Carol Finch – Mr. Predictable: Mr. Predictable / Too Many Cooks (страница 11)

“I walked in on her and lover-boy at her apartment one night when I wasn’t expected. By the time Shelly got through twisting the incident around, she made it sound like it was all my fault she looked elsewhere for affection and attention. That’s when I figured out that I wasn’t too good at relationships that didn’t involve dependence from the party of the second part. The humiliating rejection stuck like a dart through the heart and deflated my male pride. Thankfully, I was smart enough not to make the mistake again. Besides, I had my sisters to raise and my business to run. I didn’t have time or the inclination for anything else.”

So he understood what it was like to be jilted and to have people depending on him. They had more in common than she first thought. “And since that time it’s been you and your sisters against the world, until they married.”

Jake nodded his raven-black head. “Pretty much. But at least Kim and Lisa turned out all right. My parents would be proud of them. My folks were devoted to each other and to us kids. It only seemed natural for me to follow the example of keeping the family united and strong.”

“But then, you got yourself stuck in a monotonous rut,” she commented gently. “It was your loyal and devoted sisters who came to your rescue.”

“They bound me over to you, the ungrateful little brats,” he muttered sourly. “Turncoats, is what they are. To think of all I’ve done for them!”

“They obviously care deeply or they wouldn’t have made these arrangements,” Moriah assured him.

“Yeah, so here I am, pussyfooting around at the resort, wondering if any work will get done at the shop during the next two weeks, pacing the floorboards with nothing to do but wait for you to show up and lecture me on the error of my robotlike ways.”

“But you’re making headway,” she encouraged him. “Twenty minutes ago you had a stranglehold on the reins. Now you’re relaxed. That’s progress. All we have to do is get you to let it all hang loose.”

“In this underwear? Are you kidding?”

Moriah snickered. “See there? You can even joke around and laugh at yourself. Yesterday that was an impossibility. You were too uptight and angry to do anything except bite my head off. Our next hurdle is to get you to do something impulsive, something totally unplanned, unexpected and off schedule.”

“Hey, I can be impulsive if I feel like it,” he said, affronted.

“Couldn’t prove it by me, Mr. Predictable,” she teased him. “When was the last time you hauled off and did something totally out of character?”

He frowned pensively.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Don’t rush me. I’m thinking.”

“That’s your problem. You do too much thinking and planning and moving along according to routine,” she told him.

He swiveled his head around to focus directly on her. “You want impulsive, do you?”

“Yeah, I do. Climb out of your rut for once in your life, Jake,” she encouraged him. “It’s okay to make time for yourself. Just go for it. Kick up your heels once in a while. Do something different. Do something impetuous, if only to prove to yourself that you can.”

“Fine. You want extemporaneous and impromptu? You’ve got it.”

He leaned over to snatch Moriah off the saddle and planted her on his lap—facing him, her legs straddling his hips. He bent his head and kissed her. It wasn’t just a playful little peck on the cheek, either. It was a hot, steamy, burn-off-your-lips kind of kiss that demanded a response—whether you meant to give one or not.

Moriah hadn’t planned on wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. She hadn’t meant to let him invade her mouth with a second plundering kiss that stole the breath clean out of her lungs. She didn’t expect him to clamp his hands around her rump and haul her against the hard evidence of his arousal. She didn’t expect to feel the blaze of desire frying her alive. But there they were, climbing all over each other on top of Ol’ Sally who didn’t so much as twitch her ears in objection.

The mare stood there docilely while Jake and Moriah got it on like a couple of hormone-plagued teenagers going at it in the back seat of a car. It was the damnedest thing Jake had ever experienced in his life. One minute Moriah was daring him to be impulsive, and poof! He dragged her to him and kissed her like a starving man devouring a feast. And worse, Jake couldn’t seem to get enough of the taste and scent of her. Every time he came up for air he found himself craving more. He stared at her kiss-swollen lips—and she stared at his—and they came together again like fire and dynamite.

That long dry spell must’ve caught up with him, because he was so hot and bothered in the time it took to blink that he felt the insane urge to peel off his clothes and follow this wild impulse to its natural conclusion.

The feel of her full breasts mashed against his chest, the feel of her parted thighs resting on his own drove him right out of his mind. Mercy! He didn’t need a caffeine zing when these sizzling sensations were bouncing through his veins like pinballs. Desire definitely had a stronger kick than coffee and chocolate combined.

His self-control hit the skids and his hands developed a will of their own. They mapped the full swells of her breasts, feeling her nipples harden against his prowling fingertips. Her nails raked over his back as he skimmed her ribs, measured the trim indentation of her waist and scanned the flare of her hips with his hands. Damn, she felt as if she were made to fit into his hands, fit against his aching male body.

Light-headed from panting for breath, Jake experienced the sensation that he was tumbling off balance. Too late, he realized he and Moriah truly were off balance. Ol’ Sally had decided to step down the steep incline to have herself a drink at the river. When she lowered her head to slurp water Moriah and Jake were left with nothing to hold on to except each other. They somersaulted pell-mell over Sally’s downcast neck and landed with a splat—their arms and legs tangled up worse than a pretzel.

Jake floundered upright, after swallowing a couple of gallons of water. He burst to the surface like a spouting whale, then glanced wildly around, trying to locate Moriah. She surfaced three feet away from him. Her long hair was plastered against the sides of her head and her eyes were as wide as serving platters. Sputtering, she struggled to catch her breath.

Gape-mouthed, she stared at him and he stared back, his jaw sagging on its hinges. She appeared astounded—as he was—by kisses and caresses that carried the impact of a nuclear blast.

He should say something, but his tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth and his waterlogged brain had short-circuited. He wasn’t sure what to expect from Moriah. Anger and indignation, probably. After all, he hadn’t exactly asked permission to kiss her breathless and put his hands all over her. Jeez, he couldn’t believe he’d done that! What the hell happened to his sense of decency?

“Hey, you said do something impulsive,” he said before she could jump down his throat. “Besides, your flower garden ensemble needed watering.”

Boy, that was totally lame, he thought with an inward groan. He expected her to rear back and slap him—it was what he deserved. Or at the very least, chew him out royally. Most women he knew would’ve been furious about getting their hair and makeup ruined by a dunking in the river.

“Well,” she said eventually, “I did ask for impulsive, but that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Next time I’ll be more specific.”

When Moriah took an impromptu swim he decided to join her. For sure, he needed to cool his heels—and other parts of his body that had overheated. He wondered if she was suffering the same need to cool off and put some time and emotional distance between that explosive kiss that they had just experienced.

Jake was more than a little relieved that Moriah chose to pretend the kiss didn’t happen, because that was fine by him. She piled on her horse and started yakkety-yakking about ways to reduce stress so his life would become more well-rounded and personally fulfilling. Jake tried to pay attention, he really did, but the way her wet clothes clung to her voluptuous body like a coat of paint was one hell of a distraction.

MORIAH PULLED the cake from the oven, set it aside to cool, and then rifled through her cabinets for vanilla and a sack of powdered sugar. She had decided to make Jake’s birthday an event that would bring her guests and staff together for a party in the lobby. The occasion would serve two purposes—celebrating Jake’s birthday in a casual setting and creating time for informal conversation. There were no power lunches or business conferences at Triple R, and Moriah wanted her guests to function in laid-back settings. They needed to carry on conversations unrelated to business. One of their biggest problems was learning to broaden their focus of interests.

Plus, this shindig would ensure Moriah wouldn’t be alone with Jake. Having discovered how wildly responsive she was to him had thrown her for a loop. After that scorching kiss, she’d needed a swim to get herself in hand. She’d told herself not to get involved with Jake. Yet, she’d stepped over the line—did a hundred-yard dash over it was more accurate! But damn, that man knew how to kiss and leave a woman burning—inside and out!