Page 5 of Breaking the Rules of Love

“Wow, Sadie. This isdelicious.”

My whole body warms up. This is crazy. This man is playing my emotions like a fiddle, and I don’t think he even means to. One single sentence and I’m anxious. Another sentence and I’m all excited and warm.

I can’t remember the last time a man had this kind of power over me—if ever.

“I’m glad you like it.” I smile.

Jake nods. “That’s probably it. Most of what they know comes from bad television orTop Gun.”

“So you were a fighter pilot?” I tease.

“Yup. You got me,” Jake laughs, taking another bite of tart. “Actually, I was just your average grunt. Average Marine. Nothing special.”

“And now?”

Somehow I don’t believe him. Somehow I feel like he’s lying. There’s nothing average about this man. Nothing.

“Private security,” he replies. “Corporate events. Escorting rich people. All that jazz. Pretty boring most of the time.”

“Bet it pays well, though,” I reply, taking my first bite finally. I’m actually relaxed enough now that I’m able to swallow and keep it down. The tart tastes better than I thought it would, considering how distracted I was while making it.

“I do all right for myself.” Jake smiles. “What about you? What do you do? Or what does your husband do?”

For a moment, I’m taken aback, and the expression on my face more than likely shows it. “Myhusband?” I reply indignantly. “What are you implying? That I’m just some gold-digger-stay-at-home housewife who can’t work for herself and just lives off her husband’s money and—”

“Whoa, whoa, easy there,” Jake replies, putting a hand up. “I wasn’t saying all that. But hey, look where we’re living, ya know?”

I frown and purse my lips before answering. He does have a point, I guess. In this neighborhood, most of the women don’t work. Their husbands make enough money that they don’t need to, so they stay at home while he goes out and brings home the bacon.

I don’t begrudge them for it, though, do I? I guess I hadn’t really thought about it until now. Without a husband of my own to provide for me, that’s not even an option. I couldn’t do that if I wanted to.

“Okay, I get your point,” I say. “But no. That’s not me. I have a job.”

Jake looks back at me, waiting for me to go on. But my mind is stuck at a crossroads; either tell Jake the truth and get into a conversation I really don’t want to haveright nowor lie and end up having a conversationlaterthat could potentially be even worse.

But who even knows if we’ll even have that conversation later?

I choose later.

“I’m an accountant,” I lie.

Jake nods. “Is that as boring as it sounds?”

“More,” I laugh.

I’m really hoping he doesn’t ask me any detailed questions about accounting that I can’t answer. I don’t know why that was my first answer, but it was a lot better than telling him I’m a single woman waitress in her thirties who is barely scraping by.

I’m all about impressing him right now, and part of me is worried about that.

My mom would tell me that’s a good sign and that I should be doing everything I can to be locking him down. But that’s not going to happen. Of course, after the last two-years of having an absolute desert between my legs, I sure wouldn’t mind joining him for someotheractivities.

“So Kayla showed you this house?” I ask, trying not to sound too obvious.

“She sure did.” Jake nods. “She’s quite the character. Someone should get her a reality TV show.”

Again that jealousy that I felt when I first saw her pull up in her cherry Benz comes rising back up from within. I nod.

“Yeah, that would be…entertaining,” I reply. “So did she hit on you? I heard she hits on a lot of her male clients.”

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