Nobody But You (5 page)

He gave her an odd look. “I'm not on duty right now.” He gestured to the cabin behind her. Now that it was becoming dark, she could see the cabin was lit up from within, looking homey and inviting. And she'd somehow missed the fact that there was a new truck parked in the driveway next to it.

“I saw you from the front porch,” he said.

“You bought the cabin?”

“Rented it.” And then he took a pull of the Scotch as well.

And didn't choke.

She watched his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. She stared at the stubble on his jaw and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he relaxed a little bit. And then there was his mouth. Pulling the bottle away from that mouth, he licked his lips, and from deep within her came a…quiver.

Not good. So. Not. Good. She already knew she couldn't make a smart decision to save her life under the best of circumstances, of which this most definitely wasn't.

“Something I said?” he asked wryly as she backed away.

“No.”
Yes
. She paused, because in truth she had no idea.

What she
did
know was that he churned her up, big-time—though she'd go to hell and back before admitting such a thing. “I've gotta go,” she said, and bolted belowdecks. She closed the door and then pressed an ear to it, listening, hoping to hear his footsteps moving off.

She heard nothing.

But then again, she hadn't heard him coming either. For such a big guy, he'd sneaked up on her several times now, and that made her nervous, very nervous.

Lucas had been big too, and also sneaky.

And sometimes mean.

Which was why Jacob's obvious virility was a problem. He moved like a cat. A big, sleek, lethally sexy cat…

She froze at that. She backed up the thought and ran it by herself again. A big, sleek, lethally sexy cat…? No. No, no, no, no. Jacob was
not
sexy, not in the slightest.

Except he was.

The truth was, Jacob was so damn sexy she couldn't see straight for all the wanting and yearning he'd caused inside her, and that was the biggest problem of all.

Did she want to rediscover herself and reclaim her sexuality? Sure. And if that happened, great. But she didn't want more than that. She didn't want to get emotionally invested, or worse, fall for him. Because falling was dangerous and made her stupid, and she'd made a conscious choice not to do either of those things ever again.

W
hen she was gone, Jacob stayed where he was. She'd made him smile. She'd made him laugh. The muscles around his mouth had pulled like they were rusty, and they were. Smiling had felt foreign and odd and…

Good.

“Sophie,” he said to the door, knowing she was listening. He could feel her nerves through the wood. It bothered him that he made her nervous. He wanted to make her smile. Maybe make her want him as much as he wanted her. But he didn't want to scare her. “It's considered rude to leave a guest out here drinking alone,” he teased.

She didn't bite. The door remained firmly shut.

He couldn't hear anything from the other side, but he was pretty sure her emotions could supply enough energy to light up the entire western hemisphere. Thinking about her reaction to the price of the Scotch, he stood and moved to the door. She'd seemed far more hurt than mad, and that sucked. “Come out,” he said quietly, knowing she could hear every word. “I'll help you waste some more of the Glenlivet.”

Nothing but a very loaded silence.

Willing to wait her out, he sat again, leaned his head back, and watched the last of the day's light vanish behind an entire spectrum of blues and purples streaking across the sky. Been a damn long time since he'd caught a Rocky Mountain sunset. There'd been a lot of “been a damn long times” here in Cedar Ridge since he'd returned.

And none of it was exactly comfortable.

The water slapped against the dock and the boat. Insects hummed. The air was scented with pine, and all of it evoked more memories than he knew what to do with.

He and Hud had ridden around this lake on their bikes. Made rope swings in trees and judged their own crazy entries into the water. Had climbed the peaks and camped out as often as they could. When they'd hit fifteen, they'd gone to work at the resort their father had deserted, making it their own. Had spent the next three years getting closer to their half siblings Gray and Aidan. And then Kenna, as well, once she'd come along.

He realized he was smiling again, though it faded when he remembered what had come next.

Him leaving.

Walking away.

He turned his head at the sound of someone approaching on the dock, a tall, pretty brunette in painted-on jeans shorts and a white tank top, her high-heeled sandals defying logic and gravity as they carried her to the boat.

She eyed the bottle of Glenlivet and her eyes lit up. “Is it a party?”

“Excuse me?” he asked.

She smiled, extremely friendly-like. “Is Lucas having a party? He didn't mention it.” She looked around. “We have a long-standing once-a-week date here in front of the empty cabin. Where is he?”

He could almost feel Sophie stop breathing from belowdecks. Could imagine her green eyes narrowing, see the steam coming out of her ears. Damn, that would be hot. But that wasn't why he did what he did. Nope. It was because he felt like he owed her one. “First of all, the cabin's no longer empty. And second, Lucas…passed,” he told the woman.

“Like…gas? He passed gas?” she asked, confused. “That's nothing new. He always does that.”

“Not gas,” Jacob said.

The woman stared at him and then gasped, hand to her chest. “You mean he's…?”

Jacob nodded.

“That asshole!” she yelled. “He promised me a diamond bracelet!” Whirling, she went running—and loudly sobbing—up the dock.

Sophie stormed out. “Hey,” she said, every bit as magnificent as he'd known she would be, eyes flashing, all that wild red hair in uncontrollable motion around her face. “That's
my
lie! You can't lie about someone you don't even know!”

Jacob shrugged. “I just gave her the information I'd been told.”

“You didn't even have to say the words.”

“That would've been mean. If she misunderstood my silence, that's on her.”

She stared at him for a beat. “Are you saying I'm mean?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “But I like mean on you. It's sexy. Kind of like your pink robe.”

“You're a sick man.”

“There is no doubt.”

She shook her head at him, but he could tell she was smiling on the inside. He'd meant what he'd said about the robe, the one that should have made her look fifty years old but instead made him want to pull her to him and nuzzle her.

Crazy. She was crazy. And so was he. Because he wasn't sure what it was about her that had him so interested. He had no idea why he wanted to keep whatever this tentative connection was that they had going, but he did.

He offered her the bottle of Scotch.

She met his gaze, her dilemma evident. She couldn't reach it unless he stood. He didn't, hoping that instead, she'd move closer.

She hesitated, but he waited her out, doing his best to look harmless. When she finally took the few steps, he felt like he'd won the lottery and casually nodded to the bench for her to sit.

Instead, she crossed her arms. That bathrobe hid what he knew was a God-given figure with curves that could make a grown man forget he didn't know how to love.

She eyed the bench a long beat but did eventually sit, perching primly as far from him as she could get and yet still be close enough to grab the bottle.

Smart woman.

She took the Scotch and drank. Her eyes watered and she coughed as she handed it to him. With a sigh, she leaned back to study the night sky. Her bared throat was slim and creamy smooth. An unexpected temptation. Remembering the flash of pain and vulnerability she'd unwittingly revealed, and that for whatever reason he'd somehow added to it, he spoke. “I'm sorry.”

She glanced at him as if she'd never heard a man apologize before in her life. “For…breathing?” she asked. “Having a penis? What?”

“You were upset because you didn't know I was a Kincaid.”

She sighed. “That was just me looking for a reason to be mad at you so I wouldn't…” She bit her lower lip, clearly not wanting to go on.

But now he had to know. “So you wouldn't what?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It's just that I'm trying to make better choices.”

“Of which I wouldn't be one.”

“It's not necessarily your fault,” she said. “It's that you're a man.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“And I'm off men right now.”

“And on…women?” he asked with admittedly more than a little fascination.

She rolled her eyes. “I'm on
no one
, but thank you for proving my point on men.”

“I get that,” he said. “But being off men doesn't seem to be making you very happy, or sound like a whole lot of fun.”

“Maybe I don't need fun.”

He understood that. He'd felt the same way since Brett died. “What
do
you need?” he asked, honestly wanting to know more about her.

Instead of answering, she reached for the bottle. He waited until she met his gaze before letting go.

“Nothing,” she said a little too quickly. “Everything's…perfect.”

“And your glass is half full,” he said. “So you've said.” But he didn't believe her. “How about a game?”

“I don't play games.”

Now, that wasn't exactly true. Whether she knew it or not, she'd been playing with his head since he'd first laid eyes on her. “Three truths and a lie,” he said.

She stared at him. “As in you tell me three truths and a lie, and I pick out the lie?”

“Yes.”

She considered this. “What do I get if I win?”

“What do you want?”

For the briefest of beats, her gaze dropped to his mouth. Oh, hell yeah, he thought.
Want me…

“My first boyfriend taught me that game,” she said.

“What did the winner get?”

“A kiss.”

Definitely still playing with his head… “Is that what you want, Sophie? A kiss?”

Again she stared at his mouth before dropping eye contact and wrapping that eye-stopping pink robe tighter around her body. “Do
you
?” she asked.

“Hell yes.”

Her gaze flew to his.

“Problem is,” he said conversationally, “if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop.”

Her mouth literally fell open. The pulse at the base of her throat jumped. And she seemed to lose her words.

He went on. “But you should know, I don't lose. That means you'll have to tell me three truths and a lie.”

And he'd hopefully get to know more about her.

She closed her mouth to bite her lower lip in what could've been indecision or excitement. Obviously he was hoping for the latter. “But hey, if you're not sure you can handle losing, we can just forget about it,” he said.

The challenge lifted her chin and put sparks in her eyes.
That's it, babe. Show me what you've got.

“Bring it,” she said. “Three truths and a lie, and if I guess the lie, I…” Again, she tortured her lower lip.

“Say it, Sophie.”

She squirmed a little bit. “I kiss you.”

“And in reverse?”

She paused, and he cocked a brow. “You kiss me,” she said softly but with unmistakable interest.

Christmas in June.

“Another drink first,” she said, and took hers before giving him the bottle. Holding her gaze, he drank too.

“You go first,” she said.

“Hell no,” he said on a low laugh.

“Why not?” she demanded.

“You're a flight risk.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you've already run away from me at least twice now. Plus, you're eyeing the alcohol like it's a Hawaiian getaway.”

She tilted her head and studied him frankly, not playing shy or coy in the slightest. She'd been right—she didn't play games—and he realized he was smiling again. Clearly she was down but not out, and he liked her attitude. He liked it a lot.

“Fine,” she said. “I'll go first, you big baby. But there's no way you'll be able to pick out my lie.” She said this smugly. “No one can ever tell when I'm lying.”

He knew that was probably true. For all her fiery temperament, she was all talk, no go. She hid behind the tough-girl facade, and clearly the people in her life had let her.

But he knew a little something about hiding, too, and it hadn't ever worked out well for him. He was changing that. And if
he
had to, well, they said misery loved company. He smiled. “Try me,” he said. “And no ‘my favorite color is red and I like long walks on the beach and I'm a natural blonde and I hate ice cream' bullshit either. It's gotta be something good. In fact, I think the other person gets to set the topic. And the topic I set for you is…reasons you're on this boat you hate. Go.”

She rolled her lips together, eyes on his as she thought so hard he could practically hear the wheels spinning. “Okay,” she finally said. “One, I love this boat very much. Two, I happen to think it's very freeing to live out here on the water, very freeing. Three, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. And four, I'm just waiting for my overnight boat pass to be approved and then I can better settle in and won't bother you again.” She turned her face skyward and closed her eyes, like all was right in her world and she hadn't just fed him four fat lies.

He took another drink, and when she finally opened her eyes and looked at him, he handed her the bottle to do the same.

“Well?” she demanded.

He nudged the bottle to her lips and watched as she took a sip. “You cheated,” he said.

She choked on a laugh and coughed.

And coughed.

Thinking she was going to lose a lung, he leaned in and rubbed her back firmly, absolutely not noticing how soft her skin was or how she felt beneath his hand.

Much.

Finally, she swiped her eyes and gave him a look from beneath lowered lashes. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You cheated,” he said again, “because
all
of your answers were lies.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. When she opened her mouth, he shook his head, cutting off whatever she might have said next. “Don't make it worse for yourself by adding yet another lie,” he teased.

She let out a low laugh. “No one's ever been able to tell—”

“Oh, you're good,” he assured her. “I'm just better.”

She looked intrigued at this, like maybe she was realizing they both had their ghosts. “Hmm,” she said.

“Cheaters pay a penance. You know that, right?”

She gave him a sideways look. “Do they, now?” she asked, voice softer. Playing a little, he thought, which made his night.

“Yes.” His voice was husky now too. Jesus. This had gone from a playful game to something hot and seductive in a blink. “Maybe you'd like to reconsider some of your answers rather than pay the price.”

She thought about that and…didn't change any of her answers.