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"What are you hungry for?" She tilted her head to the side and watched him with eyes that knew their effect on him.
"Do I really have to tell you?" he asked, coming around the side of the counter and closing the gap between them. He backed her up against the counter-top, not stopping until their bodies brushed against each other.
She tipped her head back, exposing her long elegant neck. He lifted one large blunt finger and stroked length of it. She trembled under his touch and her pulse started to beat more heavily. Her eyes narrowed to slits.
"The only thing on the menu is Greek salad, Jake."
She wasn't ready for anything other than teasing, he thought. Right now, maybe that's all he was ready for too. Marcus had made some interesting points on the phone. A paternity test was only one of the things he wanted from Larissa. He also needed to know why she'd kept her pregnancy a secret.
He stepped away and went back to chopping olives. "Too bad. I had my sights set on something mouth-watering."
She said nothing but assembled the salad and led the way out to the deck overlooking the Savannah River. She was still nervous around him, afraid to trust him, and she was right to be. He had his own plans and she was only a means to an end. As cruel as that sounded, he couldn't curb his gut instinct, which told him an eye for an eye.
"Thanks for lunch," he said while she cleared the plates.
"It was only a salad," she said.
"It was delicious."
"Thanks. I'm not really much of a cook."
"Me either. Luckily I know how to dial for takeout."
"I can't eat take-out every night. And it's really not good for Peter. Or you."
"I run five miles every morning and play soccer on Saturdays."
"I … I've seen you."
"When?"
"Last fall. Peter and I were having a picnic at the park. We were packing up to leave when you guys arrived for your game."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I was scared."
"Of what?"
"My reasons are personal, Jake."
"Honey, surely not too personal to share with the father of your child."
"Sarcasm doesn't become you."
"Neither do lies you."
"I'm not lying to you."
"Not today, right? It's funny how truth seems to be your ally when you need one."
"Ally? Are we enemies?"
"Only in your eyes."
"When did I make us enemies?"
"When you kept my son a secret," he said savagely.
"I can't believe we're going through this again."
"I'm waiting to hear these reasons of yours, Rissa. Because I have to tell you I can't believe the sweet girl I knew in college would keep this from me. What other secrets are you hiding?"
Five
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Larissa stood and walked into her house, unsure what to say but needing to escape. She paused inside the living room. Portraits of Peter lined the wall. She had spent a small fortune in film developing since he'd been born. She'd filled this empty old house with pictures of her son.
With pictures of the small family that she'd finally found. She scanned the pictures, stopping on one taken only two weeks ago, Peter on the dock with his fishing pole in hand. He'd been aggravated that he hadn't caught anything and he stared down into the water with the same determination she'd just seen in Jake's eyes.
She hurried past the photos and entered her kitchen, where she started cleaning. Cleaning had always been a chore that soothed her. It was simple and straightforward, and when she finished she could look back and see what she'd accomplished.
Unlike life, which seemed never to run smoothly. Every time she thought she and Jake had a chance at getting past her deception, his anger reared its ugly head. And she knew he deserved some answers, but the last thing she wanted to do was bare her soul to him.
Jake had always been the one guy she'd wanted. The one guy who'd made her feel like it was okay to be herself. The one guy who … she'd never been able to forget.
She sensed him behind her. She put the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher and turned to face him. He had that bulldog angry look on his face and his arms crossed over his massive chest that told her he wasn't budging until he got some answers.
She swallowed, twisting the dish towel with her hands. "You're right. I do have some secrets that I don't want to share with you."
"I'm trying to understand. But your lack of trust makes it damned hard."
"I know. Remember earlier when you asked me about my grandfather?" she asked, sorting through her past and finding one of the things that seemed safest to tell him. Jake came from a wealthy family with history and pride. And she'd never had a real family until Peter. She'd never felt she'd missed out until she'd had her son and realized what life could've been like.
