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Authors: Susan Andersen

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction

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BOOK: That Thing Called Love
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No,
Jenny thought. She wasn’t going to get stuck alone with Jake.

“Well, it would be,” Rebecca said, “except for the part where it’s a whole lot of unfair to Jenny and Jake. They were on an outing before we came tootling along to horn in on it.”

You tell him, sister,
she thought. “Not to mention it’s a school night,” she added with faux regret.

“No, it’s not.” Austin said. “Tomorrow’s teacher prep, remember?”

Crap.
She’d forgotten.

“Teacher prep?” Jake said.

“Or something.” The boy grinned. “Who cares what, exactly, as long as it means a day off for us?”

“Not me!” Nolan whooped.

“Not me,” Josh echoed, his eyes alight and a glaze of chocolate ice cream ringing his mouth.

“So how about it?” Austin asked Jenny.

“Don’t look at me. It’s up to your father.” Sitting back, she refrained from patting herself on the back for her slick passing of the buck. But, really. If Jake wanted to be a parent so bad, then let him drive the last nail in the coffin. She’d been the biggest disciplinarian in Austin’s life for quite some time now. It would be nice not to be the one saying no for a change.

“Okay,” Jake said.

She whipped around to stare at him. “
Excuse
me?”

“Just sticking to the spirit of hook, line and running with the bait,” he said with the facial equivalent of a shrug. Then he turned to Rebecca. “So it’s okay with me, but you’re the one who should have the final say. The boys worked the angles pretty hard to railroad you into doing what they wanted. If you’re not in the mood for another kid tonight, just say the word. We can always rent the video this weekend.”

“Dude!” Austin protested. “We don’t have a Blu-ray.”

“And yet I’m pretty sure we’d somehow muddle along.” The level gaze Jake used to pin his son in place stayed steady until Austin looked away.

“I guess,” he muttered to the floor.

“Austin’s welcome to join us,” Rebecca said. “We’re just going to set them up in the family room with the video and a bowl of popcorn—nothing fancy.”

The boys cheered, and Bailey, who had been fairly quiet—at least where the adults were concerned—smiled.

“Speaking of which, we should probably get going,” Mark said. “I’ll go settle the bill.”

Jake crooked a finger at his son and, when Austin cocked his head, he held out his hand. “I need the key to the boat.”

The teen dug it and its small rubbery key ring out of his pocket, but gave him a suspicious stare. “You ever even driven a boat?”

“Not often, but enough to know what I’m doing. If you’d rather come home with us, though—”

Austin handed the flotation key ring over.

Jake grabbed the plain package. “Here.” He held it out. “This is for you.” Turning to Rebecca he said, “Let me give you my card. My cell number is on it. Have Austin call after the show and I’ll come pick him up.”

“He can stay overnight,” Nolan said, but zipped his lips when Jake turned his gaze on him. “Uh, that is...we’ll do that, okay?”

Rebecca watched her flustered son turn away, and her lips curled up at the corners. “I need to get me that look,” she said under her breath as she accepted the card Jake fished out of his wallet. “Because that was
very
nicely played.”

Jenny had to admit it was. He’d acted like a real father for perhaps the first time since coming back into Austin’s life. He hadn’t tried to be the boy’s friend. He had let it be known, not only that he understood they were being played, but that going with the Damoths tonight was a privilege—not a right—and had laid down the conditions under which his son could reap the benefit.

“Oh. Man.”

The awe in Austin’s voice had her turning in his direction. He held a framed photograph in his hands, its brown paper discarded on the table, and he was staring at it with dazzled eyes.

Even as she watched, however, he marshaled an expression of boredom.

The other kids didn’t share his reserve. “Dude!” Nolan exclaimed, while Bailey said with breathless appreciation, “That. Is. So.
Cool!

Truly curious now, she joined them. “May I see?”

Wordlessly, Austin held out the frame. Taking it from his hands, she looked down.

And blurted, “Oh! My.” Glancing over at Jake, she noted a hint of color on his cheekbones, but the black-and-white photograph he’d taken tugged at her like a toddler for her mother’s attention, and Jenny turned back to study it.

It was an action shot of Austin just after he’d hurled the ball toward first base. It showed his body English and the blur of the baseball in midair not far from his fingers, showed, too, the determination and concentration on his face.

“That’s incredible,” Mark said from over her shoulder.

Rebecca wriggled her way between them. “Don’t leave me in suspense—let me see!” The same look that appeared on everyone else’s face suffused her expression when Jenny handed it over. “Wow.” She looked up at Jake. “
Wow.
This is amazing.”

“It turned out pretty good,” he said in a low-key way. “That’s always a good feeling.” His shoulders gave a subtle hitch. “I thought Austin might get a kick out of it.”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” The teen was clearly trying to adopt his father’s casual cool. “Uh...thanks.”

“No problem. You want me to take it back to Jenny’s for you?”

“No, that’s all right,” Austin said a hair too quickly.

Jake, however, didn’t indicate by so much as a muscle twitch that he’d caught on to the fact that Austin wasn’t ready to let it out of his sight. “Well, I guess Jenny and I should take off. I want to check over the boat before I drive it. Give me a call when you’re ready to come home.”

“’Kay.”

They thanked Mark for the ice cream and said their goodbyes, then left the clearing and walked single file down the switchbacks to the docks. Jake didn’t talk and, once on the boat, sat in the driver’s seat to study the boat’s instruments.

Jenny got out their life vests and began to relax. Heck, it didn’t matter that it was just the two of them. It was a short ride to The Brothers’ dock on the other side of the canal, Jake was clearly preoccupied, and all she had to do was sit tight for fifteen minutes max, and she’d be snug as a bug in a rug back in her own space. She passed Jake his safety vest, untied the back of the boat and stood prepared in the bow to unloop the front line as well when he was ready to go.

With an economy of motion, he donned the flotation device and started the boat’s engine. As soon as she freed the boat from the last cleat, he put the craft in gear and slowly pulled away from the dock, then headed for the mouth of the harbor.

Jenny returned to her seat, expecting him to give the boat a burst of speed as soon as they hit open water.

Instead he looked at her across the short space separating the two seats and continued putting along at a snail’s pace. “So this is your favorite place, huh?”

She made a face. “Actually, it’s Austin’s favorite place, but he likes to attribute it to me.”

“You got any hot plans for the night?”

“What? No.”
Dammit!
Wrong answer. But caught flat-footed by the change of subject, she could only stare at him, too slow to lie through her teeth and say, “Yes, indeed. Big plans.
Biiig
plans. Gotta hurry.”

She’d always stunk at on-the-fly lying.

“Excellent,” he said easily. “I’m too wired and it’s too nice a night to head straight home. Let’s go explore a little bit.”

Oh, let’s not.
But she didn’t want to make a bigger deal of this than it warranted. She’d give him ten minutes or so, then plead a long day today and a bigger day at work tomorrow.

She tried to ignore the kick in her stomach as their eyes met. “Ducky.”

CHAPTER NINE

O
KAY
,
SO
J
ENNY
WASN

T
THRILLED
. Jake’s initial inclination was to ignore the fact and just enjoy a little freedom on the water. Hell, his hand was on the throttle and he was ready to give it the forward momentum that would send them blasting down the canal.

But he couldn’t in all good conscience do it. Pulling the throttle into neutral, he turned to look at her. “You’re pissed at me.” Although she’d been nothing but outwardly polite this evening, he’d felt her underlying reserve.

She raised her brows. “Am I?” The shiny dark hair he’d watched her tie in an honest-to-God knot earlier had listed to the left until it now nestled just behind her ear. Silky pieces had escaped the knot to float about her face or slither down her nape.

He ignored the sudden itch in his fingers. “I know I said I’d quit depending on you to smooth my way with Austin—and, swear to God, I intended to. But my timing’s been off all over the place, because—damn, Jenny—I also knew better than to bring up the boat business in front of his friends, where it had a high potential to embarrass him or put him on the defensive right from the get. But I’d been worrying about the idea of him being out in a powerful boat without supervision, and the words just slipped right out of my mouth.” He gave her a stern look. “Trust me, blurting things out that way? That’s not me.”

“Is that a fact?” she said in a tone dry as dust. “How fortunate for you.”

He thrust a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not bragging. I’m just usually very careful about that sort of thing. So the fact that I didn’t even come close to thinking before I opened my mouth threw me in a panic, and I fell back on what I knew would work. Because where I can’t seem to do a damn thing right with Austin,
you
never make a misstep.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do.” But the corners of her lips crooked up. “Still—flattery works.”

For a moment they simply looked at each other in silence. Then Jenny said, “You wanna see my real favorite place?”

He had no particular reason to feel so pleased, but he did all the same. “Sure.”

“Do you know where Oak Head is?”

“Isn’t that the beach over by Dabob Bay?”

“Yes. Take us there and I’ll tell you something flattering about your parenting skills in return.”

“Deal.” He hit the throttle, sending the boat jetting across the water, and grinned when he heard her laugh. He’d always liked boating, although he hadn’t actually done any since he’d left Razor Bay. Up until then, however, his summers had been filled with taking turns driving when water-skiing and bellyboarding with his crowd. With exploring every inlet and shoreline along their part of the canal.

They approached Oak Head a short while later. A few feet from the shore Jake cut the engine and raised the propellers. The Bayliner’s bow scraped against the pebbly shore as it drifted up to the beach.

Jenny had climbed to straddle the point of the bow, the rope and anchor in hand, and he watched the knot in her hair slide another half inch down her neck. Then she jumped onto the beach and held the rope taut to keep the boat in place and, hauling his mind back to the business at hand, he climbed out.

He relieved her of the line and dragged the boat up until half the bow rested on dry land. Stretching the anchor line tight, he dug the points of the anchor into the sand and shale to prevent the craft from floating away on the still-rising tide. Once the chore was complete, he trailed her up the beach, glancing away when his gaze threatened to linger longer than it should on the hypnotic twitch of her hips.

Stopping at a stand of driftwood separating the beach from the cliffs, they settled on one weather-bleached, silvery log. Twilight was coming on fast, the sun hovering on the mountaintops. Feet planted in the finer sand fronting the log, they sat in silence for a moment, simply admiring the golden light and high clouds that were uplit like a Maxfield Parrish painting.

Then he turned to her. For a few additional seconds he studied her profile, admiring the flush that boating had raised in her smooth olive-skinned cheeks.

He drew a quiet breath and slowly exhaled. “Okay, lay it on me. I could use a compliment on my parenting skills right about now. Because from where I’m sitting, I really suck at it.”

“I doubt you appreciate how much I’d love to agree,” she said in a low voice, scooping up a handful of sand and staring straight ahead while the grains drifted through her fingers, until she was left with a couple pebbles that she flicked toward the waterline. “Maybe then I could talk you into leaving Austin here when you go back to your life in Manhattan. God knows I wouldn’t feel nearly as crappy as I do at the prospect of you taking him away,” she said to the sand between her feet. She turned her head to look at him. “But you know what, Bradshaw? You really don’t.”

“No?” It was pathetic how hopeful her words made him.

“No. You did the right thing making Austin demonstrate his ability to safely pilot a boat.”

“It turns out he’s a responsible driver.”

“He truly is—and I credit Emmett for that. He was an ardent promoter of boating safety.” She made a shooing gesture. “But that aside, you also handled Austin and Nolan’s manipulation of the whole Transformer video thing the way a real dad would do.”

He snorted. “I let them get their way.”

She grinned at him. “Yes, you did. But you didn’t let them have it all their way, and sometimes that’s all parenting is—picking your battles. Watching a video on a non-school night when the other kids’ parents have told you to your face they don’t mind having an extra kid isn’t worth fighting over.”

“Thanks.” He swayed in her direction to bump shoulders, then wished he hadn’t. There was just something about
touching
this woman—something he’d be smart to avoid. He moved away, inching down the log.

And felt her eyes on him.

Then the weight of her gaze was gone and she sat quietly for a moment before she said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”
Anything to take my mind off...what I don’t want it on.

“What are your plans for The Brothers?”

“Huh?” Swinging a leg over the log, he straddled it to face her. “What do you mean, what are my plans?”

“For when you go back to New York. Did you plan to sell it?” She was clearly trying not to show her tension, but her shoulders looked stiffer than a preacher’s neck at a hooker convention.

“No! Jesus. Why would you think so?”

“You’ll be living on one side of the country while the resort is on the other.”

He hitched a shoulder. “Maybe so, but it’s clear you’ve been running it just fine without any input from me. And it’s Austin’s legacy.” He gave her a level look. “Right?”

“Yes. Emmett left me a quarter share in it, but the rest is in trust to Austin.”

“And you’re the trustee.”

Her chin went up. “Yes.”

Her bristling tugged a smile from the corners of his lips. “Believe me, I have no problem with that. Better you than me.”

Her eyebrows rose. “That’s an...interesting comment. Coming from someone with a business degree.”

“Like I already told Max, I never actually got my degree.” His own brows drew together. “And how the hell does everybody know what my major was, anyway?”

“Please.” Elbows tucked in, arms angled out and hands held palms up, she turned from side to side indicating their surroundings like a game show hostess exhibiting the grand prize. “Small pond,” she said, then swung back to flourish those same hands at him. “Big fish.”

“You know, that everybody-knowing-everyone-else’s-business shit was right up there on the list of things that bugged me most about Razor Bay when I was a kid.” He shook his head. “Still, as Austin’s trustee, you must already know that you have nothing to worry about as far as the resort goes. Emmett put you in charge of Austin’s finances—that means you can legally do whatever the hell you want.”

She jackknifed upright. “I would
never
—!”

“You think I don’t realize that? My point is, you don’t need my permission to do the job you’ve been doing. But if you want it, you’ve got it. Take care of Austin’s investment, that works for me. Anyone with eyes in their head can see you’re crazy about him, and I do know you’d never do anything that wasn’t in his best interests. Hell, I didn’t come here to mess with whatever arrangements you’ve got going. I just want to get to know my kid.”

“Okay.” Evidently mollified, she faced front again, staring at the show playing above the mountaintops as the sun sank behind them, turning the thin clouds above them a deeper, richer gold. “Thanks.”

He’d seen the view a thousand times and opted to watch her instead. She steadfastly ignored him—if she was even aware that he was staring—and, drawing a deep breath of the salt-tinged air, he looked around the deserted beach.

And admitted slowly, “For all my problems with Razor Bay—and I own up to more than a few—this is really nice.”

“I know.” Her own issues with him apparently forgotten, she turned to face him, swinging her leg over the log to mimic his pose. Hands braced against the sand-and-wind-weathered wood between them, she leaned in, her dark eyes shining with enthusiasm. “I love this spot. I love that you can see civilization just across the canal, yet this end of the peninsula is still largely undeveloped. I hear there are a few places up on the bluff, but down here it’s just pretty and quiet and...nice.”

He found himself edging forward. Despite the ingrained survival instincts he’d developed as a teen, which were semaphoring frantic
don’t-go-there
flags in his mind, he couldn’t come up with a reason compelling enough to back off.

Planting his own hands until his fingertips were half an inch from touching her pink-tipped nails, he picked up his feet and raised his butt off the log, balancing his entire body weight on his palms. When he lowered his torso again, his knees brushed hers. “Pretty, quiet and nice,” he said softly. “Kind of like you.”

“Yeah, right.” She made a rude noise. “You’ve clearly never heard me when I get away from the resort. I’m not particularly quiet on my own time.”

“But you cop to the pretty and nice?”

“Hell, yeah.” She gave him a cocky smile. “Surely you’ve heard I’m Razor Bay’s reigning beauty? It’s common knowledge. And I’m so nice, goodness sheds from me like stardust. There’s often a stampede to collect the glittery wake I leave everywhere I go.”

He nodded solemnly. “I have heard you’re quite the paragon.”

“Oh, yes.” Then she threw back her head and let loose a deep belly laugh like the one he’d heard that night in the Anchor, her white teeth flashing while peals of contagious laughter poured from her throat.

Little by little she subsided, until she finally pressed a fist between her breasts and inhaled a deep breath. She gave him a little one-sided, close-lipped smile that was sexy beyond belief. And sighed contentedly. “Aw, man, I needed that. Is there
anything
that feels better than a good laugh?”

“Yes,” he said, his heart beginning to thump, thump, thump against the wall of his chest. “This.” And closing the distance separating them, he lowered his head and kissed her.

He wasn’t prepared for the jolt that a mere touch of the lips gave him and didn’t know whether pressing his to hers was the smartest thing he’d ever done—or a big mistake. It felt contrarily like both.

What he did know was that he’d meant to keep it brief. Well, probably, anyhow.

No. He likely had.

Okay, the truth was, he didn’t know what the hell he’d intended—actual thought didn’t seem to be playing a major part in his actions. Anything even resembling cognition had apparently drained from his generally facile brain and disappeared like water poured into the sand. So although he felt Jenny’s start of surprise, the lion’s share of his attention was focused firmly on her lips.

God. Such soft, soft lips.

They were smooth and so incredibly
supple
as they cushioned his own. And Christ on a crutch, they were sweet. As if she’d just bitten into a Rainier cherry and a hint of its juice lingered still.

It made him greedy for more and, lifting his head, he came at her from another angle. He opened his mouth over hers, then dragged it closed again to apply persuasive suction against the pliable fullness of hers. He tickled the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue, wordlessly encouraging her to open to him.

She made a soft sound deep in her throat. Slipped her hands between the open lapels of his jacket to press against his chest beneath his worn, soft Columbia U. hooded sweatshirt.

And shoved him back, ripping their mouths apart.

Fuck.
Fuck!

They stared at each other, only the lap of the tide against the shore and their ragged breaths sawing in and out of their lungs breaking the quiet of the evening.

“What the... You can’t just—” She snapped her lips shut against the fragmented sentences issuing from them. Shot him some
you’ve-got-some-’splainin’-to-do
eye contact. Cleared her throat. “What was
that
all about?” Her eyes a little wild, she licked those soft, soft lips.

Which, Jake noticed, slicking his tongue over his own, were reddened from his kiss. “It was—”
What, genius?
He scratched the back of his head. “Hell if I know. I wanted to kiss you and couldn’t talk myself out of it.” His shoulder hitched. “Trust me, I gave it the old college try, but there’s just something about you. It makes me crazy.”

“Oh. Good. The diminished capacity defense.” Then, deepening her voice, she said in a truly bad imitation of guy-speak, “‘It’s not my fault, judge. She made me do it.’”

Jake couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Yeah. Something like that.” Her way of refusing to take crap from anyone—or maybe it was only him?—shouldn’t give him such perverse pleasure. Yet for some reason it did just that. To avoid examining
that
too closely, he changed the subject. “I bet you’ve heard a hundred times you taste like cherries.”

BOOK: That Thing Called Love
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