Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1) (12 page)

BOOK: Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1)
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The wind moaned through the barren trees as Jenna slowly retraced her steps to the house. The trembling she'd fought to contain began again in earnest. It would be a long time before she felt warm again.
We have to forget it.
How would she forget the feel of him in her arms? Would she ever look at him again without remembering the wild excitement she'd experienced? How would she be able to forget she'd fallen in love with her boss? ***

"Morning, Jenna. You feeling okay? You don't look very well."

Pasting on a smile, she forced aside the gloom she'd been wallowing in all morning. "Hi, Harry. I'm fine. Had a little trouble sleeping last night, that's all."

"Is one of the kids sick?"

She stifled a laugh. It would've been interesting to see his expression had he known the truth. That after nearly attacking his cousin, she was too strung-out to sleep. "No. Just one of those nights, I guess."

Harrison Traynor was the quiet, reserved member of the family. One had only to look at him to guess he controlled the purse-strings. Meticulous was the first word that came to mind when she thought of him. He was one of the few men at Specialty, and certainly the only Traynor who wore a shirt and tie every day. Harry actually seemed to enjoy it. She'd never seen him look anything other than fresh-pressed and conservative, even at the end of the day. She wondered how much starch was required to still look stiff at five o'clock.

You wouldn't catch Jefferson in a dress shirt, never mind a tie. Jeff's uniform consisted of jeans and a golf shirt. She figured he must own thirty shirts, as he wore a different color each day. She was equally sure he probably didn't wash any of them until his stash was depleted.

Jake wasn't much better, only wearing dress clothes for days spent with clients. Sometimes he didn't even make it a whole day. He kept a charcoal suit in his office closet and would strip out of his clothes, changing in his office before he left for appointments. Legend had it that Mrs. Reilly had caught him on several occasions in various states of undress. She shook her head. You'd think he would've learned to lock his door.   

"Well, I hope you sleep better tonight." Harrison flicked a glance at his watch. "Is Jake in there with someone? I've got appointments all afternoon, and I need to talk with him."

"Sorry. He hasn't shown up yet."
The coward
. Actually, Jen was relieved. She couldn't begin to imagine how she was supposed to act around him. After torturing herself all night, she had come to the realization Jake was right. It had been a colossal mistake. An epic, horrifying moment of weakness. One in which she had nothing to gain and everything to lose. If Alex hadn't interrupted them, Jen was nearly certain she would have been left with no other option but to resign this morning. She'd risked her job– her security– over a man. Something she'd vowed would never happen.
What was wrong with her?
Hadn't she learned anything? No man was worth that kind of risk.

If her boss thought he could forget the incident . . . if Jake was willing to move forward as though nothing had happened, then she could, too. They'd handled issues before. Of course, those incidents hadn't involved tearing each other's clothes off.         

"Have him call me when he shows up?"

Harrison's voice brought her gratefully back to reality. "Sure, Harry."

"I need to discuss this Baltimore project with him."

"As soon as he's back," she promised. If she could manage to look him in the eye and form coherent sentences. Once Harry left, she took the easy way out and sent Jake an email. When her phone rang a moment later, she jumped.

Seriously? She was pathetic. If there was to be any hope of moving forward, Jenna had better get a handle on her emotions– damn fast. Jerking the receiver up, her heart tripped as she waited for his familiar voice. A moment later, she released the breath she'd been holding. "Hi, Mona. Sure. . . I'd love to have lunch with you today."

***

"What the hell were you thinking?" Jake flung his hardhat on the passenger seat and climbed into the truck. Though he'd asked himself that question at least a hundred times in the past fourteen hours, he was no closer to an answer. Or, to be honest, he was no closer to an answer he could live with. "You must be friggin' crazy." Dragging a hand through his hair, he sighed irritably.

Jake couldn't begin to explain what had happened with his assistant the previous night. One minute he was dumping Alex into bed and the next, he was kissing Jenna. Although mauling was a more accurate description. Devouring her. Drowning in the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He shook his splitting head, causing it to hammer even harder as he pulled away from the construction site. "All you had to goddamn do was say goodnight. Why the hell didn't you just leave?" He'd managed all of twenty minutes sleep the previous night. Every time he dropped off, he would jerk awake in a cold sweat when his subconscious replayed the incident with Jen.

How in sweet hell would he ever forget her electrifying response? How did one go about erasing the soft moans of pleasure that were seared in his memory? How would he forget the knowledge that his quiet, conservative assistant– who dressed and acted like a librarian, was the hottest, sexiest, most responsive woman he'd ever touched?

"Fuck." Just thinking about Jen made him ache. Remembering the feel of that soft, curvy body thrust against his made him want to shout with frustration. If Alex hadn't awakened when he did. . . hell, they wouldn't have even
made it
to her room. He'd been so out of his mind for her, he would've gladly taken her against the wall in the upstairs hallway. The bathroom counter. The dining room table. Those gorgeous eyes . . . locked with his . . . both of them mindless as he made her come. Even that farfetched image made him groan.

Jake's hand shook when he rolled down the truck window, in the desperate hope a blast of arctic air might cure his stupor. He had to fix this. Jenna was the best damned assistant he'd ever had. He couldn't lose her. Not over something like this. Christ– never in a million years would he have believed he was capable of something so stupid . . . so unprofessional.

The painful knot of desire burning in his stomach hurt only slightly less than the hollow lump of regret in his chest. He didn't know which was worse: the certainty of knowing that one night with Jen would be better than any fantasy he'd ever had about her, or the fact that he would never, ever get the opportunity to find out.

"Married. She's married, you idiot." His voice grim with frustration, his mind was distracted by a nearly overwhelming curiosity. Dammit, where was Rick? Why wasn't he part of their lives? Was he gone? Like officially? And if he wasn't– then why the hell was Jen responding to him like that? What did that say about her character? Jenna didn't seem the type to cheat, but what did he know?

Even worse, what did his actions say about
him
? That he would have had sex up against a wall– with a married woman? Drooling from afar was one thing, but giving in to temptation was entirely different. That he could even do it– the knowledge that he was capable of it– sickened him. To his core, Jake had truly believed he could never be one of those guys.

He didn't have a problem owning the fact he'd initiated the kiss. He'd been fighting the attraction for so long, he'd surrendered to a momentary lapse in sanity. But Jen sure as hell hadn't fought him. Without doubt, she was equally guilty. If Alex hadn't interrupted. . .

The shrill ring of his phone interrupted his frustrated thoughts. Jake was relieved to put the issue aside. The relief didn't carry over to his voice, he discovered when he barked into the receiver.

He listened as Harry launched into a detailed synopsis of his concerns regarding the Willoughby deal. His cousin had never mastered the art of small talk, preferring to leap right into the issues, assuming others would be able to follow his runaway train of thought. Harry had a one-track mind when it came to business, and for that, he was grateful. Jake was the first to admit he was more of a big picture guy. In fact, he hated dealing with the minutiae.

"Whoa. Hold up there, Hoss." He couldn't help grinning when he pictured Harry scowling on the other end of the phone. His cousin hated being forced to explain anything that to him– was crystal clear. "Clarify. What do you mean when you say 'too big a risk'?"

"I mean exactly that. If you take a look at our cash flow, we're going to be really stretched on this Baltimore deal. And I don't see a hell of a lot of profit to justify it."

"H, we'll make a profit-"

"If everything goes flawlessly, I agree. We'll make about three percent."

"Well, what's wrong with that?"

"Jake, you know as well as I do, something always goes wrong. And this time, there's no room for mistakes. The bid was lean because you wanted to win," he reminded. "I know you're expecting this to be a steppingstone to the Baltimore market."

Yawning, Jake switched the phone to hands-free. Checking his watch, he settled down for what would surely be a long conversation. "That's exactly what Willoughby is gonna deliver. It's high profile, high visibility. It's the Inner Harbor, for God's sake."

"All I'm saying is there's no margin for error. His people are difficult to work with at best. I've already changed the damn contract three times and we won't be on site for another eight weeks."

Jake heard the unmistakable edge to his cousin's voice. "What else? Don't hold back."

"I'm not trying to be an alarmist," Harry admitted. "But we can't afford a huge frontload of cash on this deal. Not when we've never worked for Willoughby before." His sigh was audible on the other end of the wire. "What it boils down to is this. We don't know how they pay. Willoughby can talk all he wants, but if he jerks us around on the pay applications, it could be disastrous." 

"You're thinking worst-case scenario. It won't come to that."

"We both know you're going to do what you want-"

Jake stiffened. "You know that's not true." The day was disintegrating rapidly. "I don't do a damn thing without discussing it with you and Jeff first," he argued.

"And then you go right ahead-" There was a long pause on the other end before his cousin spoke again. "Look, forget it. I don't want to get into this with you. I'm giving you a heads-up, that's all. It's my job to tell you what I think." 

Checking his mirror, he changed lanes. "Harry, you've caught me on a bad day. I didn't get any sleep last night and I'm mean as hell."  

"It must be catchy. Jenna just told me she was up all night, too."

Helplessly, his heartbeat accelerated at the news. He shook his head.
Dude, you're pathetic.
Even that admission couldn't stop him from trying to learn more about Jen's misery. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's not in the greatest mood, Jake. I didn't think it smart to provoke her."

He'd been useless enough for one day. Tired and irritable, he forcefully shoved Jenna from his head. "Harry, I'll be out of the office all day. I'm headed to Winchester to check the apartments and that warehouse job." Rubbing his gritty eyes, he forced himself to think. "How about we get together tonight? You, me and Jeff . . . review all the details on Willoughby. I want to hear your concerns." He paused, his cousin muttering agreement. "Square it with Jeff and call me this afternoon with a time and place."

Later, he planned his call to Jenna carefully. He should've already called in to let her know where he was. But since he'd waited this long, he might as well time it to his advantage. Like clockwork, she went to lunch every day around twelve-thirty. Sure, it was sort of wimpy to call when he knew she'd be gone, but, he still had no idea what to say. Since it would likely be awkward, why not postpone it as long as possible?

Releasing a relieved sigh when her voicemail picked up, he left a terse message and hung up. His thoughts drifted back over the conversation with Harry. It would be good to hash it out, he realized. They all had to be in agreement for this venture to be successful.

"I want this job," he admitted. Linc had never scored a deal this big. Jake knew his dad would be proud, but building a job locally was hard enough. It required effort and meticulous attention to detail. Working out of town was exponentially harder, with a pile of additional problems that didn't arise when you worked close to home base. Baltimore was three hours away, and they had to maneuver around D.C. traffic to get there. The Willoughby job could lead to more work than they ever dreamed of . . . or it could end up a logistical and financial nightmare. "We all need to be on the same page for this one."

***

"Is your Christmas shopping done?" Mona pushed her plate back. "I shouldn't have eaten that dessert." 

"I still need a few last minute things for the kids." Jenna had picked at her salad, not really hungry. Since Mona had proven to be such an easy woman to talk with, she had secretly harbored the hope of gleaning information about her enigmatic, eldest son. "I mentioned to Jake I was thinking of getting them a kitten, since they've been wanting a pet."    

"Pets teach responsibility." Mona carefully blotted her lips with her napkin before continuing. "What about your husband? What did you get him?"

Her fork frozen midway to her mouth, Jen groped for a suitable answer. Perhaps it was the easy familiarity she shared with Jake, but she'd noticed lately that she was growing careless. Inherent in forming a relationship with Mona was the potential risk of talking too much. What if she slipped? The information would find its way back to the Traynors. Maybe not to Jake, but certainly to his father or Jeff.

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