years dragged on for a damn long time.”
“I’ll drink to that,” she said, then made a little noise of pleasure. “That is nice Scotch. I’m glad you invited me in.”
“Is that all it takes to make you happy? Midpriced Scotch?”
She laughed, but as her laughter died away, her eyes snapped with heat. “No, actually. It takes more than that to make me happy.”
Her voice had gone low and warm, and regardless of worry or guilt, Jake was damn sure not going to miss that hint. “Lauren,” he said, setting down his drink. “Are you drunk?”
“I’m a little buzzed.”
“How buzzed?”
Her gaze slipped down to his chest. “Buzzed enough to tell you that I love watching you run without a shirt on.”
“Oh.” That blasted all thought from his brain and left him blank for a moment.
“You’re really sexy. I shouldn’t tell you that, but I’m buzzed and I really want to tell you.”
“Lauren—”
“Because you walk around without a shirt like it’s no big deal. Like you don’t even know. And, Jake? It’s really, really...” She reached out her hand slowly, fingers brushing over the fabric of his shirt. “Distracting.”
