Love the One You're With (Sex, Love & Stiletto 2)
Page 93
“Getting there,” she said softly.
“Well, let’s get you all the way there.”
Jake took her hand, leading her into the bedroom before rummaging around in his dressers. Unabashedly he dropped his towel before stepping into flannel pajama pants.
“Your weekend uniform?” she asked.
He nodded before gesturing for her to come closer. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a spare.”
He very gently lifted her arms above her head before peeling off her damp long-sleeved shirt. Then he reached around, unhooking her bra. If she needed proof that Jake Malone could be more than a womanizing sex hound, the proof was in the fact that his eyes never dropped below her face, even when she stood topless in front of him. Then he was sliding a soft T-shirt over her head.
They repeated the process with her wet jeans and panties, although his spare pair of pajama pants was about five sizes too large.
It didn’t matter, though, because then he scooped her up and carried her back into the living room, settling her on the couch before he went to the kitchen.
“Coffee?”
“No thanks,” she said, watching him pour a mug for himself.
“Leftover Chinese food?”
“Funny,” she said with a smile.
Jake shrugged before joining her on the couch, pulling her legs over his and rubbing her chilled feet with his big hands.
“Talk.”
Grace swallowed. Here we go.
“I was planning on coming last night. I made it as far as my front door.”
“But …?”
“But Greg was there.”
“Greg …?”
“My ex.”
His hands stilled briefly. “The cheater.”
“Yeah. That one.”
“Tell me he has a black eye right about now,” he said, his face going stormy.
“No. Oddly, I wasn’t even mad. He was … broken, you know?”
“He lost you. Of course he’d be broken.”
She gave a little smile. “You and your lines. Anyway, he asked me to hear him out, and I did.”
Jake’s expression was turning increasingly dark, although rather than lecturing her, he let her speak.
“So anyway, he said all the usual stuff you’d expect. That he misses me, that we were perfect together, that he could make me happy …”
His hands never stopped their soothing motion on her feet, but she felt the way his fingers tightened briefly, pushing too hard on her arch when she said that Greg could make her happy.
“So that was it?” he asked when she’d finished recounting Greg’s sorry speech. “He came to beg your forgiveness, then you said it was too little too late and tossed him out? That’s why I ate Chinese food alone?”