“SCREW HER.” Jake slammed his desk drawer. He still couldn’t get over Victoria coming out and telling him she had a date, as if Jake were that inconsequential. “I don’t need that shit.”
“What shit?”
He looked up to find Hector standing at his office door. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to get my check, amigo. Where’s Selma?”
“At lunch.”
“The rest of the boys are in the truck. They want to get to the bank before the crowd. She always has them ready by now.”
Jake muttered a curse as his gaze drew to the stack of checks Selma had left for him to sign. He’d totally forgotten about them. “I’ve got them over here. Give me a couple of minutes to sign them.”
“Okay.” Hector walked in and made himself comfortable on one of the chairs opposite Jake. “Who were you talking to when I came in?”
“Myself.” Jake got out his pen and started signing each check while ignoring Hector.
“Did you answer?”
“Shut up.”
The other man laughed. “Must be a woman.”
Jake frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You going loco again, amigo. Talking to yourself. No sense of humor. Your chin touching your chest.”
He went back to signing checks, each signature an angry scrawl. “It has nothing to do with a woman, okay?”
“Okay,” Hector said, sounding unconvinced. “If you say so.”
“Here.” He handed him the checks. “What about the Whitford place? Anything I should know about?”
“Nah, the old lady was inspecting the yellow roses by the pond when I got there this morning, but she didn’t say nothing. She disappeared as soon as I parked the truck.” He got to his feet. “Man, that woman needs to get laid. She always looks like she’s sucking a lemon.”
Jake sighed. His father would have a stroke if he heard Hector talking like that about Mrs. Whitford. “All right, get out of here.”
“Yes, sir, boss.” Hector stopped at the door and grinned. “Hope your woman troubles turn out okay.”
Jake had the juvenile urge to flip him off. Instead he buried his face in the quarterly statement he needed Selma to send to the accountant by the end of next week. None of the figures made sense. He was still too busy steaming over Victoria.
As soon as he heard the front door close, he brought his head up and threw down the pen. He should have asked Hector about the Warren job. Contractually they were bound to finish the landscaping by mid-October. It was a huge project that, if completed satisfactorily, promised many more lucrative contracts with other malls.
Jake wasn’t as interested in expanding the business as he probably should be. But the four-man crew who worked under Hector consisted of his brother, two cousins and a friend, and they all needed the work.
Damn that Victoria.
He couldn’t get her out of his head. Even in the middle of something—a phone conversation, or reconciling an invoice, she’d just pop up. What made him really angry was that he couldn’t remember letting anyone get to him this way.
So why her? Yeah, the sex was phenomenal. But the aggravation wasn’t worth it. That’s what bothered him the most. His own stupidity. He knew he wasn’t in her league, and she’d made no effort to sugarcoat what she wanted from him. Maybe it was that whole thing about her being a Whitford, someone unattainable, that had him continuing to sniff around.
His gaze went to the phone. A week of great sex was nothing to turn your nose up at. It had nothing to do with pride. They were using each other for the sex.
Shit!
Screw her. No way would he call.
To: The Gang at Eve’s Apple
From: Angel@EvesApple.com
Subject: SOS
I think I’m in trouble, guys. He wants me to spend a week with him at a beach house. So far, we haven’t spent more than three hours with each other. And that was only once. A week of great sex wouldn’t be a problem. Except that he’s really nice. No, skip nice. Exciting, funny, the best lover in the world, and he seems to genuinely want to know about me, even like how my day was.
Last night I almost told him about a problem I was having at this place where I volunteer. He doesn’t even know I go there after work. Doesn’t need to know. Too much information. Right? It’s not as if we have a relationship. We have sex and then get up and get dressed and go. Sort of.
Damn, I think I’m in over my head. I might like him too much. I don’t think I should go to the beach house. Too personal. Of course I don’t think it’s HIS beach house, but a whole week? I dunno…
Help!
Angel
To: Angel at Eve’s Apple
From: Kelly@EvesApple.com
Subject: SOS
Relax, kiddo. I think you’re getting too hyper for nothing. Sorry I haven’t written for a week but I’ve been out of town, but I caught up on all your e-mails last night. What’s one lousy week? You said the sex was great. Go for it. If you think things will get too complicated, maybe you could suggest going for only three days.
Love,
Kelly
p.s. What’s up with going to a hotel? I didn’t catch your answer.
Why was everyone so damn concerned about them meeting at a hotel? Sheesh. She reread the e-mail and then stared blankly at it, thinking about what Kelly had said. She had a point. Maybe three days was doable. Tori could take paperwork with her. Get the reports read during the day. They didn’t have to spend twenty-fours a day in each other’s faces.
She sighed. But he had such a nice face. Enigmatic dark eyes, full sensual lower lip, a strong jaw. Great smile.
Oh, God, this was not a good idea. Three hours had been enough to distract her. Three days spelled addiction.
She scrolled down, desperate for more advice, and hoping one of the others had written, as well. Tori smiled. Good old Taylor had come through.
To: Angel at Eve’s Apple
From: Taylor@EvesApple.com
Subject: Stop and smell the roses
Okay, I don’t get it. If you like this guy, what’s the problem? Why not take a week to see what happens? Who knows? Maybe you’ll find you have a lot in common. Maybe you’ll end up like Ben and me.:)
Go, Angel, or you’ll always wonder. Always. You know I’m right. Besides, how much work do you think you’ll get done knowing you could have been lounging on some beach, having the best sex of your life?
Good luck, kid.
Love,
Taylor
Sighing, Tori checked to see if either of the Barbaras had written. Neither one had, so she decided to send another message. How much to say was the tricky part. The gang didn’t understand her dilemma because they didn’t know the whole story. She hadn’t wanted to reveal too much and blow her anonymity. But the more she got to know the gang, the more comfortable she became, and consequently she recognized the ludicrousness of her paranoia.
She thought about it for a moment, how all her life her mother had drilled into her and Mallory how they were different from other people. That it was imperative that they kept their lives private. Their father had a high profile in the business world, and Mother had an equally prominent name in the society columns.
Tori understood from an early age that she had a responsibility to protect the Whitford name, to contribute to the success of the multigenerational company developed by Tori’s great-great-grandfather.
Jake could never be a part of that life. He’d hate every moment of the pomp and circumstance that surrounded her world. Sure, she’d been mildly defiant, by using a nickname and working at the center, but mostly she avoided confrontation. Her mother could be unbearably intolerant and outspoken, and if Tori were to introduce Jake into the…
She shuddered at the thought.
That could never happen. It would be awful. Any connection they had would be destroyed.
She started another e-mail, trying to capture her dilemma in words. After typing three sentences, she stared at the screen in horror. Her mother sounded like a tyrant, and Tori sounded like a whipped puppy. The gang would never understand her family dynamic.
Tori took in a deep breath, her head beginning to swim. She wasn’t sure she understood, either. The whole thing was so damn complicated.
She closed her eyes, the week away starting to sound better and better. Or even as Kelly had suggested, three or four days were better than nothing. If everything went all right, they could stay longer.
The answer suddenly seemed crystal clear. She signed off and closed her laptop. Next, she called Kathryn to check up on Beth, who’d thankfully remained at the center. Tori explained to Kathryn she’d be out of town for a few days and left her cell phone number.
After disconnecting the call, she swallowed around the lump that had been building in her throat, took a deep breath and then punched in Jake’s number.
“OH, MY, GOD, this is awesome.” Tori leaned over the deck railing of the sprawling beach house and gazed out at the sailboats on the Gulf, the only sign of civilization for miles. “This couldn’t be a more perfect day.”
Jake shaded his eyes and stared up at the cloudless blue sky and privately agreed. Already his mood had improved. When she’d called the day before, he’d almost told Victoria to go to hell. Let her mother find her a rich boyfriend to take her for a getaway weekend.
But something stopped him. He just couldn’t do it. After all, what red-blooded male would turn down great sex? That’s the only thing that had stopped him from blowing her off.
“Can we go sailing?” she asked, turning to him, her eyes shining with a childlike excitement that disarmed him. “I’ve never been.”
“No kidding?”
She shrugged. “I never had the opportunity. My parents aren’t exactly water sports kind of people.”
“Where did you go on vacations?”
She frowned. “You mean, with them?”
He nodded, some of the resentment he’d held on to on the drive down beginning to slip away.
She looked away, focusing on the water gently lapping the sandy beach. “We never really had family vacations. My dad has always worked a lot and, well, Mother traveled but not to places for children. Mostly spas or garden shows, that sort of thing. We had a nanny that used to take Mallory and I to the symphony in Dallas on occasion.”
The symphony? Yeah, right, that was on his wish list as a child. By the time he’d been twelve, he and his sister had both been to Disneyland twice with their dad. They’d also visited Six Flags Magic Mountain a couple of times. They’d only be away for four days tops, and it wasn’t until much later that he realized it must have been hard financially on his father, but he never once let it show. Family vacations had been important to him. Important enough that he’d even leave the precious Whitford grounds for a few days.
He looked back at Victoria. “Have you ever been to Disneyland?”
She blinked at him. “No.”
“Any kind of amusement park?”
She shook her head.
“We’re going to Disneyland,” he said, the impulse obviously surprising her as much as himself.
“Now?”
He chuckled. “Next time.”
She started to smile, and then panic flickered in her eyes and she suddenly got real interested in studying the outside architecture. “You haven’t shown me the house yet.”
He got the message. Loud and clear. There wasn’t going to be any next time. “Let’s go.”
At the gruffness in his voice, she slid him a wary look and then preceded him into the house. He left the sliding glass door open to let in the breeze. The house had been closed up for some time. In fact, it had sat vacant while it had been on the market for the past year.
“I like the way the architect did this,” she said, twirling around to look at it from every angle. “One big room for the kitchen and dining room and family room. Perfect for a party. Or even just cooking and watching TV. Plus you can see the Bay from three sides.”
“Yeah, you can also see the water from two of the three bedrooms. Even the third one lets you get a small glimpse. Come on, I’ll show you.”
She followed him down the short hall. “You haven’t told me who owns this place.”
“The bank, probably.”
She laughed. “Come on, really.”
He opened a door. “This is the master bedroom.”
Her lips parted as she entered the semicircular room. Glass and a wooden deck separated them from the beach. There were more windows than walls.
He had to admit, the view was spectacular. Even at night when all the stars were out, the moon golden, you could sometimes see ships traveling in the distance, lights strung from brow to stern.
“This is incredible.” She stood at the glass doors, shaking her head. “I don’t understand why someone isn’t living here.”
“Too far a commute if you work in Houston. Besides, would you ever want to go to work at all?”
She grinned. “And your point would be?”
“Yeah, right, like you don’t live for work.”
Her eyebrows came down. “That is one thing no one can accuse me of.”
“Right.”
She gave him a peeved look. “I’m not talking about work for the next fours days. I’m not even thinking about it. Got it?”
“Then why bring the briefcase?”
Color rose in her cheeks. “Appearances,” she said tightly, and when he frowned she added, “Look, I just started the job and I have a ton of reports to read in order to familiarize myself with the company. I kind of told my father I was getting away in order to catch up without distraction.”
He smiled. “Is that right?”
“You don’t understand.” She tuned back to stare out the window. “I do have a responsibility to contribute to the business.”
“Actually I was thinking about the distraction part.” He moved closer and slipped his arms around her waist, drawing her back against his chest. “You don’t think you’ll have any distraction here?” he asked, and slid his hands up to cup her breasts.
She stiffened. “Can people see inside?”
“No.”
“Sure?”
“Positive.”
With a sigh, she relaxed against him. “How do you know? Bring many women here?”
“You’re the first.” He turned her around and kissed her, first on the tip of her nose and then on the lips. Gently, teasingly. “Come here.”
When she realized he was leading her to the bed, she put on the brakes. “We can’t use this room.”
“Why not?”
“This has to be the owner’s room.”
“He won’t care.”
“But Jake—
Ignoring her protests, he pulled up the hem of her knit shirt and got it over her head. The peach-colored bra she wore had a front clasp and was easily freed and discarded. He stopped and stared at the beauty of her firm, round breasts, the rosy tips of her nipples.
Nibbling at her lower lip, she glanced out the window. “How far away are the neighbors?”
“Too far to hear you scream.”
She sharply brought her gaze back to him, excitement already sparkling in her eyes. “Are you going to make me scream?”
He smiled, and unzipped her shorts.