Page 58 of Everything We Left Unsaid

Before he can tell me any more, the waitress arrives with our meals. I’m secretly relieved. I don’t think I’m ready to hear about his trip to Africa. We’ve just gotten past all the pain and devastation from that time in our lives. I’m not ready to revisit it yet. Besides, I’m sure he saw things there that would break my heart to hear about. I know he went to help people, people who don’t get to enjoy the little things we take for granted every day. No, that’s a conversation best saved for another time.

“What about you?” he prompts, cutting into his steak. “You made your own dreams come true, working for the park service.”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” I respond contentedly, thinking about the job I’ve held for about six months. I’d already resigned myself to waiting for one of the previous naturalists to retire before a position came open. I spent the time between graduation and landing my new job by working at Rosie’s and substitute teaching. That’s how I met Gavin.

Jacob’s jaw ticks almost imperceptibly at the mention of my former... flame, but I see it. His jealousy sends a little thrill through my body, my skin tingling as my pulse quickens. He’s always been a little possessive, a little alpha, and damn if that doesn’t turn me on.

“Once I got hired on full time, I quit subbing and cut way back on my hours at the restaurant. I fill in every once in a blue moon to help Ros out, but even those sporadic shifts are getting fewer and farther between. I definitely won’t be able to now that my grandmother is ill.” My face falls and my chest aches at the thought of her lying in that hospital bed, just waiting to come home. And here I sit, stuffing my face with expensive wine and roast chicken while she probably had mystery meat and sugar free Jell-O from the hospital’s cafeteria for dinner.

“Hey,” Jacob says, reaching for my hand. I rub my forehead, my brows pinched together as a dull ache settles behind my eyes. What am I gonna do? “It’s going to be alright,” he promises. “She’s strong and has already survived the hardest part,” he assures me. “And she has you in her corner, fighting for her, taking care of her. She’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“I hope you’re right.” Please, Lord, let him be right.

My second glass of wine goes down easier than the first, and my vision grows fuzzy as my face warms and my limbs loosen. “Would you like another?” the waitress asks as she collects our dinner plates.

“No, thank you,” I decline. I’ve had enough to feel good, but another would just make me sloppy. Besides, Jacob hasn’t even finished his only beer, so I already feel like I’ve overindulged. Long gone are the days of drinking moonshine around a bonfire with my friends, staying close enough to ward off the mosquitoes but far enough away not to get burned. These days, I’m sipping a glass of chardonnay on the couch with a good book after Chloe goes to bed. My tolerance has drastically decreased over the last couple years.

“Shall we have dessert?” Jacob offers, the hint of a smirk playing on his features. His double entendre doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s trying to make me uncomfortable, make me blush, and it’s working. But he’s not the only one who can play this game.

“Hmm,” I begin as though pondering his question. “Dessert sounds great. I’m in no hurry,” I shrug, not even trying to hide my own smirk.

His face falls for a fraction of a second before his eyes narrow on me and the corner of his mouth jumps. He knows what I’m doing. The look in his eyes tells me it’s game on.

“I’m in the mood for something extra sweet,” he requests with a sly smile. “I want something soft, but decadent.” He grips his chin with his fingers as though considering what he wants. “Maybe something with cream in the middle,” he adds, his eyes never leaving mine, even though it seems like he’s speaking to our waitress. “Or spread all over the top. Either way.” He shrugs, a playful gleam in his eye.

My breath hitches, his suggestive request curling my toes. God, I’m the dessert. I suppress a moan, the knowledge of his desire fueling my own. I know what he wants and I can’t wait to give it to him.

The waitress blinks at him, the innuendo lost on her. Her eyes drift to me and back to him, confusion marring her features. “We have white chocolate raspberry cheesecake. It’s pretty soft,” she offers uncertainly. “We serve it with homemade whipped cream,” she adds hopefully, more confident her recommendation will meet all his requirements. Too bad her cheesecake is the furthest thing from his mind.

“That sounds perfect,” he says, not even sparing her a glance. I kinda like that he can’t take his eyes off me, not even to look at another woman. Especially not to look at another woman.

“And for you, miss?” She turns her attention to me, but I keep my eyes glued on Jacob’s.

“I think I’ll just try a taste of his dessert.” Jacob’s eyes darken and his chest heaves. He started this game, but I’m gonna finish it. I toe off one shoe as the waitress repeats his order. His eyes widen fractionally when I slide my foot up the inside of his calf. Straightening his spine, he clears his throat and nods, dismissing her from our table.

He doesn’t say a word as I slowly drag my instep along his inseam, inching my way closer to his groin. When I get as close as my current position will allow me – about halfway up his thigh – his hand darts out and grips my ankle.

“If you want to touch it, all you have to do is ask.” Awareness lights my skin on fire. His hand on such an unsexual part of my body elicits a very erotic response in all my erogenous zones. Maybe it’s the tight grip he has on me, exerting and displaying his strength, or the masculine dominance I feel pulsating off his body. Maybe it’s because I know his hands will be much, much higher on my leg before the night is over.

His fingers loosen to caress just inside my ankle bone, the little dip where my pulse hammers against my skin. They glide upwards until the table gets in his way, preventing him from reaching any further.

“I think we should get our dessert to go.”

Fuck dessert. “I think you’re right.” Just get me out of here and into your bed.

Jacob pays our bill while they box and bag our cheesecake. When we get to the car, he grabs me by the arm and pulls me in close, crashing his lips down on mine. He presses into me, pushing my back into the passenger door, and I tilt my head to allow him access to my neck. He wedges his knee between my thighs and I spread them, opening up to him without a second thought. A moan escapes my lips but his mouth swallows the sound, his tongue slipping past my teeth as he cups the back of my neck. The pressure of his thigh against my core makes me rock my hips forward, searching for something to ease the ache.

A deep growl rumbles low in his chest and escapes his lips as he bites gently down on mine. When he steps back, I nearly whimper at the loss of contact. Both hands braced on the hood, one on each side of my head, he presses his forehead to mine.

“We gotta go,” he demands.

I nod, panting, and step aside so he can open my door. He settles in beside me and fires up the engine, throwing the SUV in drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

The silence in the car is almost deafening, the air between us thick with tension and need. I reach down to switch on the radio, needing something, anything to distract me from the desire coursing through my body. After a few upbeat, nineties pop hits, a sexy, slow guitar riff sounds over the speakers and I know we’re in trouble.

Jacob’s grip on my hand tightens and my eyes flash to him. His stare remains on the road, but his jawline is tense, his mouth clamped shut. He knows this song, too. I should probably change the station, knowing this song will add fuel to an already blazing inferno, but I don’t want to. I like the flames. This time, I want them to consume me.

T Boz’s sultry voice floats all around as the lyrics to “Red Light Special” seep into our skin. Jacob doesn’t utter a word and neither do I. We allow the three ladies to seduce us with their sexy chords and promises of pleasure. In the second verse, Jacob’s hand moves from mine to my bare thigh. My eyes flutter closed and my head falls back on the headrest, my senses heightened, the touch of his hand on my skin like an electrical pulse.

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