I eat my croissant while he talks. When he's done, I thank him at least five times and then stand to leave.
“Hold up a minute, Sonny Jim,” Jake says, also standing. I have more than a couple of centimetres on him, but he holds himself well and he has the kind of personality that leaks through his pores and fills any space he's in. It's the same charismatic quality Jenna has - quick-witted, sparkly eyes, an upbeat but realistic view of life - but unlike Jake, hers doesn't leak out of her, it's more something that is drip-fed to you the more time you spend together, something I fear I could become addicted to.
“I'm not sure what Jenna's said about our parents, and of course, at our age it’s sort of irrelevant, but as her nearest and dearest I feel something of a duty to ask you to be gentle with her,” he says and then he winces. “Not in the bedroom, I mean. You can be as rough with her there as she wants you to be, but rather, with all these activities you have planned today...”
“Our date?” I add for him. What’s with these thirty-something-year-olds and their shying away from that word? I thought we were the ones who were supposed to be immature.
“Yes, that.” he nods.“Jenna didn’t exactly have her heartbroken by her ex, it wasn’t like that at all, but she is quite... bruised. A lot more bruised than you may think. I know that this is just an insanely fortuitous holiday fling for the pair of you, and all power to you both, but please, just go easy on her..”
“Thanks for the pointers.” I start to peel my banana. “I’m kind of into her.”
“I can tell. And I think that’s exactlywhyI’m asking you to be gentle with her.” His quick pout and the way his eyes assess me from head to toe are just as cryptic as his words.
“Message received,” I lie, because I really have no clue what he’s warning me to do or not do, but I already know I have no intention of hurting Jenna. “And thanks a million for your help.”
“My pleasure.” His expression has softened and I see his eyes look tired, his skin a little flushed and peaky.
It’s my turn to squint at him. “How was champagne with Lionel?” I ask.
His eyes widen briefly. “None of your business,” he says with a pout.
“That good, huh?”
His eyelashes flutter. “Should I call Yiannis back and cancel that booking?”
“No thanks,” I say quickly and bite into my banana again. “I’ll put my spoon away and stop stirring now.”
“Appreciated. As is your... err, discretion,” Jake adds glancing at the door again to check it’s closed.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m easy like Sunday morning,” I sing but when I see his face turn to thunder, I hold my hands up and back away.
“Oh, shit. One more thing,” I say, after opening the door. “It’s my birthday tomorrow and I promised my parents I would ask you about a cake. Are you able to possibly organise something? I could make it myself if you let me have an hour in one of your kitchens. I don’t want to cause any bother, but I thought it best I ask rather than my mother, who will almost certainly give you a migraine in the process.”
Jake smiles. “Birthday cakes are easy, and your mother is welcome to come and talk to me about it. I have a lot of experience with migraine-inducing guests,” he says.
“I don’t doubt it, but you haven’t met my mother. I really wasn’t joking about the headache. My father, sister and I sometimes take co-codamol with breakfast just as a precaution.” I take a final bite of banana.
“I bloody hope not if you’re planning on taking my sister around the island in a car! But for the cake, just let me know where you’ll all be dining and I’ll have something arranged,” he says.
I nod and give him my broadest smile. “Thanks, Jake. And thanks again for your help for today.”
“Not at all,” he says and then he waves me off like I’m bothering him. “Be gone. Go and whisk my sister off her feet, but like I said, put her down safely afterwards.” He pauses, his eyes looking up at the corner of the room. “Or not. Throw her on a bed, tie her wrists together and rip her clothes off, for all I care.”
I blink and swallow slowly. “Wow. You and your sister share a lot of things I don’t share with my sister.”
“Oh, we don’t share stuff like that at all. That’s just what I wish a tall, dark and handsome stranger would do to me.” Jake smacks his lips as if to punctuate the end of that line of discussion. “Have a great day, Marty O’Martin.”
And before I can stop myself, I say, “You too, Sweet Cheeks.” And walk away hummingAll Night Longby Lionel Richie a little louder than is necessary.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jenna
It’s strange being more nervous about putting clothes on for him than taking them off. But here we are. And by here, I mean washing my hands in the bathroom after my third nervous poo of the morning and it’s not even nine o’clock yet. Goddamn my sensitive bowels. Considering I skipped dinner again last night and couldn’t eat much of the breakfast that my brother sent to my villa – this time unaccompanied by his lovely self as he had a wasps’ nest emergency or some other implausible drama to attend to – I have no clue where this is all coming from.
And yet I do, because it’s the first time I am going on a date with a man I have a real attraction to. It’s hard not to make it into a big deal when I’ve spent the last year questioning if such a thing was even possible again for me.
I comfort the nerves by reminding myself about last night. About how good it was. About how hard I came. About how he looked in the shower, between my legs, on top of me.
