Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1) (7 page)

Pausing on the top step, she nodded and opened the door. "Come inside after. You'll need to wash up. If Alex wasn't awake before all this commotion, he will be soon."

***

What
was
he doing here? Jake searched for the answer to that question while he hung the ladder on the row of pegs in the shed. And why were his hands still shaking in reaction to finding his assistant swinging from the gutter? It was funny, he admitted, now that she was safe. Why then, was he so angry?

Taking his time in the shed, he mulled the issue. At least he knew the answer to that one. "Where's her damn husband?" Why the hell was she climbing ladders while her son was in the house sleeping off a head injury? And where was Rick when he should have been at the hospital?

Jake made it a rule never to delve into the personal lives of his employees. While he cared about his employees, he didn't necessarily want to know their problems. Several awkward  experiences had taught him that becoming involved in personal issues was futile. He couldn't solve the problem for them, and too often, the employee was unwilling to take action to fix it. He hadn't wanted to find himself in the position of judging someone based on knowledge that had nothing to do with job performance.

"Jen isn't your business." But dammit, she was a smart, beautiful woman. She loved her kids to death. Why was she always alone? "Why is she on the roof cleaning her damn gutters?"

He wasn't blind. Alex had latched onto him at the hospital like an eager puppy, his obvious pleasure at male company speaking volumes about what the little guy wasn't getting from his dad. He was honest enough to admit he'd pumped Alex for information. What he didn't want to analyze was
why
. Jenna was his assistant. His
married
assistant. There could never be anything more.

Alex had been vague when asked about his father. And the answers he'd received only deepened his suspicions. They'd been playing with his cars on the hospital bed . . . Jake driving them up the handrails while Alex supplied the engine noise and crash sounds. He smiled over the memory. Until he remembered what Al had said out of the blue.

"Did your daddy yell at you a lot?"

Aware of the caution flag on the track, Jake proceeded carefully. "No, my dad is a very nice man. He yelled sometimes . . . if my brother and I did something wrong."

Alex raised serious eyes to his. "Like if you broke somethin'?"

He nodded. "One time we threw a football in the living room and smashed my mother's vase."

His nose wrinkled up. "Who cares about that?"

Jake laughed. "It was full of water and flowers."

"So, you made a big mess?"

"Yeah, Sport. We had to clean it all up. And we could never play football inside again. My dad made us apologize to our mom." Jake smiled at the memory. "And then it was okay."

"My daddy said Mommy's stupid. He called her bad words." Alex drove a car over the covers, crashing it between his knees. "Then she cried." He paused to make a screeching crash sound as a shiny police cruiser chased a dump truck down the length of the bed. "I think Mommy's smart. She takes good care of us . . ."

His gut hollowed out, the truth struck Jake like a blind-side punch. The bastard. Yet, the little guy's words didn't surprise him.
He knew
. He'd suspected something was off . . . Something that just didn't add up. Jen was so damned cautious. So closed off from everyone. Yet, one of the most capable women he'd ever met. "Your mom . . . is one of the smartest ladies I know." Despite knowing he was entering dangerous territory, Jake didn't care. "You should
always
be respectful of ladies, Sport."

"You mean be nice to them?"

"Yeah– good guys are polite. They don't say bad words to girls." He smiled over Alex's rapt attention. "And you should never say mean things to them."

"Even Megan?" His eyes had been aghast.

Despite his uneasiness, he'd laughed. "Especially your sister." 

Later, when he'd asked whether Al missed his dad since he was gone all the time, the little boy's answer had saddened him.

"I used to miss him a lot. But . . . it's been a long time since I seen him."

He'd turned to Jake, with those serious, blue eyes that were so like Jen's, his voice matter of fact. "Sometimes I forget– like what he looks like. I mean, I got's a picture of him. But, sometimes I get mad. And then I don't look at it for awhile." 

Alex' gaze was troubled as he turned away, almost as though he were ashamed. "Meggie 'members him more. I sorta feel bad . . . cuz I don't think about him. And I worry that Mommy will be mad at me. What would you do, Jake?"        

What would you do, Jake?
Hell if he knew. He'd been twenty-two when his parents' divorce was final. He'd felt betrayed. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like at age six. Why would Jen stick it out with a guy like Rick when she deserved so much more? Someone who would appreciate her. Someone who would realize he'd hit the jackpot finding her and the kids.

A stiff breeze blew the shed door open. It thumped against the wall, dispelling Jake's increasingly uncomfortable thoughts. Shivering in his wet clothes, he was grateful for the interruption. Leaving the shed, he secured the door before turning toward the house.

"I need to leave." Turning up the collar on his cold, wet jacket, he waved to Jen through the kitchen window, signaling his departure. For the first time, Jake experienced a moment of uncertainty. Walking into that cozy house, into the enveloping warmth he knew resided there, would be a colossal mistake. There wasn't any room in their relationship for gray areas. He had no business wondering about Jen– questioning her choices. Her private life had to remain separate. Quickening his pace to his truck, he jerked open the door. Wincing when his wet clothes hit the seat, he resolutely kept his gaze away from the glowing invitation of her house. When he pulled away from the curb, he made sure not to look back.

***

Alex had completely recovered by the end of the weekend. Jen was grateful to slide behind her desk Monday morning. It would be good to refocus on work. She'd spent too much time over the weekend wondering about her enigmatic boss and how much he'd done for her. It had only half-surprised her when a work crew appeared Saturday morning to replace the gutters on the front of the house. Refusing any form of payment, she'd been forced to be content feeding them lunch.

Acts of kindness, she'd learned, were typical of Jake. Over pizza and brownies with the field crew he'd sent, she learned her boss helped employees all the time. It was done quickly and quietly, with no outward acknowledgment from him.

Jen watched for him all morning, but when he finally appeared around eleven, he slipped into his office and closed the door. Glancing at the closed door, she chewed her lip in frustration. Her 'thank you' would have to wait.        

An hour later, her growling stomach forced her to ponder lunch. She was reaching for her purse when a quiet voice caused her to glance up.

"Excuse me . . . are you Jenna? Mary said you were down this way."

"I am. How can I help you, ma'am?"

The older woman considered the question for a long moment before answering. "I was looking for my son, Jackson. I was in the neighborhood and thought he might want to have lunch. Is he in?"

"You're Mrs. Traynor?" Forgetting her purse, Jen stood to greet her. "I'm honored to meet you. I've met Mr. Traynor and he is quite charming." 

"Please call me Mona." 

Despite the warm smile Mrs. Traynor offered, Jen read the faint anxiety in the older woman's eyes and wondered at the source. She recognized many of Jake's features in the time-worn face, a face that was still quite stunning in middle age. Jake would still be sexy when he was sixty, she concluded. Not that she'd had much doubt about it.

Shaking off her wildly inappropriate thoughts, she returned to reality. "I was about to step out for lunch myself. Jake's been locked up in his office since he arrived." As she spoke, Jen drifted into the hallway. "I'll let him know you're here."     

Tapping lightly on the door, she waited a moment before entering and shut the door behind her. Jake was on the phone, but motioned her to have a seat. It didn't take long for him to finish.

"What's up?"

"A couple things." His impatient tone suggested she be quick about it. Mentally shrugging her shoulders, she plunged ahead. "First, I haven't had the opportunity to thank you for your help last week with Alex. I can't tell you how much-"

"Jen, I already told you, it wasn't any trouble." Absently running his fingers through his hair, he discovered a pencil tucked behind his ear. Frowning, he tossed it on his drafting table. "What's next?"

"Okay– second is to thank you for the gutters. It certainly wasn't your fault they collapsed, but I had to let you know how thoughtful it was." 

If Jen thought he was impatient when she first came through the door, she now had confirmation she was seriously pushing her luck. His intimidating stare lasered in on her. The longer she spoke, the more distant Jake appeared to grow. Her cheeks warming, she knew she was looking flustered. "Okay. No more 'thank you's'."

"Good." He picked up the receiver, intent on making a call. "Is that it?"

"I. . . no! Your mom is here and would like to take you to lunch." Grateful to rise from her seat, she was eager to create some distance as she headed for the door. "Shall I send her in?"

"No. Tell her I'm unavailable and I'll catch up with her tonight."

Her gasp of surprise must have been audible, because Jake's gaze left the phone to lock with hers. "Is that a problem?"

"Uh. . . no. Of course not. I-I'll tell her for you." Not once since she'd been at Specialty had he dismissed someone as quickly as he had just now. If she hadn't known better, she would have guessed he was angry. Making a beeline for the door, she was relieved to escape his surly mood. Without looking back, she spoke over her shoulder. "I'm going to lunch. I'll be back in an hour."

She hesitated a moment, waiting for an acknowledgment that never came. All praise of his generous, thoughtful side were shelved. Jake's best qualities were obviously going to remain well hidden from the world today. Grateful for some distance, she returned to her office. What in the world would she tell his mother? 'Excuse me ma'am, but your son is being a real bastard today'. The truth wouldn't go over well.   

"Mrs. Traynor? I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Jake's on a long distance call," she lied. "He said he'll be tied up for some time. He didn't want to make you wait."

"I see."

"But– he said he'll call you tonight." Jen felt compelled to tack on the wishful directive to the disappointed woman. Hurt visible in her eyes, she knew Mona Traynor was devastated.

"Next time I'll make an appointment." She hesitated. "It's my fault. I know he's busy." Rising from the chair, she retrieved her overcoat. "It was nice to meet you, dear."

"It was nice meeting you too, Mona." She watched helplessly as the regal woman gathered up her purse and moved toward the door. Stepping into the hallway, Mona turned to glance back at her.

"Thanks for trying, dear. Jackson is a wonderful man, but sometimes he can be a real jackass." She chuckled when Jen's mouth dropped open. "I'm sorry. That wasn't very ladylike, was it?"

"You. . .you read my mind," she confessed with a smile. "Was it that obvious?"

"You seemed a bit flustered when you came out. I've seen that look before. . . I've
felt
that look before," Mona corrected as she put on her gloves.

"Mrs. Traynor? Would you care to have lunch with me?" Amazed by her own boldness, the words blurted from her mouth. But the surprised look of pleasure on Mona's face confirmed it was the right thing to do.

"Why, I'd love to have your company."

"It's a date then. Give me a minute to get my coat and I'll see you in the lobby."

***

Lunch with Mona Traynor was a small sacrifice to help the older woman feel better. What Jen hadn't counted on was enjoying it immensely. Though she was dignified and polite on the surface, there was no pretense. Mona was warm and funny and surprisingly down-to-earth. Jen lost track of time listening to stories about her years with Linc and the boys. What shone through each memory was a sharp sense of humor and an unwavering devotion to her family.

"Do you enjoy working with my sons?" Mona set her spoon in the saucer after stirring her second cup of Earl Grey. "I think I should inform you that Jefferson's in love with you."

Jen nearly choked on her tea. Swallowing hard, she began coughing. "What?"

"Shall I thump you on the back, dear?"

"N-no. I'm fine."

"Jeff stops by at least once a week and fills my head with visions of Jenna Stone."

Poor Jeff. He was so sweet and easygoing. She'd grown to like him very much. Knowing he was fond of her, she'd done her best to dissuade him politely. She kept their conversations light and impersonal and was always careful to make sure they went to lunch in groups.

She knew instinctively that he would never act upon his interest. In his eyes she was married, and that was it. Still, she'd learned from cold, hard experience that perception was easily interpreted as truth. And the battle from rumor back to reality was a long, lonely road she wanted no part of.