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“Kind of like you?”
Jake’s eyes widened. “That’s different, and you know it.”
Of course it was, but she couldn’t help herself. Raine set her elbows onto the table and cocked an eyebrow. “How so?”
He leaned forward, his spicy, earthy scent floating in the air between them. Raine was aware her pulse exploded and kicked into overdrive. And God, she was so hot…hot and sweaty all of a sudden.
Jake stared at her for several long moments before answering. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gruff. “Because I’m a grown man and I don’t need my parents to get me through life. I do just fine on my own.”
No shit, she thought.
“You never used to be so…” She licked her lips and glanced down at her hands. Her wedding ring and diamond looked huge on her third finger, all the more so because she’d lost so much weight in the last few months.
“What?” he prodded.
Raine exhaled a long shuddering breath and whispered, “Hard.”
His eyes pierced her. “Better that than a”—he nodded behind him—“damn skirt.”
“So”—Raine leaned forward—“when you say ‘skirt,’ you’re making a derogatory female reference, correct?”
Jake frowned. “Not really. I just mean the guy is a wimp.”
“And because I wear a skirt from time to time, I’m somehow defective? Weak?”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“Then what did you mean exactly, Mr. Edwards?” A crack of something lit up inside her and her chest tightened. God, she missed Jake more than she wanted to admit.
The darkness in him seemed to soften and he cocked his head to the side, a smile pulling on his mouth. “Well, Mrs. Edwards, what I’m trying to say is that Matt Backhouse isn’t the guy for you. You’d scare the crap out of him, and he wouldn’t know what to do with you.”
“I—” she sputtered, feeling strangely exhilarated.
And hot. And bothered.
“I would scare him? What the hell does that mean?” She grabbed her water and finished the glass, slamming it down onto the table as if she’d just downed an entire jug of beer.
“He’s a skirt, and someone like you needs a guy with a hell of a lot more backbone.”
“Really,” she said carefully, not liking the way his dark eyes settled on her. “And why is that?”
He grinned at her just as the house lights dimmed and the band members resumed their places on stage. “Because a skirt wouldn’t sit here and argue a point. He’d nod and agree with everything you say, and you’d be bored to tears.”
She didn’t get a chance to reply, because the band kicked into a raucous rendition of an old Lynyrd Skynyrd song that had half the bar tapping along to it and the other half trying their damnedest to sing along.
Forty-five minutes later, when the band was finally stretching out that last note, it was near closing time.
Raine sat back, feeling a little lighter—happier than she’d been in a long time. As she gazed around the room, she realized a few things, troubling things that needed to be dealt with.
First off, she had become a bit of a shut-in, and that had to stop. She needed to get out and try to breathe some life into her soul, because if not—she swallowed and glanced at her hands—if not, she would wither and die. Oh, her shell of a body could go on for years, but living without a soul wasn’t a way to exist.
And Jesse would not have wanted her to waste away.
“Hey.”
Jake’s quiet voice grabbed her and she sat back.
“You all right?”
