Page 10 of Handling Skylar
“I’d say you’ve got gumption—in spades. You all right?” His voice had dropped an octave and did funny things to my insides.
“You really are a very nice man,” I said, thinking he was isolated and lonely, bitterness often in his eyes and in his demeanor. What caused this in him? I wanted to know. I wanted to help. “I bet a lot of people don’t know that about you.”
He leaned in and said softly, “Don’t spread it around.” Man he had the thickest lashes and the most unique eyes, the rough stubble on his jaw so damned enticing.
I looked up at him. “It’ll be our secret,” I whispered back falling into his seductive gaze.
I didn’t really know what I was doing here. He was still with Anna Kate but heavily flirting with me. I couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. It wasn’t in my nature to take someone else’s man. But, on the other hand, Anna Kate didn’t really have a hold over him if he was acting this way toward me. He struck me as a man who was a little lost, but pretending he knew what the heck he was doing. I had been there once, maybe was still stumbling around a bit. Jake needed…solace, care, warmth. Not many words I would associate with that selfish, shallow, cold fish of a woman.
But the matter still remained he came from prime stock in this town, and I was a former cowgirl with jail time on my record. He wasn’t shallow. There was much too much depth in those silvery eyes, but the man knew how to dress. He somehow managed to be casually polished and rugged as hell at the same time. If I cared about things like that, I’d have felt downright shabby whenever he was nearby, with my beat up boots and whimsical style.
Feeling shaky, like I was setting myself up for the biggest heartache in my life, I pulled back with effort. The bottom line was that Jake thought he needed Anna Kate, and that thought made me sad. “I should really be going. I’ve got work tomorrow. All I have to do is find Jordan, she’s my ride.”
“Can I offer you a lift?”
“Are you sure about that? I don’t see Jordan.”
“What kind of Southern gentleman would I be if I left a lady to fend for herself?”
I laughed, unable to get away from all that intense charm. “All right. You can drive me if only to play to your traditions.”
I met River’s eyes briefly as we headed for the front of the town hall and her look was pleased. I wasn’t quite sure where this would go with Jake, but I still was determined to leave it all in his hands. I knew what I wanted.
As we rounded the end of the building and hit the parking lot, I saw his sleek toy gleaming under the lights.
He opened the door for me. “Thank you,” I murmured, not feeling as playful now that this tension between us had upped into a tighter knot.
He settled in the driver’s seat and turned the powerful engine over and it rumbled through me. I looked over at him. “On a night like this with this beautiful convertible, you’re going to leave the top up?”
“Won’t it mess with your hair?”
“What? I’d gladly look like a windblown wreck to feel the breeze and have the utter freedom of rushing through the night. There’s nothing like it, well, except maybe on the back of a horse.” And, making love to Jake. I’m cotton-picking sure that would feel utterly wonderful.
As if he read my mind, his eyes lingered on mine as he pressed the button to retract the top. The hood whirred as it folded neatly behind us. He said, “Strap in and hang on.”
The powerful car accelerated, only adding to the fierce rush in my belly. The road stretched out before us like a ribbon, flat and snaking around canebrakes and copses of trees, skipping over fingers of Lazy Rabbit Bayou where I lived in a restored idyllic Creole cottage. Driveways to plantations blinked past, and the countryside grew wilder with every second.
“Take the next right,” I said over the roaring wind as it did whip the unsecured strands of my hair around my face like a silken cyclone. It was so worth it as I reached up and grabbed as much as I could to tame it.
The car slowed to take the turn onto my roughly paved road, lined with gorgeous magnolias. The big-bodied natives resembling green dinosaurs scattered across the landscape. Their large, thick, evergreen foliage and waxy leaves slowly danced with each puff of air. Old, mature specimens cloaked in Spanish moss and icons to the South. These were at the very end of their blooming cycle, the white flowers saucer-shaped, the lane still redolent with their lemony-sweet scent. “Straight ahead,” I leaned over and shouted into Jake’s ear, the heat and scent from his big body enticing me to drift closer, but I resisted.
“Nice place,” he shouted back as he slowed even more, the insect and night racket now deafening as the wind died down.
With the settlement from the insurance company for my parents’ property, I netted a substantial amount even after the bank was satisfied. It allowed me to purchase this beautiful antebellum Cajun cottage and renovate and open the Blue Coyote Spa.
“I could have had something built from modern materials and settled quite comfortably into the place, but when I saw this house,” a medium-sized, nearly square dwelling with a front porch and a screened in back porch and high-pitched tin roof, “I was intrigued. When I had the opportunity to view it, I was lost, hooked and fell completely in love with the big rooms, tall ceilings and the porches…nuff said there.” We passed my wisteria engulfed mailbox, the pea-shaped flowers hanging in thick clusters of violet and pink, giving off a delicate fragrance and adding to the romantic atmosphere of my beautiful front yard. Boone Outlaw and his very talented partner Savannah Finnegan had transformed it.
As soon as Jake stopped the car, he got out,- and I realized he was going to open my door for me. That made me smile, and when he pulled the door open, he was quite aware of why I was smiling. The trouble was he didn’t move and there was barely any room to get by him, but I think he was okay with that. I was crowded to the side of the car while he enveloped me in his warm, male scent.
“This place is as pretty and charming as you are, Sky.”
I had to take a deep breath because in all the time I had known Jake, he’d kept his distance, been polite, but cool. I wondered what had changed. Why was he flirting with me? Was there a hidden agenda here, and was I playing a part?
“Are you flirting with me, Jake Sutton, when you have an almost fiancée sewn up and ready for white and a walk down the aisle?
“She is at that and you’re easy to flirt with. Never any pressure.”
“You’ve had enough of that I’d say to last a lifetime.”
