Playing With Trouble (Desire Bay 1)

Wait . . . scowling?

“I’m looking for my father, Walt Baughman. Not for you or your pickup lines.”

Funny how she said, “my father, Walt Baughman,” as if Jake didn’t know who she was. Which meant . . .

“Do you know who I am?” he asked and gestured to his name tag with his eyes. Sure, they hadn’t been BFFs in high school, but they’d hung out some. But she couldn’t be this out of the loop, right? Considering her father was basically retired and Jake was running the show. Had been for the past five years now. He was even set to buy the place from Walt as soon as he was ready. Because Jake had put a decade of blood, sweat, and tears into the place, and it was like his home. His career. His purpose.

“Oh!” Laura smiled awkwardly. “Of course, Jake.” She read his name tag. “You’re the stock boy—man”—she caught herself—“the one my father has spoken so highly of in the past.”

Jake frowned. Stock boy? Okay, he didn’t look like the band geek he’d once been. Sure, his hair was longer, and he could grow a beard now, and had ditched the braces. Side note: he could still play a wicked clarinet solo. But he couldn’t be that different.

“I’m happy to hear your father thinks highly of me, considering we built the place up together. But I’m curious what you think of me. Presently.”

She frowned. “I, ah . . . I don’t think I understand. If you want honesty, then I should tell you that your pickup line could use some work. And I’m not interested in dating Baughman employees, so . . .”

“I see your ego is still right on point,” he said with a grin and hooked one thumb in his belt, which she stared at. Oh yeah, ego or not, Miss Baughman was checking out a Baughman employee.

“Says the guy who’s flexing his pecs,” she replied.

“So you noticed my pecs?” He flexed again, making them dance, and that pink flush in her cheeks deepened. Man, sparring with her was fun.

“Noticed or not, you clearly can’t take the hint that I’m not interested in a stock boy.”

“Well, clearly you’ve been misinformed, because the word you’re looking for is foreman. Maybe if I got out my marching band uniform that’d help jog your memory and your manners?”

Her beautiful eyes went wide. She looked at his name tag again, then at his face. Name tag. Face.

“Jake . . . as in Jacob Lock?”

He smiled, because those eyes ran the entire length of his body again. Up and down and back up and back down.

“You’re . . . hot—huge! I meant, huge.” She clamped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Prom queen thought he was hot. And the nerd in him wanted to jump for joy. “I had no idea you were that Jake. I thought you were just some lug telling me my dad’s business and—”

“Hitting on you?”

She nodded and laughed. “Yeah. But I was wrong because you never had a girlfriend—I mean . . . that’s not what I meant. I meant you’re not the type to hit on someone.”

“In my defense, my line was pretty good, and I was just responding to your attitude.”

That made her take an extra breath. “You think I have attitude?”

“Oh, I know you do,” he said with a smile. And like it or not, Jake was both irritated and turned on. Because he did know how to treat a woman, and that was something he wanted to show prom queen over there real bad. Because she was the misinformed one if she thought he was anything like he’d been when he was a scrawny teenager.

“I didn’t mean to be snarky. I just got caught in the rain, and you are the first person I’ve seen around here. And you’re so . . .” She scanned him again. “Different.”

Different.

Jake wanted to take that as a good thing, but deep down, he knew he was still the nerd talking to the popular girl, and a flare in him wanted to take that word, different, and replace it with another. Like, strong, capable, hot. Which she had said already. No takesees-backsees. Wow, even his mind was thinking like a damn teenager

again.

And Laura Baughman was difficult. She wasn’t a brat, exactly. She was a wild card. Went after what she wanted. He knew this because her ambition had led her straight out of town right after graduation.

“You look exactly the same,” he said. And that was a lie. She looked better. So much better it wasn’t fair to other humans.

“You don’t at all,” she said. “The you-now could eat the you-in-high-school for a snack.”

“Now look who’s the poet with words,” Jake said.