He's All That. Debbi Rawlins
wallow in self-pity for a week. Maybe even a month. I wish you all could see him. I kid you not when I say he’s to die for.
I know you all are busy, but I need to move fast (I have an appointment calendar that won’t quit) and I’m still floundering a little. Any thoughts?
Wish me luck.
Angel
Tori had just pressed Send when she heard a light knock at her door. Quickly she logged off and closed her computer.
“Victoria? Are you still awake?”
She almost answered her mother but thought better of it and slowly slid beneath the covers. Duty would call soon enough. For now she’d plan her attack and dream about Jake.
“HERE SHE COMES.”
Jake used his shirtsleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow and then looked to see what Hector was talking about.
Holding a glass in each hand, Victoria came down the slope from the house. She had on white shorts and a pink shirt. Her legs sure had gotten long in the past few years.
Hector slicked his hair back and gave a low appreciative whistle. Not loud enough for her to hear. Just loud enough to annoy Jake.
He laid the shovel he’d been using against the flagstone retaining wall and pulled off his gloves. “Get the fertilizer out of the truck, will you?”
“Now?” Hector shot him a peeved look.
“Now.”
The other man sighed, laid down his shovel and muttered something under his breath as he shot Victoria a parting look before heading for the truck parked a good hundred yards away.
As she got closer, Jake had to force his gaze away from her breasts, the way they bounced with each step and strained against the stretchy fabric. Normally he was a leg man, had a real weakness for slim ankles. But the closer she got, the more he realized there wasn’t much about Victoria that didn’t interest him.
“Hi,” she said, smiling. “Jake, right?”
He nodded, curious as hell. What could she possibly want?
“Of course you’ve changed. And we’ve never really formally met…”
“I know who you are, Victoria.”
“Tori.” Her almond-shaped hazel eyes met his. She had one of those sultry looks that could distract a man if he weren’t careful. “That’s what my friends call me. Oh, here.”
He took the lemonade she offered, and decided not to point out that they weren’t friends. “Thanks.”
She tilted her head to the side, her eyes holding his captive. “I think this is the first time we’ve talked, isn’t it?”
He nodded, and took a long cool sip as he waited her out.
She moistened her lips, darted a look toward Hector. “How’s your dad? I haven’t seen him since I’ve been back.”
“He’s laid up with a bad back.”
“Sorry to hear about that.” She smiled. “At least he has you helping him.”
“Right.” He drained his lemonade just as Hector got back and dropped the bag of fertilizer near Jake’s boots.
“For me?” he asked Tori, glancing at the glass she held and giving her one of his lady-killer grins.
She handed him the drink. “I’m Tori.”
“Hector.”
She smiled politely and then turned back to Jake. “I know you’re busy right now. I thought maybe we could meet for a drink later.”
Totally floored, he stood there, unable to think of a damn thing to say.
Uncertainty flickered in her face and then she gave a throaty laugh. “Unless you have a wife and a dozen kids waiting for you at home.”
Hector laughed. “Jake?”
He gave his friend a warning look. Bad enough she’d taken him by surprise. He didn’t need any commentary from Hector. “You can spread the fertilizer now. Start with the pink roses along the path to the pool.”
“Sure, boss.” Hector gave Tori a parting look before setting the glass aside and heaving the bag of fertilizer over his shoulder.
Jake waited until he was out of earshot and asked, “What time?”
“I’m flexible. Whenever you’re done here?”
He looked at his watch. “In about three hours.”
“Great.” Her lips curved in a sexy smile that made him second-guess his decision. Getting mixed up with a Whitford was begging for trouble.
“Where?”
She glanced toward the house, pristine white and stately against all the lush green oak and magnolia trees. “How about Mustang Sally’s? I assume the place is still there.”
Her suggestion surprised him. The bar wasn’t a place he figured she even knew about much less patronized. And then he got it. She didn’t want to be seen with him by anyone she knew.
Amazingly he didn’t feel the old anger he would have as a kid. The idea pissed him off but it amused him, too. Hell, he wasn’t the one looking for trouble. She was.
TORI GOT TO THE BAR a little early. She sat in the parking lot, listening to a classical CD, her sporty BMW lost in the myriad of huge pickup trucks that filled the lot. She hoped the bar wasn’t too noisy so that they could at least talk. Or maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe she should hang on to the fantasy of him she’d created in her mind. The one where he obeyed her every command and wanted nothing in return. Right. She’d been surprised enough to discover that his eyes were brown and not blue. Not just brown, actually, but an incredible whiskey-brown, brimming with an intensity that made her fantasies feel tame.
Summers spent gazing out her window, waiting for a glimpse of him, had spawned some juicy stories in her head. Like the time she’d imagined that he climbed the trellis outside her bedroom window and sneaked into her bed. What he’d actually done to her was a little fuzzy at the time since she’d only been about fourteen and rather sheltered, but she remembered he’d been gentle yet demanding, and the coaxing way he’d kissed her, touched her breasts…
Damn, but she wished she’d kept a journal. It would be fun to read now but she’d been too chicken to produce any evidence her mother could find.
A knock on her car window made her jump. She looked into Jake’s sexy brown eyes, and then turned the key in the ignition, shutting off the CD and air-conditioning. She grabbed her purse and opened the door. He’d straightened and stepped back, the fly of his faded jeans hitting her eye-level. It looked like that particular fantasy wasn’t far off base.
She got out and followed him across the parking lot and into the bar. Most of the tables were already taken, and all the places at the bar.
“Let’s try back here,” Jake said and led the way past a pair of crowded pool tables and a couple arguing over a game of darts.
In the far corner, it looked as if someone had recently abandoned a table, judging by the empty bottle of beer and the two dollar bills left behind.
“How about over there?” she asked, and moved to claim it before getting an answer.
It was perfect—as far away from the country and western music and the dart players’ cursing as they could get. They sat across from one another and a waitress promptly appeared to claim her tip.
She removed the empty bottle, swiped a cursory rag across the top of the table. “What can I get y’all?”
“What have you got on tap?” Tori asked and caught the surprised look Jake gave her.
The waitress