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Blowing her hair out of her face, Jane turned to Rafe and said, “What thing?”
“You, breaking and entering into my room in the middle of the night.”
Ignoring his bemused expression, she began explaining why she’d come, and it didn’t appear to be for the same reason as the previous night.
“I have a problem,” she said, her tone almost businesslike.
A hole opened up inside Rafe and his stomach fell in. Was Ollie right? Had Jane found someone else to satisfy her needs?
His gut tightened with self-reproach, with anger and jealousy.
She’s mine.
Shoving his emotions down, Rafe snorted. “That’s one word for it,” he said, moving off the bed and holding her steady while helping her unhook her shoelace from the window latch. “You do know no one will think less of you for using the front door, right? Has to be easier than trying to cram your pregnant arse through my window every night.”
Her hand dropped to her belly and she scowled at him. “Door-schmoor. I’m perfectly capable of breaking and entering well into my second trimester, thank you very much.” She shrugged out of her coat and removed her shoes. “Now, do you want to hear about my problem… or not?” she said.
Her speech staggered and Rafe’s tension eased somewhat when he noticed Jane’s gaze had snagged on his naked chest. She licked her lips, rubbed her hand across the base of her throat and swallowed hard.
Not the actions of a sexually satisfied woman.
He bit back a grin and hid his relief.Fucking Ollie messing with my head.“Hit me with it. What’s happened between when I left you to have your nap and now?”
Dragging her gaze up to meet his, she planted one hand on her hip and said, “Do you mean when you promised me sexual satisfaction then chickened out and left me hanging?”
Rafe scowled. “I didn’t chicken out. Alec came home. And I was not going to fool around with you within ear shot of your father.” He shifted uncomfortably. “He hates me enough as it is.”
Shaking her head, Jane said, “What is it with you two? Honestly, I don’t—”
“You said you had a problem?” Rafe cut her off, reminded her why she’d come. The last thing he wanted to discuss with her was the reason behind his complicated relationship with her father. He’d made a promise. He intended to keep it.
No matter how much he hated doing so.
Now it was Jane’s turn to scowl, unimpressed by Rafe’s sudden change in subject. “Yes,” she said. “I got an email from the man who outfitted my food truck saying it’s ready to be picked up and requesting the next payment.” Pulling her phone from her pocket, she opened the message. “Can you take a look? Tell me if it’s real or not?”
Taking the phone from her outstretched hand, Rafe switched into work mode and all emotion deserted him as he read through the email. Jane paced across the room, wringing her hands and throwing anxious looks his way every few seconds.
It was very distracting.
“Sit down, Jane,” he said, pointing at the bed.
She sat immediately, but as soon as she did, her leg started bouncing uncontrollably, which was even more distracting than watching her pace back and forth.
Rafe sat beside her on the bed and indicated for her to swing her legs over his lap, then rubbed them with one hand while scrolling through the message with the other.
Eventually he looked at her. “The email looks legitimate,” he said, then frowned. “You’ve actually seen this truck with your own eyes, yes?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“In person, not just in photographs or online?”
“Yes, I’ve seen it in person. Geez, Rafe, I’m not a total moron. I went to Melbourne with Sam to meet the outfitter, Mr Bridges. He liked my pecan pie. We had a meeting about my business and how I wanted the van painted, what equipment I wanted installed. We even discussed the permits I needed.”
“Okay. Good.”
“No, Rafe, not good. After everything else that’s happened, I’d assumed the truck was a scam too, just another elaborate prop to sell Sam’s lies. And I figured the outfitter was probably one of his arsehole mates or an actor or something, but if it’s real, I’m screwed.”
“How so?”
