The Summer of Jake (2 page)

“We’re back to ‘oh’, are we?”

I tried the remarkable willpower thing again on my brain, but ended up having to shake my head to get it to work. His plan sounded fabulous. Except for that
teensy
detail of helping him attract another woman while in the midst of my newly re-surfaced teenage crush.
That
part wasn’t quite so fabulous. “I’m not sure.”

“Say yes, Annalise. It’ll be fun.”

His gaze was so confident that I realized he was positive I’d agree. Of course. This was The World According To Jake, where everything always worked out just the way he wanted. “Why would I consider this, let alone agree to it?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that.” He lifted one eyebrow the way only movie stars were supposed to and grinned with cocky self-assurance. Damn, even his cockiness was sexy. “I’d owe
you
a favor.”

A favor? I considered asking if he had some grocery vouchers in his back pocket or maybe a spare room for a girl and her stripy cat. But then I realized something. This man was rich and needed something from me.
And
he owned shops.
I
designed things for shops. This could be the break to kick-start my career. My whole body snapped to attention.

“What sort of time frame do you have in mind?”

He leaned back in his chair in a lopsided slouch, one shoulder higher than the other. “I’ve got two weeks to get ready for a dinner Scarlett’s company is holding for ‘valued clients’. That’s where I’ll make my move.”

At the mention of Scarlett again, I wavered, weighing my options: starvation… Handing Jake to a blonde. Starvation…

“Okay, here are my terms. You pay me an hourly consultant’s fee. You also take on two of my casual wear designs in your retail outlets. If they don’t sell, you cut them. If they do, you increase the number of designs.”

He tapped an index finger on the table. “I have a buyer who chooses what goes in the shops, but I’ll pay you the consultant’s fee.” His smile crinkled the corners of his intense, dark eyes. He was laying on the full charm, and even the knowledge it was aimed at getting another woman didn’t give me immunity.

But, feeling the thrill of the negotiation, I decided to flex my business savvy. “Have you considered trying a charm school for this?” I bit down on a grin at the irony—like he
needed
more charm.

“Nope, I want you. Please?” His bottom lip nudged out almost imperceptibly.

He must have practiced that move a lot over the years, because he was exceptionally good at it. I didn’t have a choice. If he’d asked me to sing “I’m a Little Teapot” standing on my head, I probably would’ve done it. Especially after hearing those three little words on his lips:
I want you
.

I was about to settle for his compromise when our coffees arrived. I sighed in relief at the familiar aroma wafting toward me—since Jake had kissed my cheek, I’d only been able to smell his blend of surf spray and masculine skin.

Coffee was far safer.

I took a sip and, free from the snare of his persuasive gaze, I regrouped and plotted my next move. I needed more than Jake’s compromise—I wanted the whole shebang. Getting my designs in shops had to be my number one priority.

…

Jake

Under the guise of taking a sip of coffee, I took a good look at Annalise. I hadn’t spoken to her much when we were younger—she’d just been my kid sister’s friend. Sure, with that long hair and ocean-green eyes, she’d always been good looking, but I’d realized at Kelly’s wedding she’d become an absolute stunner. So good that thoughts about kissing her had crossed my mind when we’d done the best-man-maid-of-honor dance at the reception. Of course, we’d both had dates, and kissing my sister’s best friend would have been stupid. But still, if I had to have help now, it may as well come packaged in a body like hers.

Smiling, I sat back in my chair and waited.

“Even if I wanted to agree,” Annalise said, seeming to choose her words with care, “transforming you for this
Scarlett
will take time away from marketing my designs to other shops.”

I met her eyes squarely. “Kelly’s told me your designs are great, and she’s even shown me a couple of things you made for her, so I know they’re good, but it’s not my area. Tracey, my stock manager, would freak if I upset her plans.”

Tracey was pretty easygoing, but I’d never interfered in her area before.

“I guess that’s the advantage of being the boss,” she said, fluttering her lashes. “You get to make decisions.”

A grin threatened, but I wouldn’t let it out. Instead, I acknowledged the hit with a tilt of my head and brought my attention back to the negotiating table. Well, the speckled Formica table. “Okay, I’ll pay the hourly consultant’s fee and take one design.”

Annalise took a sip from her cup then set it down carefully on its saucer. “Jake, I’d love to help you, really I would, but I parted ways with my job yesterday, and I need to prioritize. I only have enough kitty litter to last until next week. I need to be 100 percent focused on kick-starting my design business.”

This time, I couldn’t help myself. I grinned. Annalise was adorable when she bargained. Spending time with her was going to be fun—I was glad I’d picked her. Not that there had been anything scientific in the choice. My female friends tended to dress as casually as I did, and I didn’t want to ask anyone who worked for me in case they felt uncomfortable telling the boss what to do. My mother and sister would take far too much pleasure in making changes, and it would probably have snowballed until they were offering opinions on everything.

I’d needed someone I knew well enough to trust they knew what they were doing, but was removed enough that they wouldn’t either be intimidated or get carried away. Annalise was perfect. When we’d danced at Kelly’s wedding, she’d outshone every other guest, but we’d never had anything more than a few basic conversations. Just the combination I was looking for.

And so, there was really no other decision to be made about her demands.

“Okay, two designs and the consultant’s fee. We can’t have you short on kitty litter on my account. But as to whether they sell well and JMS increases the lines, all future negotiations need to go through Tracey.”

“Okay, deal.” She looked all polite pleasure on the outside, but her eyes were shining with excitement. It was sweet.

“How about you come over to my place at ten o’clock tomorrow morning? We’ll work out our plan of attack then.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. I’d obviously caught her by surprise, but then she nodded. “Sure.”

“And to sweeten the deal,” I said, “you can still ask me a favor.”

She flicked her wrist. “No need. I already asked, and you gave.”

“That was a business negotiation. A fair trade. This is a personal favor. So…what do you want?”

Suddenly, there was something extra in her gaze, an awareness, and my blood began to hum in response. Maybe Scarlett wasn’t the one I should be focused on…

I drew in a sharp breath. Nope. Annalise was attractive, sure, but I couldn’t screw around with Kelly’s best friend. My sister—and mother—would kill me when any fling with Annalise ended. And it would end, because I didn’t do long-term. It was in my genes.

Everyone knew the apple never fell far from the tree, and every person in Australia knew what a rotten tree my father had been. Sleeping around on his wife, not bothering to hide it from the gossip magazines, not turning up for gigs because he’d found something—or someone—more interesting, disappearing for weeks at a time, leaving people worried and searching for him, only to reappear, wondering what all the fuss was about.

He usually realized his mistakes later, begged for forgiveness, and was forgiven all in time to make the next lapse in judgment. By the end, he’d been so drunk all the time, the band couldn’t tour. He’d managed to destroy his own career.

Sure, I’d never make those exact mistakes, but I had the same restless spirit, the same inability to make a relationship work. The principle was the same.

Luckily, Kelly hadn’t taken after our father at all—she was our mother all over, from her looks to her good heart—but I’d long ago accepted that my genes were stacked against me.

Annalise glanced down at her watch. “I need to get going,” she said, clearly avoiding the question about a favor.

The smart thing would be to let her, and, for one of the rare times in my life, I did the smart thing. After scribbling down my address on a napkin, I pushed the chair back and stood. “See you tomorrow.”

She smiled and waved. As I strode out of the cafe, I had to wonder if I’d been wrong. This entire plan might not have been the smart thing.

Chapter Two

Annalise

The next morning, mug of coffee in one hand and dream collage in the other, I curled up on my couch. I’d made the first version of the collage as a kid with Kelly, but I’d made this one in the days leading up to my nineteenth birthday, full of hopes and dreams for my future, then promptly forgotten about it.

But two nights ago, after losing my job, I’d dug the collage out to review my life’s achievements so far.

It wasn’t good news.

Front and center on the collage was a photo of me, and pictures of everything I wanted surrounded that photo. To my right was a headless man cut from a magazine—not that I wanted a headless man, obviously, but I was leaving myself a little latitude in his precise identity. The concept of a relationship with someone I loved and who loved me was more the idea.

At the top right corner, Mindy Mini sat proudly—I’d fixed her a little, coloring her in as if she’d had a fresh coat of paint and new black tires. A cosmetically enhanced Mindy.

A photo of my parents holding me at my Christening was pasted in the top left corner. At least, I think the baby was me—their shining pride wasn’t something I’d noticed on their faces since. Which was the point. I wanted them to be proud of me. I wanted to see that expression in the photo on their real live faces for something I’d done.

I’d made teeny tiny mock-up dresses and skirts from fabric scraps and glued them over a magazine photo of an exclusive dress shop in the bottom right corner. And a photo of a famous runway model with a teeny tiny mock-up of an aubergine cocktail gown pasted over her. They weren’t replicas of my designs, exactly, more representations of where my designs would end up.

I sighed and sipped my coffee.

Looking over my collage two nights ago, I’d realized there wasn’t a single thing I’d achieved—but there were things that needed adding. I’d glued on a photo of Rover at my left. And found a picture of a house with a green grassy yard for Rover to play fetch with her tinkly ball and pasted that over the top of the beachside penthouse shot that I’d added as a nineteen year old.

I uncurled from my spot on the couch and wandered into my bedroom. After I hung the collage on my closet door, I laid down on my stomach across the bed’s amber and cobalt satin comforter, chin resting on laced fingers. Rover woke languidly, stretched, then moved to lie beside me.

Taking a deep breath, I surveyed the collage again, lightly stroking Rover’s silky fur.

So, I hadn’t achieved any dreams yet. That was okay. It meant the future was more exciting, because these things were still there to be achieved. And Rover was on the collage, and I had her, so that kind of counted.

And now I had a big step toward my designs hanging in the high fashion shops thanks to Jake.

So I was fine. Fabulous, in fact.

This deal with Jake would be a good move—no, a
great
move for both my career and my bank balance. It’d get me exposure and a foot in the door, while keeping me afloat.

So why did the thought of it still make me feel like someone had disturbed a wasp’s nest behind my ribs?

…

Two hours later, I pulled up outside Jake’s house in Mindy Mini. As soon as I stepped out of the car, my attention was drawn to the ocean. I’d have guessed Jake would want to live where he could see the water, but business must be going really well for this view. His house was built on top of a rocky point with 180-degree views of glassy blue water. The rhythmic crashing of the waves lulled me into a calmness that had evaded me since the day before in the café. I could almost feel the surf spray if I closed my eyes.

Which was what I was doing when I heard a familiar voice greet me, adding, “Nice, isn’t it?”

My eyes flew open to find one dream view had been replaced with another. Less than an arm’s length away stood Jake, wearing old blue jeans that fit him perfectly, bare feet showing out the bottom, and a sky-blue T-shirt that emphasized his tan. He’d pushed one of the T-shirt’s short sleeves up, making him look a bit rumpled and untidy, but plainly displaying what surfing could do for a man’s biceps.

“Yes, very nice.” I looked back out at the ocean so he’d think I was talking about the water.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him jerk a hand toward the house. “Come on in, the view’s good from inside, too.”

I watched him walk away and noticed the way his jeans hugged his thighs and backside. “I bet it is,” I muttered.

By the time we were sitting on his deck drinking coffee, I’d regained some of my composure. “How long have you lived here?”

“Almost two years. I found the land first and wanted to be able to sit right here and look out over the water, so I bought it and had the house built.”

I looked over my shoulder at the house, with its sleek white walls and abundance of glass—the views would be amazing from every room. “I love it.”

He grinned. “Me, too.”

“Though, it’s pretty big for one person. Doesn’t it feel lonely?”

He ran his gaze across the timber and glass walls. “No, I like room to move.”

“You might share it with Scarlett soon,” I said, mainly to remind myself.

“No.” Looking at the water, he gave one shake of his head.

That was pretty definite. Actually, definite and
strange
for someone going to all this effort. Maybe Scarlett preferred city living? Or didn’t like the beach? No, I couldn’t see Jake dating someone who didn’t love salty breezes and the lullaby of crashing waves at night. Still, he obviously didn’t want to expand. Time for a change of subject. “Kelly told me you’d built a new house, but I wasn’t expecting something so spectacular.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Kelly tells you things about me?”

My stomach did a little tumble-turn. Had I said too much? As a teenager, I’d always tried to hide my crush for self-protection. And since his call the day before, I was feeling like that teenager again—like I was in some sort of bizarre emotional time warp.

I tried to assess Jake’s expression for a clue. Had I given my crush away? “She’s proud of you. I expect she brags about you to all her friends.”

“Really? What else has she told you?”

If you only knew.
There were things Kelly had told me when we were teenagers that I was sure Jake wouldn’t appreciate. Like the day she found a box of condoms in his bedside drawer while borrowing a pair of socks. Or the time a mix-up in laundry piles had led Kelly to be in possession of a pair of Jake’s red boxer shorts. Kelly had held them up, and we’d giggled ourselves silly. It didn’t seem all that funny now, but to a teenager, especially one without a brother, it’d been side-splitting.

So what could I safely say?

“She just mentions things worth bragging about, like your business, or the big surf competitions, or your boat. But I haven’t seen her for a while, so I don’t have any recent news.” I shifted in my seat and looked out over the ocean.

“Hmm.” His voice had become smoother, if that were possible. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this than you’re telling me?”

I stared intently at my coffee and chewed on my bottom lip. “I think we should focus on the purpose for me being here.”

“Before you say something
I’ll
regret?”

I glanced up. He was suppressing a grin. The fiend, he was laughing at me. I made myself smile, hoping it didn’t come across as a grimace. “Something like that. So how do you want to go about this?”

“It’s up to you. You’re in charge.” He sat back in his chair, stretched his legs out in front of him, and linked his fingers behind his head. The movement lifted the hem of his T-shirt to expose a strip of tanned, taut belly, and the line of hair leading down into his jeans.

I
so
wished I hadn’t seen that. It made concentrating on anything else so much harder. I wanted to trace that line with a fingertip, taking my time to explore along the way.

Determinedly, I drew my eyes back up to his face. “Maybe we could just go over some basics so I can get an idea of what needs work.”

He sat up, leaning his forearms on his knees, drawing my attention away from his words
again
. “What do you want to know?”

“W-we…um…could start with your clothes.” Did he have to keep distracting me? The sun-bleached hair on his arms was scattered over wonderfully defined muscles, making it difficult to focus on anything he said. How would those arms feel around me? Holding me. Lifting me onto his bed…

In a smooth movement, he stood and indicated the door with one of those delicious forearms. “Do you want to look in my closet?”

Nodding, I mumbled, “Uh huh.”

Yep. I was definitely sixteen again.

I followed Jake and his backside to his bedroom, my eyes straying to the bed as we passed it. It was large and neatly made with a dark blue cover and matching pillowcases. The girl I’d once been had dreamed of being here with him, and the irony of the current situation wasn’t lost on me. I’d just bet those pillows had the scent of Jake on them.

Giving myself a mental shake, I let out a deep breath, followed him into the walk-in closet, then started looking through his clothes.

“Is this all of them?” I asked.

“Yep. Not good?”

“Not good.” I sifted through the assortment of board shorts, jeans, T-shirts, and casual shirts. “I can’t see your Scarlett being ecstatic at only going to places you can wear board shorts. What about dress clothes?”

“I’ve got a couple of jackets for winter in a bag up on the shelf, but that’s about it.”

“What do you wear for business meetings or when you go out to dinner?”

He reached above my head and pulled down a newish pair of dark blue denims. “My good jeans.”

“Nothing else?”

Slowly, he put them back, leaving his arm resting against the shelf. He was oh-so-close. My heart lurched and began banging against my ribcage.

One corner of his mouth twitched. “I usually wear a shirt.”

My skin broke out in goose bumps. With Jake making suggestive comments and leaning close enough to feel his body heat, I was relieved that was the only betrayal my body made. “No, I meant, no other options?”

“Nope. I like jeans. Don’t you like me in jeans?” He gave me a mischievous grin.

That simple stretching of his lips turned all my bones to chocolate custard. I gripped the shelf behind me for support and scowled. If I was going to last through the day, I needed to set some ground rules.

Also, one thing was now sure—comfort-eating times laid dead ahead.

…

Jake

Annalise shook her head, and her hair swung around her shoulders. Long hair had always been something that snagged my attention, and hers looked so silky. The type of hair that would feel great slipping through my fingers, or if I buried my hands in its length.

“Jake, this will be much harder if you’re doing that,” she said firmly.

“What?” I asked, my gaze flicking from her hair back to her face.

“Flirting.”

“You don’t like to flirt?” For me, a bit of harmless flirting was as natural as breathing, with the added bonus that it made the day more fun. More interesting.

Apparently, Annalise felt differently.

“Jake,” she said in a warning tone.

“All right. No flirting.” I put my hands up in mock surrender and straightened away from her.

As she turned away, I heard a small sigh escape her lips and wasn’t sure if it was from relief or something else. I waited as she continued rummaging through my stuff.

“You’re going to need some new clothes,” she finally said.

“Sure. How many outfits are we talking?”

She shot me a withering glance. “How many times do you want to go out with her?”

Logic. I liked it. “Okay, point taken.”

“What sort of budget have you allowed for this?”

Thanks to surfing and my company, money was rarely something that caused me problems these days, so I shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”

She fingered the fabric of a shirt. “What about time frame?”

“As soon as possible.” I conjured a picture of Scarlett in my mind. The challenge of getting her to go out with me was the only excitement in my life at the moment. “I want to be ready for the dinner in two weeks. Is that enough time?”

“Sure. But I was thinking more about how much free time you have between now and then. When can you go shopping?”

I did a quick mental run through of my schedule. “How about tomorrow?”

A tiny frown line appeared between her eyebrows. “Do you ever go in to your office?”

That hit a bit too close to home, so I smiled to cover. “They do pretty well without me as long as I show up to sign things every now and then.”

I had the strangest feeling she saw through me.

“Okay,” she said. “Tomorrow works. What time?”

“Give me time for a surf, a shower, and to drop in to the office to sign some papers. I’ll pick you up around eleven. In the meantime,” I said, digging my hands into my jeans pockets, “I’ve still got the rest of the day free. How about I come over to your place and look at your designs?”

Her teeth bit down on her lush bottom lip for a fraction of a second—the only sign that I’d surprised her—then she flashed me a smile that looked a bit too bright. “That’s fine. If you give me a half an hour head start, I’ll stop at the store and pick up some things for lunch. I’ll write down my address.”

She looked around, probably for paper and a pen, but I interrupted her. “Just tell me, and I’ll remember.”

Her eyes flicked back to mine. They were the color of the deep green ocean on a calm day. The kind of day that invited me to sit on my board, not bothering to catch a wave, just enjoying being out there. I wanted to stay looking into her eyes the same way. Wanted to touch a finger to her mouth, to feel the softness, and then touch her lips gently with mine. What sort of kisser would Annalise be? The air in the closet seemed to be getting warmer. Seemed it hadn’t been built for two.

“You have that good of a memory?” she asked slowly.

“When it’s important, I do.” Her lips looked soft and sensual, dusky pink and smooth. They were slightly open, and I could glimpse a hint of teeth. Teeth I could almost feel on my neck. And beyond those teeth would be her tongue. God, what I’d give to feel that tongue—on my lips, in my mouth…on my body. My pulse picked up speed.