Patience (9 page)

Standing in front of the mirror, Jenna smiles. No way am I going to let her talk me into this. She can take her happy-go-lucky ass right back out to the car.

The faster, the better.

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad, right?" I open my mouth to protest, but she shushes me. "I mean, it's a little run down, but it's clean. Other than the smell, it's fine. Let's go out, eat dinner, find a place to dance, and all we'll do here is sleep for a few hours." She pouts, her lip looking so damn delicious, and when she does that, she knows she has me.

She could talk a priest into robbing a bank. Swear to god.

"Get ready as fast as you can. We're getting out of here before I choke to death on that odor." I'm defeated, and she smiles widely, jumping up and down in glee.

How she hasn't puked yet, I don't know.

I walk to her and take her in my arms, burying my head in her hair. Usually when I do that, it's because I want to be close to her, to feel her against me. Now, I just want to smell something, anything, that will wipe that disgusting smell out of my nose.

And now, all I smell is strawberry dog shit.

I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. For fuckin' real. Releasing her, I take a step back and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

What the hell?
My cheek is swollen and bruised, and it looks as if I've been punched in the face. No damn wonder everyone has been staring at me.

Jenna scurries away, running and giggling out of the bathroom. She knew the whole time.

"Jenna!"

Chapter 21

Jenna

OK, so this place sucks. The odor is enough to make me want to gag, and the shower... eeeek! There is no way in hell I'll be bathing in there. It's a good thing I took one this morning.

So, I'm Jenna Ryan. I can get through anything. We'll just stop at Target and get some sheets and a blanket to cover the bed, and I'll buy some scented candles to hide the nasty odor.

I take a deep breath as I look around.
I've got this
.

"Come on. Let's get ready!" Yeah, sometimes being optimistic is daunting, but nothing is going to ruin my night. I mean, it can't be that bad, right?

"Jenna, you look great just the way you are." His voice is deep and sexy, and it sends shivers up my spine. If he keeps talking to me like that, we're never going to leave this room, and lord knows I don't want to be stuck in this shithole all night. "But I do have dinner reservations I think you'll like."

"Oh, yeah?" I'm beginning to wonder what can be done to salvage this night. How the hell am I supposed to do a sexy striptease in a hotel room with stained carpet that smells like a horse's ass?

"They may have been overbooked for rooms, but we still have dinner reservations there." He sounds hopeful, no longer agitated, so I put on a smile and continue plotting.

"What time?" We need to allow time for a quick run to Target. Otherwise, I'm not entirely sure I'll make it in this room all night.

"Six o'clock. Why?"

"Babe, we need to make a pit stop at Target. I think we can agree that we're not sleeping on those sheets, right?" I cringe inside just thinking about it.

"Jenna, who said we'd be sleeping at all?" His eyes twinkle as he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my shoulders. My breath hitches in my throat, and my body instantly responds to him. I melt against him, his breath teasing my neck.

I struggle to remind myself that this is my night, and I'm the one who's in control. I slide out from under his arm and move away. "I don't know about you, but I'm pooped. That tour drained me." Who am I kidding? This was one of the best days of my life.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you." His arms drop to his sides as he begins sorting through his suitcase. Well, crap. I wanted to be in charge, but he didn't have to give up so damn easily.

I sort my things and go into the bathroom to change. Grabbing a towel, I spread it over the counter before laying my things down on top of it. In this stinky shithole, I begin my transformation.

Thirty minutes later, I'm wearing the outfit Quincy swears will bring him to his knees. A bright red, strappy babydoll dress that falls just above my knees. It floats around me, loose yet sexy, hinting at what lies underneath without showing off the goods. My toes are painted Kiss Me Deadly Red and look great in nude wedges. Leaving my hair down, I flat-iron it straight and clip my bangs back.

Operation Striptease is back on track.

When I walk out, Eric has his back to me. He's wearing a slate gray button-up and dark slacks and is perfection personified. I'd like to say I noticed the way his blonde hair kissed the back of his neck or how strong and broad his shoulders are, but the fact is, my eyes were glued to his ass. More specifically, the way his slacks hugged it, a testament of his athletic days.

He turns, looking for his shoes, and finds me watching him. As a smile slowly forms on his lips, it cross my mind that he's never looked more handsome... and then, I burst out laughing.

I'm sorry, but the black eye just gets to me.

I wrap my arms around myself, holding my stomach, as I laugh and gasp for air. "I'm sssssorry! It's just-"

Walking toward me, he smiles seductively, "What? You don't like the eye?" He pulls me toward him as he lowers his face to mine. I struggle to regain my composure. "Doesn't it fit the 'bad boy' persona you like so much?" His forehead rests against mine, and I'm sobered by his blue eyes, entranced by the sounds of his voice.

"Eric James, I'll take you any way I can get you. As long as I finally get you." I press my lips to his, just one brief touch, as I close my eyes and breathe him in. Thank God, he's wearing my favorite cologne.

"And you will. I promise." His tongue traces my lower lip, exploring, tasting, teasing, before he pulls away. Still holding me close, he intently stares into my eyes and whispers, "I'm already yours."

So not playing along with my game.

"Let's go before I decide against it," I breathlessly whisper and step back. My body rebels against me, so hot for his touch, as my pulse quickens and my breathing becomes shallow.

He's making this so hard.

Breaking eye contact, I gather my purse and walk to the door.

It's so damn hard to walk away from him, so hard to pretend that things haven't changed between us... he said he's mine, and by gosh, I'm going to hold him to that.

Chapter 22

Eric

She takes my breath away. Yes, she looks amazing, but the way she smiles at me, the way she makes me feel inside, is explosive. She's like an illicit drug, and now that I've had a taste of her, it's a high I'll be chasing for the rest of my life.

Hello. My name is Eric James, and I am an addict.

Like I say, I think my heart knew the minute I met her that she was the girl for me. I remember the exact moment that my head finally caught up. It was one of those moments when things that you didn't even know were screwed up suddenly feel right.

We were at my parents' house. I had taken Jenna home with me over the Labor Day weekend, and we were sitting at the bar in our kitchen, waiting for my parents to get home.

My mom and dad are both lawyers, both very dedicated to their jobs. I have a feeling I'm an only child because they didn't want anyone else getting in their way. I've always called myself a Type A, but the truth is, it's probably more like 'only child' syndrome. I never had other kids to play with, being raised around my parents' business partners all my life. Until I started school, I spent a lot of time alone or with the nanny. As I got older, I made friends at school and spent most of my time with them.

My parents were great... when they were around. I understood that their jobs were demanding, and once I hit high school, I didn't even notice that our family wasn't like my friends' families. However, the moment I announced that I wanted to be a lawyer, to follow in their footsteps, the real pressure started. It's like they made me their project overnight, and everything became focused on getting me set on the right path.

It began to feel as if it wasn't my decision after all.

The pressure was getting to me. I played baseball. I partied with my friends. But I was always careful to make the grade.

Then, in college, I began to rebel in small ways.

I quit baseball in favor of volunteering at the local homeless and battered women's shelters.

I got a tattoo. It may be on my ass where nobody can see it, but I know it's there.

I found the girl of my dreams, even though my parents had lectured me to wait.

Now, I'd brought her home.

I know my parents want the best for me, and I may not follow their plans a hundred percent, but they do love me. They do want what's best for me. They'll be good to Jenna no matter what they really think. Being lawyers, I think they know that if they pressure me, I'll rebel. They've been around the block a few times. Lawyers are as manipulative as psychiatrists because they know all the tricks.

The day we left for my parents' house, I was strangely calm. I'd already made up my mind, and I knew that nothing my parents said would affect my decision. Really, it never even dawned on me that things might not go well.

Jenna was nervous. As she chewed on her thumb nail and anxiously looked around my parent's showplace, I tried my best to reassure her. "You know my parents are just like your parents, right?"

"Somehow, I doubt that." Her eyes widened a fraction, then she resumed chewing her nail. I had never seen her like that.

"I promise, they'll love you. Who couldn't love a face like this?" I reached out, placing a finger under her chin and tilting her head toward me. Her blue eyes found mine, searching, as she relaxed against me, her face snuggling into my palm.

"If you say so." She smiled, and I knew she wanted to believe me.

I leaned in, capturing her lips with mine. Sighing, she melted against me, her tongue meeting mine. I pulled back, cupping her face in my hands, and stared into her eyes. "I do say so." She blinked and a smile crept across her face before she pulled me to her for another kiss.

When her hands came up around my neck, and her fingers ran through my hair, I knew we were playing with fire. My parents would be home any minute.

I slowed the kiss, backing away and resting my forehead against hers. As our breathing slowed, I laughed at the idea of my parents walking in to find us naked in the kitchen. "So, Jenna, it's such a turn on that you're into dogging."

She pulled away, confusion on her face. "That's the second time you've said that, and I just want you to know, doggy is great and all, but it's not my favorite."

I couldn't help myself. Laughter erupted from me forcefully, causing me to clutch my sides. Every time I looked at her, the puzzled look, on her adorable face, I laughed harder, until I had to wipe tears from my eyes.

"What?" She huffed, rolling her eyes at me.

"You-" I laughed. "You thought-" I couldn't stop laughing while she became more and more flustered. "You thought I was talking about doggy?"

"Well, yes. That's what you said." Her eyes were wide with shock. She really had no idea.

"Jenna, I said 'dogging'. You know, like public sex and voyeurism, doing it where you might get caught." I burst out laughing again at her indignant look.

"Do what?" Her face reddened as her shoulders began to shake with laughter. Covering her mouth, she giggled, saying, "It means wha-?" Her words faded into laughter.

"Yes, Sunshine. But I like the way you're thinking." I was suddenly sober, my pants suddenly crowded, as I stared into her twinkling eyes.

Even when I was laughing my ass off, she managed to turn me on.

That's how my mom found us, laughing and talking, when she walked into the room. "You guys look like you're having a good time." She smiled at Jenna as she pulled me in for a hug. "Anything you want to share with me?"

"No, Mom. Just an inside joke." I looked over her shoulder. "Where's Dad?"

"He'll be home in a few. He had a few loose ends to tie up before he left the office." Turning to Jenna, she asked, "So, you must be Jenna? Eric has told me so much about you."

Jenna stood awkwardly, offering her hand, but my mom pulled her into a hug. "Yes, ma'am. Jenna Ryan. Nice to meet you."

"Just call me Sylvia." Mom was still in her work clothes, a gray business skirt, some kind of fancy white shirt, and heels. Her hair is as blonde as mine, but her blue eyes are lighter, more piercing. She can be intimidating, and she almost always gets her way, inside the courtroom and out. I was happy to see her smiling and talking so openly with Jenna. "You guys go hang out while I throw something together for dinner." She's also a gourmet cook.

Jenna offered to help, but we got shooed out of the kitchen. Even though she was nervous, I'd never seen her look more beautiful.

We watched a movie until I heard my dad walk through the door and mom called us to dinner. Jenna had finally relaxed, and she stood up to greet my dad. When he extended his hand, she took it, smiling enthusiastically. I watched the interaction, allowing them to make their own introductions.

Dinner was quiet for the most part, but when my mom asked Jenna about her college plans, she opened up, talking at length about her dream to open her own interior decorating firm. Usually, our family dinner conversation is centered on their cases at work or me and my plans. It was a relief to have the distraction.

I was kind of lost, listening as Jenna drew my mom into a conversation about calming colors and the benefits of using them in your office, when my dad interrupted. "Jenna, you know Eric is very serious about pursuing a career in law. We've advised him to wait until after he finishes school before marriage."

It got so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. I opened my mouth, but Jenna put her hand on my thigh under the table, stopping me. Then, she smiled and answered very sweetly. "Mr. James, you don't have to worry about that. I'm never going to marry your son because I'm never going to change my name to Jenna James."

If I thought it was quiet before, I had no idea. It was as if we were all holding our breaths, waiting to see who would speak first. First, my mom started laughing, then me, and then, we were all laughing.