A Man to Believe In Page 12

  He pushed her away from him slightly so that he could see her face. “I think it would have killed me to see her get hurt.”

  “But isn’t that part of growing up, getting a few scratches when you try something new.”

  “Sure, but I knew she was counting on me to be there for her, and I couldn’t let her down. I’ve always worried that someday I would let her down.” He focused his attention on a spot on the wall for a long moment, then looked back at her. “Like my dad did. He let us all down.”

  “He ran out on you, Jake.” She reached up and touched his cheek with her hand. “That’s different.”

  “I understand that now. And I realize that for the past twenty years or so, I’ve been trying to convince everyone that I’m not like my dad. I wanted everyone to know I could be counted on, anytime.” He let out a derisive chuckle. “Hell, I was so determined to be there if someone needed me, I was there whether they needed me or not. Just the way I was with you.”

  “Jake, I’m sorry I—”

  “Hey, this is my turn to eat crow. Don’t try and upstage me, okay?”

  “But I overreacted and I’m really not any good with cars and if—”

  “Hey, that’s enough of that. I’ve given this a lot of thought—even got some semiprofessional advice on the matter,” he said, knowing Ricky deserved the credit for coming up with the idea about all the gifts he’d given her. “And I realized I was the one who was out of line, not you. So don’t apologize.” He formed the meanest, sternest scowl he could. “Or I’ll take back all my gifts and go home.” Then he grinned.

  Cori reached up and locked her hands behind his neck. Exerting the slightest pressure, she pulled him closer. “You’re not going anywhere, funny face,” she said, and brought his lips to hers.

  Nine

  Cori stood before the picture window at the front of her store. It was hard to believe there were only twenty-five more shopping days until Christmas.

  People strolled by wearing shorts, tank tops, rubber thongs, attire more often seen in the middle of summer than the beginning of winter. Next door, the white plastic tables and chairs peppering the sidewalk in the front of the old-fashioned ice cream parlor were filled with holiday shoppers pausing for a midday treat, shoppers who—she hoped—would be eager to check out the new bookstore in the center tomorrow. Tomorrow. The day of her grand opening. She could hardly stand the wait, she thought as she reached up and closed the blinds, deciding she didn’t want anyone trying to sneak a peek at the new store until everything was perfect, ready for business.

  “General McLaughlin, do you have any other assignments, or may I report to mess for lunch?”

  Her lips pursed together to suppress a grin, she slowly turned to face Jake, realizing she could enjoy the way he teased her about her being in charge because she knew it was just that—teasing.

  The long talk they’d had that day he’d come over dressed as a clown had been an important turning point for them. She’d managed to explain her need for independence without going into the nitty-gritty details about why it was so important to her, and he’d listened intently before promising he would wait for her to ask for help before giving it. So far he’d been true to his word. In the two weeks they’d been working together getting her store ready, he hadn’t once tried to usurp her position as foreman of the project. Not once. She was beginning to believe he understood—truly understood—her need to be in control of her own life.

  “The window display of hardcover best sellers is done?” she asked with mock seriousness, playing the role of general to the hilt.

  He gave her a crisp salute and clicked his heels. The brown leather work boots he wore thudded together. “Completed, as ordered.”

  Right on schedule. Thanks to Jake, she acknowledged, thinking she never would have made her December first deadline if she hadn’t accepted his help. She glanced around, taking enormous pride in the amount of work they’d accomplished in such a short amount of time.

  The floor glistened with a just-waxed shine, and the carpeted area off to the right was no longer speckled with tiny bits of paper and packing materials. The cardboard boxes and construction debris were pretty much gone, along with most of the power tools and fat orange electrical cords she’d been stepping over for days.

  There were good-size plants here and there—a ficus in the corner by the window, six-foot-tall palms on either side of the magazine section, several pothos hanging from hooks in the ceiling, just enough greenery to soften the harsh lines created by row after row of books. And Jake’s idea to put an Oriental rug on the floor between the overstuffed chairs—one of the many excellent ideas he’d come up with, she had to admit—helped give the reading area a cozy, come-sit-for-a-while feeling.

  As she turned in a slow circle, taking in the entire effect, she realized that for the first time since she’d taken possession of the unit, she no longer felt as though she were standing in the middle of a big, empty room. This was a store. Her store.

  Unable to contain her excitement, she wandered from one set of bookshelves to another, finally stopping before the section that held the paperback releases. She pictured the way the place would look tomorrow, full of customers browsing for something to read or searching patiently for the perfect stocking-stuffer for someone special.

  When she felt a pair of arms circle her waist, she relaxed and let her head fall back onto Jake’s shoulder. He took advantage of her exposed neck and planted kisses along its length. He tugged at her earlobe several times before tracing the outline of her ear with his tongue.

  Like a sleep-drowsy cat, she stretched, then raised her arms high and reached back to hook her fingers together behind his neck. “Mmm …”

  “Mmm yourself. What’s for lunch?” His hands drifted up her sides until they reached her breasts.

  She arched her back, pressing into his caress. His thumbs circled her nipples, and they hardened instantly. “Hungry?”

  “Famished.” Jake released his hold on her long enough to slide his hands beneath her sweatshirt and flick open the front clasp on her bra.

  “For food?” She turned around and smiled up at him, knowing what his answer would be.

  “Among other things.” He slid the shirt up and over her head, dropping it on the floor at his feet. His mouth came down and captured an exposed breast as his hands worked to release the buttons on the fly of her jeans. Kneeling in front of her to make it easier for him to get rid of the denim in his way, he found himself staring at a pair of white bikini panties covered with a million red polka dots. He wondered if it was possible for him to kiss every last spot, and decided it might be interesting to find out.

  His mind couldn’t concentrate on counting every tiny red speck, so he didn’t even try. He just started placing kisses everywhere he found a dot, short kisses, long kisses, playful biting kisses that left wet marks on her panties, while his fingers teased their way beneath the lace-edged bands circling her legs to find her slick and ready for him.

  Her hands braced on his shoulders, Cori tried to remain standing, but finally gave up. His tongue left a moist trail from her navel to her lips as she sank to the floor in front of him. Grasping handfuls of his hair, she opened her mouth wide, taking his tongue into the dark, warm interior with a moan.

  In the next instant the panties were gone. She stretched out beside him, her naked skin connecting with rough work jeans and a soft cotton shirt, and she decided that she could never get tired of the contrasting sensations she experienced with this man.

  Each time they made love it was different—relaxed and unhurried late at night in front of a slow-burning fire, unforgettably tender in the early morning hours before dawn. When they pulled off the road and parked overlooking the Rose Bowl, as they’d done twice in as many weeks when they’d been too impatient to wait until they got home, it was wildly wicked. They’d felt like teenagers skipping school, nervous for the first few minutes, then full of arrogant confidence when they’d managed to get aw
ay without getting caught. But on days like today…

  Her fingers trembled when she reached for the buttons of his shirt, releasing them one at a time, in no great hurry to be done with the pleasurable task. When she finally had them all free, Jake pulled the shirt off and tossed it aside. She unbuckled his belt, then struggled with the brass button at his waist. He chuckled, and she knew immediately what he was thinking—that it always took her twice as long to remove his clothing. She didn’t bother to point out that his hands were doing their best to distract her from accomplishing her job. She didn’t want to discourage him.

  At last they were both naked. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She sat up and straddled him, her knees hugging his sides.

  “Want to celebrate before lunch?” Without waiting for her answer, he lifted her up, then slowly lowered her over him, sliding into her easily. She let out a low moan.

  On days like today, making love was special, a ritual of indulgence they’d begun the first day they’d worked together in the store, after they’d hung the final strip of wallpaper on the wall behind the checkout counter. And each time they completed another project for her business they took time out the way they were doing now, for their own private celebration.

  But the sense of fulfillment she experienced at times like this had nothing to do with being another step closer to achieving her goal, and everything to do with being closer to Jake.

  She no longer tried to tell herself she wasn’t in love with him. The way he made her feel whenever they were together could be described only as love. And in spite of the caution that had become second nature to her over the years, she’d allowed her fears about becoming too dependent on a man to fade into the background as well. She was too happy being with Jake, celebrating with him, to let old doubts plague her.

  Her hands braced on his shoulders, she swayed from side to side, pressing into him one second, easing away the next. Like a heartless vamp, she teased him mercilessly, repeating her actions over and over until he suddenly grabbed her hips and held her still.

  She sensed him explode a split second before her own release. Worn out and happy, she collapsed on top of him.

  Cori came awake to fingers tapping a gentle rhythm up and down her spine. Feeling lazy as a hound dog on a hot afternoon, she raised her head a scant inch at a time, then cracked one eye open.

  “Have a nice nap?” Jake stared up at her, grinning like a fool.

  Still lying on top of him, she reached down and patted bare skin until she’d located his wrist, then pulled on his forearm until his watch was at eye level. Only eleven-thirty. Good, she thought, knowing she’d have panicked if she’d found she’d fallen asleep for more than a few minutes.

  “Nap was okay,” she answered.

  Chilly all of a sudden, Cori slid off him and cuddled to his side. “We really should get back to work, you know,” she said as she snuggled closer, seeking his warmth, making it impossible for either of them to follow through on her suggestion.

  “In a minute.” Jake reached for strands of her hair and used the ends to tickle one of her nostrils. “I’m too exhausted to stand up just yet.”

  She ignored the itchy sensation for as long as possible, then tucked her chin to her chest, moving her nose out of reach, and gave his hand a playful swat. “I’m going to miss this,” she said.

  “This?” He concentrated on her ear this time, teasing until she reached up and grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

  “No … this. Being able to make love like this. In the middle of the day,” she explained with a chuckle.

  We wouldn’t have to if we got married and bought a house halfway between here and my office, Jake wanted to say, thinking how nice it would be to meet at noon every now and then to nibble on each other instead of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

  But he kept his idea to himself, thinking he’d finally learned his lesson about pushing too far, too fast. The mere suggestion of marriage—even tossed out in a joking manner—might frighten Cori off. Reaching for her hand, Jake brought it to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

  “Me too,” he said instead, wondering once again what had happened to make her scared spitless of a committed relationship. “Me too.”

  The telephone rang, and Cori groped around until her fingers snatched the handset. “Buy the Book, Cori speaking.”

  “Hello, do you have a book of matches? I’m dying for a cigarette.”

  “Very funny, Marsha. You don’t smoke.”

  “I’m thinking of starting. Last night I decided I need a hobby that’s safer than having sex with my husband. Something that doesn’t result in nine straight months of fat days and twenty hours of mind-numbing labor pains,”

  “Ohmigod!” Cori sat up and squeezed Jake’s arm. “You had your baby, didn’t you? How are you doing? How is the baby? Oh, Marsha, why didn’t you call me?”

  “I am calling you.”

  “Last night. I could have come to the hospital. Why didn’t you call me last night?”

  “I was too busy calling everyone who works in the delivery room nasty names, that’s why.”

  The image of Marsha cussing out the nurses and doctors made Cori smile. “I’ll bet you came up with some real doozies.”

  “Yep. Kevin was appalled.”

  Jake signaled for Cori to let him talk.

  “Hang on, Marsha. Jake wants to speak to you.” She handed him the phone after he sat up.

  “Congratulations, Marsha. I heard the good news.… Uh-huh, that’s wonderful. When are the visiting hours?… Okay, then Cori should be able to stop by this afternoon. Hold on a second. Cori’s making funny signs with her hands.” He pressed the handset against his thigh. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

  “I can’t go this afternoon. I still have too much to do here.”

  “Well, how about I take care of whatever else needs to be done, and you can go see Marsha.” At Cori’s nod, he put the phone back to his ear. “She’ll be over in an hour or so. Take care.” He hung up the phone.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked. “I don’t want to stick you with all the stuff left to do.”

  Jake bent over and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was short, over with in a flash. When he lifted his head, he was grinning. “Just make me a list, and I’ll get everything done while you visit your friend. It’s no big deal. Besides, I was going to have to figure out a way to get you out of here this afternoon anyway. This just makes my job easier.”

  “Get me out of here? What for?”

  “A surprise.”

  “I hate surprises, remember?”

  “Trust me. You’re gonna love this one.”

  She stared at him, worrying about what he had up his sleeve this time, but before she could question him further, he kissed her again, this time laying on a long, soul-searching humdinger that sent tingles to her toes and made her forget her worries.

  It was dark by the time Cori returned to the store that night. A pale yellow light, barely discernible, peeked through the window blinds. For a second she thought no one was there, and she wondered if she’d misunderstood Jake’s instructions. He’d told her to have a long visit with Marsha, then go straight home. She was to indulge in the most luxuriant bubble bath she could scare up, take a long nap, and then slip into some sexy piece of nothing designed to drive him wild.

  Taking a deep breath, she fished her keys from her purse and, remembering his promise of a you’re-gonna-love-it surprise, unlocked the deadbolt and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  Candles were responsible for the subdued lighting she’d seen when she pulled into the parking lot. A couple of dozen of them, maybe more, lined the windowsills, the checkout counter, anywhere there was a flat surface, the flames casting flickering shadows on the walls. Jake had polished the counters and woodwork with lemon oil, and they gleamed in the candlelight.

  The dump bins were assemb
led, stocked, and placed strategically throughout the store, according to the floor plan she’d designed. Even the signs she’d made—fiction, nonfiction, and all the rest—had been posted above the appropriate sections.

  The place was spotlessly clean, ready for business.

  A loud pop startled her, and she turned to see Jake standing behind her, holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. His mouth curved into a masculine smile of approval as his eyes skimmed over her pale pink camisole and the flowered skirt that allowed a sexy silhouette of her legs to show through the gauzy material. She noted he’d taken the time to dress for the occasion as well, choosing a gray herringbone sportcoat, a pink oxford-cloth shirt, and dark gray trousers. He looked handsome, she decided, incredibly handsome.

  “Surprise.” He poured the foaming liquid into a champagne flute and held it out to her. Accepting the glass, she waited until he’d poured one for himself. “I’d like to propose a toast,” he said, holding his glass high. “To Cori McLaughlin, sole proprietor of Buy the Book. May she have immediate and long-lasting success.”

  They clinked glasses. Tears welled up in her eyes as she drank the toast. “You got everything done. I’m amazed.”

  “Hey, you had doubts?” he asked with mock seriousness.

  Smiling, she took another sip of champagne. “One or two.”

  “Well”—he drew his arm in a wide circle that took in the entire store—“what do you think? Isn’t the place great?”

  She looked around, not bothering to hold back the tears. She walked over and set her glass on the counter, then returned to Jake and put her arms around him. She raised her mouth to his and whispered, “It’s wonderful. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Oh, we’ll think of a way,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers. A knock on the door kept him from giving her the hint he had in mind. “Don’t go away.”

  He rushed to the door and ushered in a man.

  The fellow wheeled in a small table, then proceeded to lay out dinner for two—complete with starched white tablecloth, gleaming silverware, and spotless china—before slipping back out the door.