The Match (It Happened in Charleston 1)
Jake was on a work call when I left him, and Sam was in
the living room. I walked toward the downstairs bathroom, innocent as the day I was born, until I was out of Jake’s eye line. Then, I shut the bathroom door from the outside—I obviously missed my calling as a spy of some sort—and then hurried down the hall where I suspected Jake’s room to be.
I don’t know why I feel the overwhelming need to be in here. I think it’s because Jake still feels like a mystery to me, and I’m hoping that if I have this inside look at his personal life, I’ll stumble across the secret to who he is. During our last five days of training camp, Jake has been kind and friendly. But that’s it. Nothing more. Nada. His attention is zeroed in on Sam or work or Daisy. He smiles at me. He asks if I want anything to drink. But that’s it.
I wouldn’t think anything strange about it if it weren’t for the texts I get like clockwork every night. I’ve never been so glued to my phone before. It always starts with something innocuous and then quickly dips into flirtatious. It’s like he has another Jacob Broaden stuffed in a closet somewhere and only lets him out after 8 PM.
I open his closet, and unfortunately, no one jumps out.
Now, I realize that I am a borderline stalker woman right now. It’s creepy that I’m tiptoeing around his room, running my fingers across his rumpled gray bedspread, and smiling that he doesn’t bother to make it before he leaves in the morning. I really want to pick up his shirt laying across his bed and smell it…but I said that I was only BORDERLINE creepy, and I stand by that, therefore I refrain.
The ugly truth is, I saw the signs saying Beware: Crush Ahead, but I blew right past them. Jake has stolen all of my brain space.
He is all I think about, and it’s really making me nervous. I don’t want to fall for him. I still feel like he’s too far out of my league. So, I guess, by me tiptoeing around his room like this, I’m sort of just torturing myself with what I’ll never have.
My eyes narrow on a book beside his bed, and my greedy little fingers snatch it up. What does a man like Jake read before he goes to bed?
TWILIGHT?! No. You’ve got to be kidding me. This one life choice of his has me rethinking everything. There’s no other explanation for a thirty-three-year-old man reading a book about teenage vampire love: he’s a psychopath.
Yes, I realize that’s rich coming from a woman snooping around a man’s bedroom.
“Find anything interesting?” Jake’s voice sounds behind me, and I snap the book shut and spin around to face him, holding the book behind my back.
I’m caught red-handed. The jewels are behind my back, and it’s incriminating enough to send me to prison for the rest of my life. I don’t dare speak. I have the right to remain silent. I’ve seen enough cop shows to know that anything I say will be held against me in a court of law.
“Whatcha got there?” He’s smiling, and I’m turning into a tomato.
“I was looking for the bathroom.”
“In my bedside table?”
He’s stalking toward me, and I’m quaking in my tennis shoes. Where’s Charlie when I need him? Attack, boy!
Jake stops just in front of me, so close that I can feel the heat rushing off of him in waves, and I have to tip my head up to look at him. It’s doing nothing to help my flaming cheeks. I don’t think he’s ever stood this close to me before, and I’m wondering if maybe this is 8-PM Jacob Broaden, freshly escaped from whatever cell he’s normally kept in.
He reaches around me, his arm brushing against my shoulder, and I think I accidentally shudder. No, I know I do because he notices and smirks. Hello, 8-PM Jake.
After retrieving the evidence from behind my back, he chuckles. I can’t look away and neither can he. He’s holding the book between us now but doesn’t bother to look down at it. “Were you about to call Child Protection Services to have Sam removed from my guardianship after seeing this?”
“The number is halfway typed in my phone.” I don’t like how wobbly my voice sounds. But how else am I supposed to sound when I’m face to chest with a superhero that just finished fighting crime? Because that’s clearly what Jake is. It’s the only logical explanation for all the muscles.
He smiles. “Sam said she wanted to read it, so I thought I would read it first to see if it’s appropriate for her.”
“A likely story.” I can’t let him know that I think he’s probably the best dad I’ve ever seen before. The way he loves and cares for Sam only adds to my attraction for him.
“It’s not at all an appropriate book for her.” His eyes drop to my mouth. “Too much longing and wanting.”
Between Edward and Bella, right? Because my mind is screaming that he’s talking about us, and I have no idea what to do with that information. I want Jake to like me; I want him to want me. But I also don’t dare believe that he really does. I don’t have anything to offer him.
“By the way, your boss is here,” he mentions casually as if that isn’t the most startling information I’ve heard all day. It has the same effect on me as a hypnotist snapping his fingers.
My head rears back. “Joanna?!”
He nods, but his eyes are still trying to tell me something. “That’s why I came to get you. But I figured I should let you have a few minutes to creep around my room first.”
My cheeks heat again. “You knew I was in here the whole time?”
His smile grows. “I don’t mind. Snoop anytime you want.”