Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1) (20 page)

"Jen mentioned she may have met you before." Oblivious to the tension swirling between them, Jake kept up the conversational chit-chat.

"We have. A few times, I believe," she challenged, her voice cool.

"I'd remember a woman like you, Jenny."

"Let's take a look at the schedule, shall we?" A tiny frown creased Jake's brow, belying his businesslike tone. He was annoyed by Steve's brazen familiarity. In that moment, Jenna loved him even more.

Maintaining a neutral expression while Steve's leering face filled her brain, her heart began pounding with fury. Jen realized she'd been wrong about one thing. She
hadn't
gotten over what Baldwin had done to her. She hated him more now than she had six months earlier. No longer afraid of facing him, she was actually going to enjoy making the bastard pay.  

Chapter 12

Leaning back against the bar the next evening, Jake watched Jenna float through the crowded lobby. She'd held up her end of the bargain– charming them all long before nine o'clock. Unable to tear his gaze from her long, graceful legs, he loosened his tie. As she finessed her way to the bank of elevators, her amazing black dress seemed to float and cling at the same time.

At least the night was nearly over. He should be thankful they'd be returning home a day early. In less than forty-eight hours, he'd reached a breaking point– unable to even look at Jen without experiencing an almost desperate need to touch her.

As a result, he'd grown increasingly short-tempered. And it was ticking her off. Hell– with Jen, one raised eyebrow spoke volumes. And she'd been glaring at him all evening. But, what the hell was he supposed to do? She'd taken up residence in his head, and he'd run out of ways to fight it. Her scent. The sound of her voice. Her smile.

He was starting to believe he'd spend the rest of his life in this perpetual state of frustrated misery. Until they could talk. Until he could finally confess how he felt about her . . . they remained only friends. She was off-limits. What made his stomach knot with sickness was the growing fear she wouldn't feel the same. Because for him– it wasn't just attraction. And it wasn't just sex.

And it never had been.

He was pathetically, hopelessly in love with the one woman he might never be able to have. Tossing back a finger of scotch Jake knew he shouldn't be drinking, he felt it burn all the way down.

If Jen didn't want him– he didn't want to contemplate how he would face it. Loving her, but never having her. Never having Alex for a son. And Megan. Hell, he was batting a thousand tonight.

The lounge was still packed. Glancing down the bar, he discovered three sets of female eyes watching him with undisguised interest. With very little effort, he could be picked up tonight. He could exercise the pent-up longing he'd nursed for months. He could try, for just one night, not to think about Jen before falling asleep. For one night, he could lose himself in the arms of a woman– any woman. And maybe, just maybe, he would wake in the morning and feel better.

Instead, he set his glass on the bar, an overwhelming sense of fatigue washing over him. The thought of faking it through ten minutes of banter with some overly-eager woman was too much to contemplate. The thought of drowning himself in the cloying scent of someone who wasn't Jenna Stone made his stomach tighten with repugnance.

It was time for bed. Alone.

Pushing off the bar, Jake started across the lobby, frowning when he saw the elevator doors close with Jen inside. Her coppery hair was unmistakable. As was the man standing way too close . . . with his damned arm looped over her shoulder.

Baldwin. He sucked in a breath.

What the hell were they doing together? And how had Steve managed to corner her so fast? Swearing, he quickened his pace across the marble foyer. Men had been hitting on her since they'd arrived. In every meeting, for God's sake. No matter how she dressed, no matter where she sat in the room, Jen was noticed. She wore a damned wedding band and still, the bastards approached her.

Baldwin had been the worst offender, he admitted. Jenna seemed to be handling his remarks . . . but he knew she was disgusted. She was keeping her anger under tight rein. And knowing she did it on his behalf made him feel worse. Because of his interest in this project, Jen was forced to play the role of dutiful assistant. The more obnoxious Steve became, the more edgy Jake grew . . . and the more short-tempered he became with Jen.

He knew it was ridiculous to blame her for Baldwin's insufferable interest, but it bothered him that Jen hadn't complained. Was it possible she enjoyed the attention? In the last day, he'd begun having serious doubts about Baldwin. Jake wasn't sure he'd be able to make it through the project without beating his frat brother senseless.

Giving the elevator button a vicious push, he glanced at the illuminated numbers. Every elevator was in use, tied up somewhere above the eighth floor. Jen's elevator was still perched on the tenth– her floor. If Steve tried anything with her, Jake would not be responsible for his actions.

Baldwin had been notorious in college . . . and from what little he'd seen in the bar last night, his buddy hadn't changed a bit. Steve had pestered women with his lewd comments until an equally desperate blonde had finally accompanied him back to his room. Jake had been relieved. At least he hadn't been forced to watch anymore.

Punching the button one last time, he turned for the stairs. Damned if he would let Steve get anywhere near Jenna. Pure adrenaline pushed him up the first seven floors at a run. By the eighth, it was annoyance that guided him. How could she have been so careless– to let herself get cornered by Baldwin? The last two floors were fueled by high octane fury. Bursting through the door to her hall, Jake knew he shouldn't go to her room. Not the way he was feeling. The rational part of his brain informed him to stop– insisted he continue down the hall to his own room until he could cool down. He was in no shape to talk to her. But, by the time he arrived at her door, rationality had taken a backseat to seething, gut-shredding jealousy.

None of it could stop him from pounding on her door. And God help him if he found Baldwin in there with her.

Dragging agitated fingers through his hair, he released several deep breaths, fighting to calm his anger. His heart was thundering in his chest. He had no business checking up on her. No right at all. But when her fingers fumbled with the chain, his entire body tensed.    

"Jake– what's the matter? Is something wrong?"

He noticed she only opened the door enough to poke her face out into the hallway. He also noticed Jen seemed flustered . . . her cheeks pink with exertion. . . her hair already tumbling down around her shoulders.

"Can I come in for a minute?" Taking another deep breath, Jake released it slowly. See? He could still sound rational. Not the least bit out of control. A chokehold on his jealousy, he sounded damned civil.

"I-I'm already-" Chewing her bottom lip, Jenna appeared to contemplate his request. "Can you hang on a minute? I was sort of. . . I'm half-dressed." 

His gaze dropping to her feet, he realized she'd already kicked off her heels. Jeez– what if she was hiding Baldwin in there? What if she really
was
cheating on her husband? He felt the chokehold slip a notch. "It's important. I'll wait."

Jen's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to meet you downstairs?"

And give Baldwin a chance to escape? Hell, no. "Here is fine. I only need a few minutes."   

To her credit, it took only two minutes before she pulled the door open and allowed him entry. But it had felt like ten, Jake admitted when he brushed past her and entered the room. His gaze took in the dim lighting, his eyes registered the slightly mussed king-sized bed and the flickering television, the volume turned down low. The curtains were still open, the harbor lights reflected in the glass. He smelled the enticing blend of her perfume and the sweet scent of tea brewing in the rumbling pot on the counter.

"Is s-something wrong? Did I forget something for tomorrow?"

Turning back, he finally looked at her for the first time since she'd opened the door. Jenna was standing near the bathroom with one hand clutching her dress at the nape of her neck. Her hair was partially unraveled and hung loose around her shoulders. His gut clenched over the latent aura of slow burn sexuality shimmering around her. Only her eyes didn't fit the fantasy. They were enormous and worried.

"What's wrong with your dress?" If Baldwin touched her-

"I-it's nothing. I had it unfastened and it's– sort of hard to re-hook that quickly."

He brushed past her to enter the bathroom, still unable to believe she was truly alone.

"Are you looking for something? Perhaps if you'd tell me what you need, this might go a lot faster."

The frayed edge to her voice suggested annoyance with his behavior. Hell, she had a right to be angry. Half an hour earlier, she'd claimed to have a headache, and here he was . . . delaying her from falling into bed. But Jake wasn't feeling reasonable. He wasn't thinking logically. If the truth were known, he wasn't thinking at all.

"Where's Baldwin? I saw him come up here with you." Turning, he saw the unmistakable flash of guilt in her expression. She
had
been with him. Maybe the rendezvous had been voluntary on her part. Fuck. His body went rigid with anger. "Where is he? Am I keeping you from meeting him? Maybe I should wait around and see if he shows up."

The first spark in her eyes was fear, but, before he had time to regret his words, the fear in her expression turned swiftly to anger.

"What are you– my keeper?" Stalking to the door, she jerked it open. "To think I was concerned. I-I thought you were sick. I thought something awful had h-happened back home. Lord, I was terrified." Jenna motioned for him to go, the other hand still clutching the fabric at her neck. "What the hell is wrong with you? You b-barely speak to me. Why did you bring me with you?"

"I'm not finished." Jake strode to the door and closed it. "What was so important that you needed to talk with Baldwin? Alone?" Jen averted her eyes in confusion. He'd hit a nerve. The truth sucker-punched him. "He's acted like a complete ass since the moment he laid eyes on you."

"He's going to be your partner," she reminded, her voice nearly a whisper. "I
have
to tolerate his behavior."

Something
was going on between them. Something that had nothing to do with him. "Why would you put yourself at risk? Why didn't you tell me? I would have arranged a meeting." Something that might make him look and feel like a colossal fool. What the hell was she doing with Baldwin?

Jen swallowed hard. "Look, I tried to tell you. Last week when I learned Steve was on the project– I t-tried to suggest that I knew . . . things. . . about him. But he's your friend-"

His jealousy was like acid in his knotted stomach. "He's not
that
good a friend." His insinuation made her wince. And he hated himself even more.

Her eyes defiant, Jen didn't back down. "You haven't wanted to hear anything bad about this project. So– I thought I'd try to handle him on my own."

"Handle him? Handle him how?" Anger. Betrayal. Frustration. Churning inside him like a vortex. He tugged her back into the room. "What the hell were you planning to do . . .
sleep
with him?" When she jerked her hand free from his, he was too far gone to care.

"Damn you– I'm trying to
help
." Eyes flashing with fury, Jen advanced on him. "Baldwin is dirty. He's banking on your eagerness to break into this market.
That's
why he picked you," she accused, her voice hoarse with worry. "Haven't you wondered why you're here? Why no local contractor got this job?" Disgusted, she shook her head. "He's
using
you– and Specialty will take the hit. Baldwin is playing you."

"How? How do you know this?" Visions of Jenna and Baldwin still held him in their grip. But the jealous anger was corroding his ability to focus.

Hesitating, she glanced away. "I-I . . . just know. Why can't you trust me?"

"Jen– how can I trust you when you're withholding information?"

Her guilt-laden eyes acknowledged the truth in his words. "I'm on your side, remember? I may not have as much at s-stake as you, but I-I'm offering my help-"

"Honey, your assets have been obvious since day one." His sarcastic smile held all the frustrated torment he'd carried for months. "But I sure as hell don't need you prostituting them on my behalf. At least, not yet."

Her sharp whimper of pain made him jerk back. It was the sound a puppy made. A puppy who'd just been stepped on. Stunned by the harshness of his words, he staggered back. Jesus– what had he done? Running a hand down his face, he was too afraid to look at Jen for fear of what he would find.

"So, that's what you really think of m-me? That's all I am to you, too." She stiffened with pride, despite the blow he'd just inflicted. Jake's heart plummeted when he risked a glance at her. Brilliant with unshed tears, her devastated eyes offered a sharp contrast to her blood-drained face.

He'd finally done it. He'd deliberately hurt her, taking all his frustration, all the ragged need churning inside him– and he'd knocked her flat. For the sole reason that he couldn't have her. He couldn't have her, so he was pushing her away. He would systematically destroy their relationship because it couldn't be the relationship
he
wanted.

And when he was finished, she would hate him.

"Jen . . . God, Jenna . . . no. I don't think–  I'm sorry." Fighting the urge to pull her in his arms, he stood, shaking . . . unsure what to do. "That was terribly cruel and completely unfair."

She shook her head, as though she hadn't heard him. "I-I thought you were different. I thought I'd finally proven-"

A tremor of fear shot through him when she met his gaze. Her sorrow-drenched eyes lanced his soul, staring as though she didn't even see him. An icy sensation began spreading in his chest. He'd crossed the line, and in a flash of clarity, Jake knew it would be too late for apologies. It was too late to take back the jealous, bitter accusations. He'd hurt her too badly. And she would leave him.