Smart Girls Think Twice Page 14

  “With one of her self-defense moves?” Oliver asked.

  Jake nodded. “Yeah, in a manner of speaking.”

  “She beat you up?”

  “No.” Now Jake was the one frowning. Glaring was really closer to the truth. “What’s with all the questions?”

  “Em is a close friend of mine and I care about her,” Oliver said defensively.

  “Yeah,” Jake mocked him. “You care so much about her you hid behind her when you thought I was going to come after you.”

  “I did not!”

  Jake gave him a narrowed eye stare that sent Oliver scurrying back behind Emma, saying,

  “Okay, so what if I did? That doesn’t mean I don’t care about her.” Oliver awkwardly patted Emma’s shoulder. “We’re good buddies.”

  “Some buddy who doesn’t defend her.”

  “Em doesn’t need me to defend her, but I could if she needed me to. I could come up with some intellectual plan.”

  “Right,” Jake scoffed. “Like that would work.”

  “As you can see, I’m fine, Jake,” Emma said.

  “What I see is a wimpy guy hiding behind you for protection.”

  “Because you’re deliberately trying to intimidate him. Why is that?” she demanded.

  Yeah, Jake wondered to himself. Why was that? It’s not like he should feel at all threatened by this nerdy guy. So he was her old boyfriend’s brother. So what? No big deal. Why did he care if Emma had a male roommate?

  Because he’d come over hoping to continue what they’d started last night in the back of his Jeep and finding Oliver here cramped his style. Yeah, that had to be it. Because Jake didn’t get jealous.

  He’d never had reason to. Bodacious babes chased after him all the time. He hooked up with them with no strings attached. They provided sex. Whenever he had an itch, they scratched it.

  But Emma was different. He cared about what she thought, what she felt, what she wanted, what she needed. Not that he’d been an uncaring lover in the past. But every experience with Emma was different—from their first kiss to the awed look on her face last night in the storm.

  She awoke something deep within him. He didn’t know what it was and frankly didn’t want to examine it too closely. Inner reflection had never been his thing. He just knew Emma took him to another level and that was enough for him to want more.

  He knew she wanted more too. So why wasn’t she booting Oliver out?

  “So, Oliver, when are you leaving?”

  “He just got here.” Emma folded her arms across her chest, which lifted her breasts.

  Jake was sure she wasn’t trying to draw his attention to her breasts, but that was what happened.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra beneath that T-shirt. He didn’t like her going braless in front of Oliver.

  Man, he was jealous. Damn. The realization threw Jake and didn’t please him at all. “I’ve gotta go,” he growled. “We’ll talk later.” He shot Oliver one last hands-off look before he left.

  Emma spent the rest of Sunday trying to ignore the myriad emotions that Jake had aroused in her. Outwardly she tried to be a good hostess to Oliver, but inside she was confused by Jake’s behavior. He’d acted as though he was jealous, which was ridiculous. He was probably just aggravated and frustrated that he couldn’t seduce her now that she had a houseguest.

  She was frustrated too. The memory of what they’d shared last night in the back of his Jeep left her wanting more. But Oliver’s arrival gave her the chance to regroup and examine her situation logically instead of responding to the pure pleasure Jake had given her.

  Emma didn’t sleep well that night, and it wasn’t because of the sound of Oliver’s intermittent light snoring as he slept on her floor. Across the alley, Jake’s apartment was dark. Did that mean he was sleeping or working at the tavern? Wasn’t it closed by now?

  She squinted at her watch in the darkness. Three a.m. Surely the bar was shut now. So Jake was home and asleep?

  She punched her pillow and turned around so her back was facing the window and the alley and Jake’s apartment. She needed to think about her research and not orgasms. Orgasms had nothing to do with her research.

  But orgasms had everything to do with her thoughts. She restlessly shifted her legs against the cool sheets. Jake had done things to her that she’d only read about. And her body had responded in a way that was totally surprising and absolutely satisfying.

  Satisfying . . . yes. Yet here she was yearning for more, wanting it to happen again . . . and again . . . and again.

  Sleep deprived for a second night, Emma stumbled over Oliver the next morning on her way to the shower. By the time she had her first mug of coffee and started her morning tai chi, Oliver was right there beside her. After chomping his way through two bowls of Cap’n Crunch cereal that he’d brought with him in his backpack, Oliver stated that he was going out to explore what Rock Creek had to offer.

  Less than an hour later, Oliver burst into her apartment, almost falling over his own Converse-clad feet in his eagerness. “I need your help! You have to be my wingman. Right now!”

  Immersed in her research, Emma barely looked up from her laptop. “Wingman? Is that some video game you’re playing?”

  “It’s no game. It’s my destiny. She’s my destiny.”

  “Who is?”

  “The girl downstairs.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “I don’t know. I was too nervous to speak to her. That’s why you have to come with me. To be my wingman. You know, my moral support.”

  “But I’m in the middle of something here.”

  “And I’m in the middle of a quarter-life crisis here!”

  “What do you know about quarter-life crisis?”

  “I can read a sociology book as well as the next guy. Probably better and faster. And it’s all over the blogs on the Internet. You think geeks don’t have quarter-life issues? We do. We need help. I

  need help.” He tugged her to her feet. “Come on before she disappears.” Oliver rushed Emma down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.

  “Okay.” Emma looked around. “Where is she?”

  “Oh no.” Oliver looked ready to cry. “She’s gone!” He ran up and down the sidewalk before pausing in front of Cosmic Comics. Then he ran back to Emma. “She’s in there.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Because I’m nervous.”

  “Come on.” Emma took his arm.

  He dragged his heels. “Where are we going?”

  “Inside Cosmic Comics.”

  “Wait. We don’t have a plan yet. We can’t go in without a plan.”

  “I have a plan,” she assured him.

  “Then tell me what it is.”

  “We’ll go in and you point out this girl to me.” She tugged him into the store. A group of people were on one side of the store, gathered around a rack of graphic novels. “Which one is she?” Emma whispered.

  “That one.” Oliver pointed in the opposite direction. “The one wearing the GOT BRAINS?

  T-shirt.” He looked down at his own GOT QUARKS? T-shirt and said, “It’s fate. We were meant to be together.”

  “That’s Lulu.”

  “You know this fair maiden? She isn’t married, is she? I didn’t see a wedding band.”

  “No, she’s not married. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  “No, wait. I have to have an opening line. A good one. Quick, give me a good opening line.”

  “I don’t have any. Just be yourself.”

  “That’s never worked with a girl in the past.”

  “Lulu isn’t like any girl you’ve met before.”

  “That’s why I have to do this right. I can’t afford to make a mistake.”

  “Stop worrying.”

  “I’m not worrying, I’m panicking.”

  Emma hung onto Oliver’s arm to prevent him from bolting. “Listen up, newbie.”

  “Newbie?”

  “I’m sorry.
I couldn’t think of the right word. Should I have used dude instead?” she asked in concern. “I want to do this wingman thing right. I’m a newbie at this assignment so I used that term. I didn’t mean for it to be a pejorative one.”

  Oliver thought a moment before replying. “No, I don’t believe it’s pejorative. Newbie works for me. Continue.”

  “I forgot what I was going to say,” Emma muttered.

  “What’s a quark?” Lulu said from behind them.

  Emma and Oliver both jumped.

  Lulu smacked her gum and waited.

  “Does he talk?” Lulu finally asked Emma

  “Of course he does. Oliver talks. His name is Oliver.”

  Oliver gave Lulu the Vulcan greeting sign with his hand. “Live long—”

  “And prosper.” Lulu returned the Vulcan finger thing and grinned. “So you’re a Trekker?

  Me too.

  Not that I wear costumes and stuff. At least not all the time.”

  Oliver nodded. “Same here. I don’t wear pointed ears and stuff.”

  “So Oliver, I’m Lulu, and you still haven’t told me what a quark is.”

  “A subatomic particle, one of the smallest units of matter, along with leptons.”

  “You lost me at subatomic particle,” Lulu said.

  “Quarks and leptons are the basic building blocks for everything in the universe.”

  “Seriously?”

  Oliver nodded enthusiastically. “At least as far as we know at this point. There’s always the chance that we could discover even smaller particles. I don’t like to brag, but quantum chromodynamics is one of my strengths.”

  “Does he belong to you?” Lulu asked Emma.

  “Oliver is just a friend,” Emma said.

  “Great.” Lulu hooked her arm with his and pulled him away. “So Oliver, do you have a favorite graphic novel?”

  “Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman, the most successful adult graphic novel of all time.”

  “Yeah? Wicked awesome. Me too.”

  Emma watched them walk away. “So you’ve been dumped, huh?” Jake whispered in her ear.

  She shivered at the erotic feel of his warm breath against her lobe. He intensified the moment by trailing his finger around the curvature of her ear, setting her silver dangle earring in motion.

  “Were you following us?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “That’s not really an answer.”

  “I’m better at action than answers.” He gently blew into her ear and her knees almost buckled.

  “Don’t you agree?”

  “Huh?” Focus, Em, focus. Don’t let him melt you in public. Think. Be logical. Focus on symbolic interaction-ism and the misuse of statistics. Just because 99 percent of women melt when Jake blows in their ear, that doesn’t mean you will too. Or was that wrong? Did the imaginary statistic represent women or melting?

  Why, oh why couldn’t she think straight? Because he was nibbling on her earlobe and she’d somehow tilted her head to the side to allow him better access. When had that happened?

  Her insides were going all strangely wobbly as pleasure filled every last particle of her body. Every quark was electrified by his touch. Her very DNA was steeped in blissful sensation. The swirl of his tongue over the curve of her ear had her wanting to get naked with him ASAP.

  That wasn’t going to happen . . . at least not right here in the middle of Cosmic Comics.

  Jake apparently reached the same conclusion because he slid his fingers down her arm to her hand and quickly tugged her outside and down the block to “their” alley. They were upstairs in his apartment before she could find the breath to make a protest. Not that she was sure she wanted to protest. She almost wanted to tell him to go even faster.

  As soon as they were inside his place, Jake pivoted and pinned her against the door, kissing her deeply, desperately, as though there was no tomorrow. The truth was that Emma didn’t want a tomorrow if it didn’t include him, seducing her with his tongue. Her need for him trampled any words of logic, stomping them out of existence.

  Instead of melting against him, she tugged him closer. His body hardened against hers, the male contours of his lower torso erotically communicating his need while moving against the feminine shape of her pelvis. His actions moved their embrace to a new, deeper level of intimacy and desire.

  He was close, and then he was too close, plastering her against the door. She panicked. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. She was pinned in place.

  “Woof.”

  “Damn dog,” Jake growled. “Get off!”

  Emma’s panic lessened as she realized that Jake was sandwiched between her and Mutt, who had his front paws on Jake’s back, shoving him against Emma.

  “Sit!” Jake yelled.

  Now that the blind terror had retreated, Emma was able to focus on his body pressed hard against her. Her breasts were flattened against his chest. Not that she was hefty in the bra-cup department. At 36B she had no bragging rights in her family. Amazing how a mammogram could squeeze her breasts and cause her so much discomfort, but when Jake did the same thing . . . well actually, this wasn’t comfortable either.

  “Mutt, sit down!” she gasped.

  “Woof.”

  She heard the click of Mutt’s doggy nails hitting the hardwood floor.

  Jake immediately stepped away from her. He left his hands on her shoulders, his touch gentle.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Can we just sit down a minute and talk?”

  “Okay.” His voice was definitely cautious as he led her to a plaid couch. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “You.”

  “I’d rather talk about you.”

  She didn’t back down. “I know you would.”

  “So what about me?”

  “Why don’t you like talking about yourself?”

  “Because, like I told you, I prefer action to words.” He gently tugged her back into his arms and kissed her. They’d just gotten horizontal when the alarm on her watch went off.

  “Wait.” She put her hand to his chest and in doing so realized she’d somehow tugged his T-shirt out of his jeans, baring his skin to her touch. “I, um, I have to leave now. I have an appointment.”

  Her watch beeped again. She pushed the button to stop the noise.

  “You’ve got an alarm on your watch?”

  “Yeah, geeky I know.” She self-consciously slid out from under him to stand on her own two feet.

  Only then did she realize that her sandals had fallen off. She slid them back on and headed for the door.

  “Can’t you reschedule your appointment?”

  “No.”

  Jake’s cell phone rang, vibrating on the coffee table in front of the couch. He flipped it open.

  “Yeah?” He paused for a moment before telling Emma, “It’s Walt Whitman, the mayor of—”

  “Serenity Falls, yes, I know. He’s the one I have the appointment with. I’ve got to go—”

  “Hold on. He wants me to go with you.”

  “What?”

  “Here.” He handed his phone to her. “He can tell you himself.”

  “Hello? This is Emma Riley.”

  “Oh good. I was just telling Jake that you need to bring him with you when you come for our interview today.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to speak to him about an important matter.”

  “Why can’t you make a separate appointment to talk to him? Jake doesn’t have anything to do with the study I’m doing about Rock Creek.”

  “If he plans on building a resort in this area, then he has something to do with Rock Creek and Serenity Falls both.”

  “That has nothing to do with my research.”

  “Maybe not, but it has a lot to do with my vision. So bring him along today or the interview is off.”

  She’d already included the mayor’s name in the proposal she’d submitted to the grant people so there was no kicking him
out now.

  “Jake might be busy . . .” she began.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Fine.” Her voice was curt. “We’ll be there shortly.”

  She handed the phone back to Jake. “Why do you want to spend time with Walt Whitman?”

  “I don’t.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I want to spend time with you.”

  Emma didn’t know how to react to that. “We better go or we’ll be late. I’ll meet you there . . .”

  “You drive a Prius. You believe in conserving gasoline. We should drive together. In my Jeep.”

  “No way.” She remembered all too vividly the last time she’d been in his Jeep and he’d given her an orgasm or two or three. “We’ll go in my car.”

  “Okay. Give me the keys.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “So I can drive.”

  “You are not driving my car.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t let anyone drive my car.”

  “What about Oliver?”

  “What about him?”

  “Would you let him drive your car?”

  She might.

  “Aha. So why won’t you let me?” Jake said.

  “Because you’re no Oliver.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t you trust me?”

  “You have a need for speed. That’s not a real good recommendation to drive. I drive or we go in separate cars. And we leave now or we’ll be late.”

  Emma had to stop at her apartment to grab her laptop and notes before running back downstairs where Jake was waiting. His body was a little cramped in her Prius, but he didn’t complain during the short drive to Serenity Falls Town Hall. He just shot her occasional dirty looks—not the sexy kind of dirty looks, the aggravated kind.

  Walt greeted them at the door of his office. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink perhaps? No? Well then, let’s sit down and get comfortable.”

  Emma’s derriere had barely hit the seat of the plastic chair in the mayor’s office when Walt said, “Jake, have you given any further consideration to my suggestion about building your resort here in Serenity Falls instead of Rock Creek?”

  “I never said I was here to build a resort,” Jake replied.

  “I didn’t mean you’d actually build it. Not by yourself. Would you?”

  “Hell no.”

  “I didn’t think so. You have people for that. Contractors, that sort of thing.”