Dare to Love Page 3
stepped onto the side rail and hoisted herself up.
“Lucille?” Jake asked with a chuckle as he hopped in on the other side.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, the adrenaline rush brought about by the argument with her
father still zinging through her nerve endings.
He gunned the engine loud enough for her father to hear. It roared in her ears and
vibrated her seat. Massive, powerful, the truck was like barely contained testosterone on
wheels.
Which pretty much described Jake Dalton. He slipped the car into gear and peeled away from the curb, burning rubber in his wake. Lucy hid the smile that lifted the corners
of her mouth as she spied her father’s rigid stance at the front window.
“Fiancé, huh?” he asked.
“No. No fiancé.”
“I guess we’re lucky you got out of there when you did.”
“Why?”
“You might have been grounded and we’d have had to cancel our date tonight.”
“Very funny.” She was not in the mood for laughs made at her expense, since she was mortified at her father’s behavior, and Jake wasn’t making it any easier. “Can we just
drop it?”
“Why? Don’t you think it’s funny?”
“Not in the least.” Now she wished she hadn’t agreed to the date after all. It was clear he was going to tease her all evening.
“Lighten up, Lucille,” he said, accentuating her name.
“My name is Lucy.”
“Is it?”
“All right. It’s Lucille.”
“After?”
She turned to him with a frown. “After?”
“Yeah. Surely your parents wouldn’t name you that on a whim.” Now he hated her name. Lovely. “What’s wrong with Lucille?”
“Nothing. It’s just not…”
“Not what?”
“I dunno. Doesn’t seem to suit you, I guess.”
“I was named after my grandmother.”
“Ah. Figured it was something like that. But I like the name Lucy. It fits you.”
“Fits? How?”
When they stopped at a red light, he reached out and grasped an escaping tendril of
her uncontrollable hair, letting it slide slowly through his fingers. She shivered at the
brush of his knuckles against her cheek. “Short and sassy. Like you.”
“Oh.” She studied him, looking for signs of some joke at her expense, but he only turned his eyes back to the road.
Wow, it was really warm in the truck now.
The radio played softly in the background. Country music. She stole glances at him,
watching as he tapped his fingers in time to a song about lost love and broken hearts.
“Where are we going?” She noticed they’d headed over the Bay Bridge into the east
bay.
“It’s a surprise,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the road.
“Um, am I dressed appropriately?”
He glanced at her briefly, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “You look fine.”
Fine? What did that mean? Could there be a more nondescript word than fine?
For
all she knew that was manspeak for hideous. She leaned against the door and rubbed her
forehead with her index finger, feeling the beginning strains of a headache. This whole
night had been a disaster so far. She’d be glad when it was over.
They pulled into Robbie’s Ribs, a one frame building that looked more like a farmhouse than a restaurant.
“You like ribs?” Jake asked as he opened her door.
“I don’t know.”
He tilted his head and expertly cocked one brow in question. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I’ve never had ribs.”
Jake shook his head. “Figures.”
“What figures?”
“Nothing. Come on.”
He grabbed her hand and started off. His hand was warm, his fingers entwined with
hers. The simplest gesture and it probably meant nothing to him, but Lucy felt tingles all
the way to her toes. His grip was firm and he walked very close to her, his shoulder
brushing hers all the way inside.
He held the door open for her, put his hand on the small of her back to lead her inside.
He liked to touch her. She noticed that.
She liked it.
She didn’t want to like it.
But she did.
Interesting choice of restaurant for a date. The place was packed. And loud.
Unlike
anything Lucy had ever experienced. Entire families ate here, at tables that looked like
dark picnic benches. Out of little plastic baskets lined with paper. And they ate with their
fingers.
It smelled both sweet and spicy. Warm, and full of laughter. A family restaurant.
She followed Jake to a cafeteria style counter where they slid trays along, telling the
person behind the glass what to scoop on their plates. Not knowing what to choose, she
relied on Jake’s suggestion and ended up with a huge pile of ribs, beans, coleslaw and
bread. They grabbed one of the smaller picnic tables and sat.
Okay, now what? Ribs and barbecue sauce, which she was supposed to eat with her
fingers. The white sweater she’d chosen was fast looking like a bad choice of attire.
“Are you going to stare at the food all night or are you going to eat it?” She looked up at Jake. “Um, how?”
He grinned and shook his head. “Lost without twelve utensils on each side, aren’t you, honey?”
“Smartass.”
He laughed, clearly not at all insulted. “They’re ribs. Pick them up and eat with your
fingers.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Everyone gets messy. It’s allowed.”
He dug into his meal, sauce lined on the sides of his mouth, seemingly unaffected by
her dilemma. She couldn’t very well try to cut a centimeter-sized piece of meat off the
bone, now could she? With as much decorum as she could manage, she picked up a rib
and bit into it.
She bit back a moan. Dear God, it was delicious. The meat was tender and fell off the bone into her mouth. The tangy sauce tickled her taste buds with its sweet and spicy
flavor, and she found herself devouring the meal. She even licked her fingers. By the time
she’d finished and wiped her hands, she looked up and found Jake watching her.
Intently.
“What?” she asked, sliding her tongue across her lips in case some barbecue sauce
had failed to be swept away by her napkin.
“Don’t do that.” His gaze never left her mouth.
“Don’t do what?”
“Lick your lips like that.”
She stopped in the middle of her frantic tongue swiping and looked around. The only
person who had an eye on her was Jake. “Why not?”
“It turns me on,” he said with a wicked grin.
In an instant her throat went dry and her toes curled in her tennis shoes. “It does?”
“Yeah. Don’t you know what a woman licking her lips like that does to a man?”
“Um, no.” To the best of her recollection, no man had ever told her she turned him
on. Especially not during dinner.
“You want me to tell you what kind of image that conjures up in my mind?” Did she ever. She had her own visuals going and wondered if hers would match his.
“No.”
Desire flamed hot in his eyes. “You sure?”
No, she wasn’t. She was dying to know. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Too bad. You ready to go?”
Since she couldn’t indulge her fantasy about licking lips and Jake in this crowde
d, family style restaurant, she supposed she was ready to leave.
She had never enjoyed a meal so much in her life. No one paid attention to where her
napkin sat in her lap, or for that matter if she even had a napkin there. No one raised an
eyebrow at the occasional slurp of her soft drink, and no one told her to take her elbows
off the table. In fact, she was fairly certain it was a requirement here.
She probably could have burped and not a single soul would have batted an eyelash.
The thought was appalling, yet made her want to giggle.
All in all, the evening hadn’t been as bad as she’d anticipated. Granted, they hadn’t
talked much, but at least she’d survived it. And she hadn’t had to make up some lame
excuse to cancel out on him. Now he’d take her home, and that would be that.
Except he didn’t. They drove a few miles down the road and Jake pulled into a gravel parking lot. The only building was a shack emblazoned with the name Murphy’s.
A bar. A tiny little bar no bigger than a one room house.
She glanced at him and he smiled, turning off the ignition. “How about a beer?” Beer. Now that was something she hadn’t had much of in her life. “Okay.” There were only a handful of cars in the parking lot. Several neon signs blinked on and off in the window. Jake grasped the handle of the paint scarred wooden door and held
it open for her.
It was completely dark inside, with the exception of a few lights over the bar and single pool table in the middle of the room. A few men sat at the bar watching a baseball
game on television, and another two men were playing pool. Everyone turned to look as
they walked in.
She was the only woman in the place. And these guys looked like they hadn’t seen a
female in years.
“They won’t bite,” he whispered into her ear and propelled her forward with his hand
on the small of her back. “Unless you ask them to.” She shivered, whether from that suggestion or the feel of his palm on her back she
wasn’t sure. Either way, she felt comforted by Jake’s presence. He seemed like the kind
of man who could handle himself in a place like this.
He led her to a table in the back of the small room and left to get them drinks.
Lucy
sat ramrod straight in the hard wooden chair, her hands clasped on the table.
Strains of
soft oldies music played from the jukebox, and apparently her appearance in the place
wore off quickly, because the men ignored her.
Jake returned with two bottles of beer. She sipped the cool liquid, sighing at a long
forgotten pleasure. She hadn’t had a beer since college.
“Not quite the elegance you’re used to, is it?” he asked, arching a brow.
Was this some kind of test? A challenge? She shrugged in response. “It’s fine.” He laughed and she bristled, knowing he was having some sort of fun at her expense.
So she wasn’t used to eating at barbecue joints and having drinks in a one room bar. That
didn’t make her a snob.
“Are you having fun?” she asked.
“It’s fine,” he mimicked.
She let out a huff, knowing she should never have agreed to this date. It was obvious
they had nothing in common. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the bar, counting down the minutes until Jake would take her home.
“Why did your dad tell me you had a fiancé?”
The question threw her off kilter, and she found herself unable to answer.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it. Your fiancé has nothing to worry about
from me. I promise I won’t touch you.”
“I don’t have a fiancé,” she answered, twirling her finger over the condensation on
the beer bottle. And what did he mean he wouldn’t touch her? Was she repugnant? They
had seemed to make a connection in the restaurant. She had felt sparks, just as she did at
the construction site this morning. Had she been wrong?
“I see. Well, no I don’t see, actually. He thinks you have a fiancé, but you don’t?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine.”
She looked up at the sound of his clipped tone. Oh, man was he beautiful. Not gorgeous in a male model kind of way. His nose was wide and a touch crooked, and he
looked like he needed a shave. Wisps of dark hair fell over his forehead, making her want
to sweep them back with her hand. He was rugged. All male. Loaded with testosterone.
Not a pretty boy, not refined, not impeccably tailored. Just a fine looking man. A real
man. The kind of man who could literally sweep a woman off her feet. The kind of man a
woman would want to grab by the shirt and kiss. Hard.
She felt flutters of arousal at the thought of what she’d like to do with Jake.
Time to change the subject before her fantasies got out of hand.
“My father wants me to get married,” she blurted, then immediately winced. Now why on earth had she said that?
“Why?” He took a long swallow of his beer and leaned back in the chair.
Oh, why not give him something else to make fun of? “He thinks I’m getting older and it’s time I settle down.”
He offered a wry smile. “You’re hardly reaching retirement age. I think you’ve got a
few good years left on the old biological clock, don’t you?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“Is that the only reason he wants you to get married?” How much should she tell him? Jake was a stranger and had made it perfectly clear
that he was no more interested in her than she was in him. Worse, he made fun of her at
every turn. Dare she give him more ammunition?
“There’s this man my father thinks would be a good asset for the firm.”
“Asset?”
“Alexander Sheldon. CEO of one of the big law firms in the city. Divorced, multimillionaire, and possibly interested in merging our two companies.”
“Company being your family’s law firm.”
She nodded.
“So you’re being bartered.”
“No!”
His eyes widened at her shouted denial. She sunk down a little bit in her chair, now
having managed to once again capture the attention of the men in there. “It’s not like that
at all.”
“Then tell me what it is like.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
His eyes narrowed “Why wouldn’t I understand? Think I’m too dumb to comprehend the subtle nuances of the rich?”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant at all.” Without thinking, she slipped her hand over
his and squeezed. God, she was failing miserably at this date.
He flipped his hand over, twining his fingers with hers. Her stomach dropped to her
feet and her heart began to pound. And yet she didn’t pull her hand away. He was like a
magnet, drawing her ever closer. She liked touching him, and she really liked when he
touched her.
Did he feel it too? That spark, like a pleasurable jolt that fired you up on the inside?
She suddenly found it hard to breathe.
“Why can’t you just pick your own guy?”
Indeed, why couldn’t she? “That’s my intention.”
“But your dad sees it otherwise.”
She pulled her hand away. His touch distracted her, made it hard to think straight.
“My father is an honorable man, a very good man.”
“But still, he’s trying to control your life. A life you should be able to make decisions for on your own.”
“I can handle my father. When I find the right man, I’ll marry.” She
just needed to keep repeating that same phrase to her father, over and over and over again, hoping that
some day it might actually penetrate his stubborn skull.
“Why don’t you just get a boyfriend, or a fiancé? Get your father off your back?” If only it were that easy. Of course, actually dating would be a good start. Funny how
she never seemed to make time for that. “I will. Some day.” And in the meantime, her father would continually shove Alex at her. She shuddered