Sweet Dreams (Sunset Dreams Series Book 1) (5 page)

Jake looks at my foot and says, “Thirty-five.” I wait to see if he asks me how old I am, but he looks up at me and I smile back, happy he doesn’t ask. “You should put some ice on this so it doesn’t swell up.”

Frowning down at my ankle I say, “I will when I get home, thanks.”

“Well, how are you getting home?”

I start to slide down off the counter and Jake places his hands on my hips to steady me. Landing softly on the ground right in front of him, my gaze slowly travels up his chest, neck, and face to meet his eyes. His chest almost touches mine, but he doesn’t step back from me. I know I need to get away from him before I do something stupid, like attack him. I imagine running my hands up his chest, around the back of his neck, weaving my fingers through his hair.

“The normal way, I’ll walk,” I choke out. Ducking around his arm, I escape just in time, limp past him, and realize my ankle doesn’t feel too bad. It should be fine by morning.

“You shouldn’t walk on it until you’re sure it’s not sprained,” Jake says, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I rescue myself on a regular basis. Thanks.” Jake watches me with a concerned look on his face as I lock the door to the patio. I walk toward the front, trying not to limp, with a grimace on my face, turning the lights and stereo off, as Jake follows behind me.

“You are so stubborn,” Jake says with an eye roll, as I lock the front door behind me. Looking at Jake, I realize I never asked him what he wanted or why he’s here.

Oh well, we’re closed now.

“Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Jake, it’s only a few blocks. I’ll be fine.”

“Nope, not listening. I’m taking you home,” Jake says.

I can’t help thinking how sexy that determined look on his face is and I give in. “Okay, where’s your car?”

“My ride is right over there.” He points to a shiny black Ducati parked at the curb.

“Umm, on that?”

Since I’ve never been on a motorcycle before, I examine it, not sure of the best way to get on. Jake comes toward me, takes my hands in his, causing my heart to skip a beat, and guides me onto the bike. One of his hands comes around my waist, tickling my ribs as he settles me in the seat and then slides on in front of me. His scent is so intoxicating. I want to lick him, but keep myself in check. He turns the engine on and it purrs to life between my legs.

Ooh.

“Hang on!” Jake says over his shoulder, as I look for some kind of handles on the side of the bike to grab onto.

Yes, I can see me falling off the back.

“Where are the handles?” I don’t see them and it’s dark outside.

Jake grabs one of my hands and pulls it around his waist. He pats my hand and says, “Right here. Hang on.” I grab onto his waist with both arms and he slowly pulls onto the road. He turns left at the corner toward my cottage and I relish the wind blowing in my face, even though we are only going fifteen miles per hour. I can only imagine what it would be like to drive on the highway. Too soon, before I can really start to enjoy it, Jake slows down and the cottage comes into view on the right. He pulls to a stop in front, puts his feet on the ground to steady the bike, and kills the engine.

I don’t want to let go. He feels so solid against me.

So good.

His smell is so fresh and clean and all man. He pats the top of my hand and I reluctantly release my grip. Tilting the bike, he puts down the kickstand and gets off, helping me off as well. We stand on the sidewalk in front of the cottage and I start to wonder if I should invite him in.

“That was fast, thanks,” I say with a big smile. “I thought it would be scary, but it wasn’t.”

“Anytime.”

He walks me up the four steps to my door while I battle with myself whether or not I should invite him in to play doctor.

I chicken out.

Instead of inviting him in I say, “Thanks again, Jake. See you around?”

Jake’s intense stare causes me to fidget in place. “Yeah, see ya around, Jen. Make sure you put some ice on that ankle.” He jogs down the steps and I watch as he gets on his bike, pulls onto the street, and turns the corner.

Dummy, you should have invited him in.

I ice my ankle for a bit and then head to bed, tired and sore.

That night, I dream I’m on a mountain top as the most refreshing wind blows in my face.

Chapter Seven

Flirting is a woman’s trade, one must keep in practice. Charlotte Bronte

T
he rest of the week is unremarkable. Jake comes in every morning promptly at 7 a.m. when I open. Tuesday, he asks about my ankle and I reassure him I woke up fine and not to worry. He chats for five minutes and always leaves before any customers come in.

Early the following Monday, Jake parks his bike in front of the café, and I unlock the door for him. Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds” puts me in a carefree mood this morning.

Opening the door I say, “Good morning.”

Jake’s face lights up. “Good morning to you.”

Locking the door behind him, I walk behind the counter and turn down the music slightly. Pouring him a cup of coffee, I set it down in front of him as he grabs his stool and sits down.

As I put the yogurt into its place on the grab and go shelf next to the bananas, Jake asks, “So how was your weekend?”

“Good thanks, how about you?”

“Good.” He doesn’t say anything else, sips his coffee and looks down. I continue to stack yogurt and fruit in the case when he asks, “What do you do when you’re not here?”

Looking up and smiling, I say, “Lots of things, I guess. Let’s see…weekdays, most of the time, I’m here as you see. On Friday afternoons I go to my guitar lesson. Saturdays are mostly for cleaning, laundry, you know, the normal chores. Saturday nights I reserve for friends, dates, to see my dad and stepmom. And Sundays, I leave open for adventure.”

Jake studies me as I talk, taking in what I say. He nods and looks like he’s thinking about what to say next. “Good to know you’re not always working.”

“Yeah, I work a lot, but I do have a life outside of work. This place is my baby, so I’m almost always here at opening and closing, but in the middle of the day I usually take off to do my own thing for a few hours.”

Jake smiles. “So guitar, huh? Any good?”

“Nah, I was trying to teach myself for a while, but never practiced enough so I never progressed. I always wanted to be one of those people who could just pick up and play any song, ya know? So I started taking lessons on Fridays. Now I know at least one day a week I’m practicing.”

Putting down his cup of coffee, he says, “Yep it’s hard to find time to do things you want to if you have a busy work schedule. The only way is to actually create the time, set it aside for yourself, or all you end up doing is working, eating, and sleeping.”

I slide a chocolate croissant across the counter to him. “True.”

Jake takes a bite of the croissant. “This is really good.” I look up as he licks chocolate off his lip. Automatically, I lick my lips in response and look away quickly before he catches me. “These chocolate croissants are so good, Jen. I think they’re my favorite thing here, except for you of course.”

I blush savoring the complement. “You have a sweet tooth don’t you?”

“Guilty. I have to be careful not to overdo it, but yes I do.”

“How about once a week I alternate in some yogurt and granola? To keep you in check.”

“I don’t know.” He looks like a little boy that got scolded and sent to his room.

“Okay, fine.” I laugh. “For now, no yogurt, but let me know if that changes.”

“Okay.” He takes another bite of his croissant and asks, “So what are you up to today?”

“Not much. Work, maybe later something light for dinner.”

“Do you cook?”

I smile proudly. “Yes. I’m a really good cook.”

“Oh, really. What’s your specialty?”

“Mexican, but Italian is a close second. Do you like Mexican food?”

“I love Mexican food. The spicier the better.”

I perk up. “Jake, you’d love my food. I always make it spicy, except for when my dad comes over. Then I have to keep it mild. My tacos are famous.”

Oh God. That sounded weird.

Ah, who cares? He knows what I meant.

Jake smiles and I ask, “Do you cook?”

“I dabble. I can do some good steak on the grill. Enough to keep me from going hungry or eating take out all the time. I haven’t really had anything home cooked recently. I think the last time was at my brother’s house.” He looks like he’s trying to remember.

I feel bad.

Should I invite him over? Would that be too forward?

What do I do?

Ask him, ask him.

Too much time passes and Jake says, “Well I’m off.”

Shoot! I waited too long.

That was my opportunity. He left the door wide open for an invitation and I blew it.

Good going Jenna.

He walks to the front door, turns the lock to let himself out and I call, “Have a good day and drive safely.”

“Hey Jen, maybe one of these days, if you want, I could take you for a real ride on my bike. It’s fast,” he says with this little boy grin on his face.

“I’m sure it is.”

He waves and walks out through the door.

Chapter Eight

Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Alfred Lord Tennyson

April

T
his week, Jake seems a little distant. He comes in every morning for coffee, but never really stays to talk. I don’t know if he’s really busy or if something is bothering him. On Thursday, I ask if everything is all right. He tells me they’re winding down with the film and he’s tired. I leave it alone for now. He doesn’t show up Friday at all.

On Friday afternoon, I meet Jerry for my guitar lesson in the park down the road from the café. We play for a while, Jerry gives me tips and corrects some of my fingering along the way. With thirty minutes left in our lesson, I notice Jake out of the corner of my eye standing across the street talking on his cell. I almost wave him over and then stop myself, thinking it better not to call attention to him in public. He leaves and I continue my lesson with Jerry. Thirty minutes later, we finish and put our guitars away.

Jerry turns to me and says, “Jen, do you want to go to dinner tomorrow at that new Italian place?”

I don’t answer right away. Jerry and I have been on a couple of dates, but I told him I wasn’t really ready for a relationship and that it would be better to stay friends.

“Come on Jen, you need to eat. Let’s go out.”

He’s waiting for an answer… and I’m overthinking this.

Jake’s face comes to mind, but I push it aside and say, “Sure, that sounds good. I’ve been in the mood for Italian lately.”

Jerry beams. “Great, I’ll pick you up around seven tomorrow night?”