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“Maybe yes, we kiss, get all this awkward tension out of the way,” she said, “and we can work together without all the sniping.”
That was a terrible idea. No way he could forget another kiss. He hadn't even managed to move past the first. Her tone was pragmatic, but the way she was staring at his lips was far from it. When she pulled her own lip between her teeth, it was all he could do not to groan. “That’s maybe yes. Why maybe no?”
Pulling her eyes up to meet his, she smirked again. “Maybe you might waste my time.”
She might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull. His male pride rose in his defense. The smug smile on her face said she thought she’d won, right before he covered those lips with his own. Little did she know they were both lost now.
Jake poured months of pent-up longing into that kiss, savoring every familiar taste and sound. When she sighed against his lips, he pressed his advantage and angled for more.
Frankie met him with equal enthusiasm, all of the energy between them crackling as they shifted from a negative to a positive charge. She slid her hands up into his hair and pulled his head down to better match hers. God, he loved a woman who could hold her own. She met him challenge for challenge, giving as good as she got. How could he not want more?
He held her face in his hands, steadying her as he bent to meet her mouth. Sliding one hand back, he wove his fingers through the ponytail that tempted him daily and tugged, just enough to tip her head back and expose her neck for his exploration.
He flashed back to Christmas Eve. This was quite a different kiss from the sleepy, tipsy lip smash they’d shared at the door to her apartment. Hotter, more explosive, infinitely more satisfying. Their first kiss had lingered in his mind. This one threatened to blow his head right off his shoulders.
As much as he wanted this kiss to continue, the hairs on the back of his neck rose and he tried to ease back. They were at work. Work they both needed to be doing. And this trailer wouldn’t stay private for long once people knew he was back on set. Sooner or later someone would come for approvals or solutions. And though he wouldn’t want it any other way, he also didn’t want to expose her to gossip around the set. Getting caught kissing the talent wouldn’t be a good look for him either.
But he couldn’t make his hands release her head or his tongue stop tangling with hers. He wanted this kiss to go on and on, and preferably much further. He slid a hand down her back to the exposed stretch of skin between her T-shirt and her battered jeans.
She jolted in his arms and pulled back as though he’d shocked her. It was lowering to admit that she’d been able to step back and he hadn’t. Her bemused and glassy-eyed expression made it a little easier to swallow. She wouldn’t forget this kiss so easily.
“Hmmm, well, yeah. Now that we’ve gotten that out of our system, we should be able to work together just fine. No more tension. Okay, good. Right…” She rambled and retreated, bumping into the doorframe again, before she fumbled with the handle.
He let her retreat. This was far from over, even though it should be. A fling with Frankie would be his best worst mistake. “Yep, all good. No more tension,” he parroted, willing to give her the space to walk away now. He definitely wanted more, but he could wait for her to be ready. They needed to figure out how they would keep this quiet. Better to have that conversation when they weren't so…heated.
“I’ll just go work on the barn until the concrete truck shows up.”
“I’ll let the crew know. See? Icanbe flexible.”
“Ha. Right. Good one.” She shut the door behind her with an audible click.
Jake reached for his coffee cup and his equilibrium, and came up empty for both.
Damn it.
He let out a deep sigh and pinched the back of his neck. Nothing was going to plan today.
Mug in hand, he waited a beat to make sure Frankie had walked away. He didn’t want his need for caffeine to be interpreted as giving chase. If he was lucky, he could get his fix at craft services and get back to his trailer without running into anyone.
He really needed to get caught up on the daily notes Trina and Lorena had left him while he was away. He had to get his head back in the game. Caffeine and distance from Frankie would help.
Jake snuck out of the trailer and headed to craft services, his source of that blessed nectar of the gods. As he turned the corner, his mind already ten steps ahead, he stumbled to a halt. Between him and his salvation stood Domenico Valenti, arms crossed, face carved in granite.
No way around him. Jake would have to bluff his way through whatever hiccup had pissed Dom off without his liquid crutch.
“This is not what I would have chosen.” Dom spoke first, his voice full of gravel.
“I know the wine cellar looks like a big expense, but Sofia seems to think Jo needs it. Frankie and I just had a misunderstanding since the change hadn’t made it to my desk yet.”
“Screw the wine cellar. Fi can have whatever she wants. And I know Frankie is handling the job just fine. I’m not blind.”
Shit, he'd guessed wrong. Before he put his foot in it again, he decided to let Dom lead. “No sir, you’re not. What do you see that I don’t?”
“Francesca. I wouldn’t have chosen you for her.”
That was not what he had expected. Dom kept his gaze steady and level, and Jake had to fight the urge to avert his eyes. Unsure what emotion would win the battle for expression, surprise or offense, Jake kept his face deliberately blank. Dom saved him from having to decide.
“Don’t get me wrong. I like you, Jake. You’ve got a solid head on your shoulders, and you’ve delivered on your promises.”
