“So,” he said, as he cleared his throat.
“Yeah?”
Silence. She glanced at him, and he was staring out the window, one foot up on the side of the door, leaned back and resting on his arm, a picture of relaxation. He looked fucking marvelous, and she dragged her gaze away from him back to the road before she crashed the truck.
Damn it. This attraction was running at full freaking gallop. She’d been with guys before, felt that rush of attraction, so why did it feel different this time? She tried to remember if she’d ever had this exact feeling with Darren, and she couldn’t. That might be a good thing, but the squeeze of her stomach and the hyperawareness of Jake beside her felt risky and enticing, which had never entered the equation when she started dating Darren. But that wasn’t why she’d started dating him. Risk was the furthest thing from it.
Shaking her head slightly to get her asshole ex out of her mind, she focused on being present with Jake. Jake, who was beside her, and wanted her, and was currently so damned sexy it was unfair.
“Everything good?” Jake asked, and she nodded, maybe a bit too fervently, because he raised one eyebrow.
“Yeah. Hate driving in the city,” she lied.
“Want me to drive?” he asked.
“No way am I letting you drive my truck,” she said, and winced when she realized she’d blurted it harshly. “Sorry, no. No one drives my truck but me. It’s a thing.”
“No apologies needed. We’re not in a hurry, are we?” he said, and turned his eyes back out the window. His voice had gone a bit flat, a sign she’d shut him down again.
They both needed a distraction, not just her. The rapport they’d had in the days leading up to that kiss was nonexistent. She had no way to read him; he’d closed up despite his relaxed pose.
“I was going to pick up some books for Mom. Do you need to stop anywhere?” she finally asked.
“A bookstore sounds nice,” he replied, his voice quiet. “And a chance to get a proper coffee with you. No more crossed signals.”
She turned the truck toward the shopping area where she knew a big bookstore with a coffee shop attached to it would be, resting her right hand on the shifter when she merged into the fast lane. “Up here. Coffee and books in the same place.”
He smiled at her and reached over, putting his hand on hers. Warmth, and something else, flooded her. She flicked a glance at their hands. His thumb caressed her knuckles.
“Jake,” she said hesitantly. “I’m—”
“Liz,” he replied in the same tone. “Let’s take it one day at a time, see where we end up, yeah?”
She nodded silently, focusing on the pressure of his hand, and even though her heart raced the moment he touched her, the pressure also calmed her thoughts.
His words were the right ones. Just take it one day at a time. She could handle that.
* * *
Liz stared blankly at the wall of romance-novel spines staring back at her, perplexed at what to choose. She sipped her coffee and slid her gaze over to Jake, who was picking up books, reading the covers, raising his eyebrows, and then gingerly putting them back, as if something sticky was on them.
“No wonder we can never do anything right,” he said, his tone light. “Every single dude is a billionaire with perfect abs, royalty, or a special ops military guy who can kill you with his pinkie but won’t because he’s a good guy.”
“My mom reads them, says she likes the happy endings. It’s not reality, though. Love isn’t like that. It isn’t happily ever after,” she replied bitterly.
“Easy there, Sister Mary,” Jake murmured as he stepped close to her, his arm rubbing hers as he ran his finger over the spines. “Why else does your mom like them?”
Thankful for his deflection, Liz shook off the irritation his question had raised. She’d asked her mom that question many times, after hearing about the latest bodice ripper her mom was glued to. Her mom consumed at least two books a week, if not more. Liz had always wanted to buy her an e-reader, but they were expensive, and she wasn’t sure her mom would like the experience as opposed to holding a real book and turning the pages. Liz thought it was more than just reading for her mom; it looked more like a form of meditation when she’d catch her mother curled up with a book.
“She says she likes the fact that the stories are about women being in charge of their destinies, they have agency, that sort of thing,” she said. “I think truthfully she likes the sex in them. Some of them are really spicy.”
“Spicy, huh? Like lots of sex?” Jake asked.
“Yeah. I don’t know, though, sometimes the scenes in older books she picks up at garage sales feel wrong. Like the woman is forced to do things against her will, and stuff.”
Jakehmmed and picked a book off the shelf, examining the cover. “What about this one? The dude on the front looks constipated. Says here he’s a ‘shifter.’ What in the hell is a shifter?”
Liz held in a laugh and shook her head. “Beats me. Maybe a fictional race-car driver type? Who knows. I’ll just get her some of these, the historical ones. She likes them best.”
