21. Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-one

Clara

Thomas stuck his head in my office. "You must've done something right."

I huffed, looking up from my computer. This man couldn't just pass me a message and insisted on adding drama to everything.

"Why is that?" I asked, only playing along because he was a damn good assistant and I'd be lost without him. His injection of dramatics also kept my days interesting, but I wouldn't be telling him that.

He walked into my office, carrying a small flower arrangement in a Ball jar and a pink box. "Because these were just delivered for you." He placed them on my desk and put his hands on his hips. "Are you dating and forgot to tell me?"

My heart pitched to a gallop, but I wouldn't allow myself to get too excited. The way I'd left off with Jake last night, I wouldn't be surprised if I never heard from him again.

"They're probably from a client."

"You know, you didn't answer me." He tapped the envelope snuggled between the miniature roses and baby's breath. "That probably says who they're from."

"It probably does." I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat. "But you'll never know."

He rolled his eyes and groaned at the ceiling. "I tell you everything about my dating life."

"Because I'm a captive audience— not because I asked." I grinned at him. This had to be driving him mad. "Besides, they're most likely from one of my managers. Don't excite yourself over nothing."

"Fine. I'll give you privacy, but don't think I didn't notice you not denying they could be from a date. I'm on alert now, Clara."

He stalked out of my office, throwing a dirty look my way before closing my door. As soon as he was out, I plucked the card from the flowers and tore it open.

Clara,

I want a rematch ASAP.

I'll let you win if you wear those jeans again.

Yours,

Jake

I brought a shaky hand to my mouth, surprised to find myself smiling like a fool. I wouldn't have expected Jake to write me flowery, romantic messages. This was his style, and to me, this was nothing but sweet.

Then I opened the pink box, and tears sprung to my eyes. A cookie decorated like a bowling ball with " #1 Champion " written in icing. I'd never been given anything so thoughtful, and that realization took me aback.

I'd been gifted huge, showy bouquets and flashy jewelry. At the time, it had been nice, but looking back, no real thought had been put into them. They were gestures made for other people to see and give Miller pats on the back for being such a loving, giving, wonderful husband.

While Jake…he'd sent this just for me. Our own little joke to make me smile in the middle of my workday. To tell me he was thinking about me and still wanted to see me.

I snapped a picture of myself with the cookie at my lips and sent it to Jake.

Me: Why, Jacob Hayes, I had no idea you could be so adorable!

It didn't take long for him to reply.

Jake: You're calling me adorable when you send me the cutest picture I've ever seen? Christ, woman, I'm trying to work.

Me: Thank you, Jake. I mean it. You really brightened my day.

My ringtone sounded as soon as the text sent. Jake was calling.

I put the phone to my ear. "Hey."

"Hey." His voice sent goose bumps rolling across my skin. "Are you having a bad day, mama?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm just in my head more than I like," I admitted. "Your gifts were exactly what I needed."

There was a brief pause, then, "You were thinking about me? Thinking something you did or said would turn me off?"

I almost laughed at how perceptive he was. "I told you I've never dated, and I put all my baggage at your feet last night. I was wondering if I scared you off."

"You got your answer?"

"Yes." I looked at the little jar of flowers and my oversized cookie. "You like me."

His chuckle was warm and comforting. "I do. Pretty sure you like me too."

"The cookie was a nice touch, but your note kind of pissed me off. You don't need to let me win. I can do that all on my own."

"Wear those jeans again and you sure can."

"Jake…" I sighed as I slid down in my seat like a melted puddle of wax.

"When am I going to see you again?"

"I don't know. I want to see you soon, but we should take this slow…right?"

"Right."

My stomach sank. Deep down, I'd been hoping he'd argue with me on that point.

"Lunch tomorrow," he said. "Do you have the time?"

I laughed. "Is that going slow?"

"Sure. I'm not stealing you away tonight when that's what I want to do."

"I kind of want to be stolen…but I'll wait. I have some bad news, though."

"What's that?"

"I won't be wearing those jeans you like so much."

He inhaled sharply. "That's all right. I like you in those sexy corporate dresses just as much."

I looked down at my staid navy-blue dress. "They're not sexy."

"I guarantee you have not seen yourself from the back in those dresses. Come to think of it, you must not be looking at yourself from the front either."

"Jake…" He kept stealing my ability to speak.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Clara. Wear whatever you want. I have no doubt I'll like you in it."

"Okay," I whispered. "See you tomorrow."

After I hung up, I carefully put my cookie back in the box, unable to bring myself to eat it. I would, eventually. Just…not yet.

Thomas popped his head into my office. "You have a visitor."

Even though I'd known Jake was on his way up since he'd had to check in with security, my stomach fluttered.

I stood up from my desk and smoothed my dress. "You can send him in."

He cupped his hands around his mouth and stage-whispered, "You look really hot today. Don't worry a single bit."

"Put your professional pants on, Thomas."

"They're on. Marc Jacobs." He stuck his long leg out like he was wearing an evening gown with a dramatic slit. "You like?"

My eyes flared. "Thomas."

"Oh, all right." He opened the door wide, switching to his cool, professional tone. "Ms. Rossi will see you now."

Jake thanked him and strode into my office. Thomas pulled the door closed behind him. Not knowing what was going on had to be killing him, but I didn't have time to worry about my assistant.

Walking straight up to me, Jake dug his hands into the sides of my hair and kissed me. My body responded immediately while my brain hurried to catch up. Jake ate at my lips like he'd been starving for them, then his tongue swept in, giving my mouth a thorough licking.

Moaning, I gripped the lapels of his jacket, giving myself over to him. In one fell swoop, he'd rid me of my nerves and doubt. This man had been chomping at the bit to get me in his arms again, and that was a heady, powerful feeling.

Our lips parted, and his forehead rolled on mine. Panting breaths passed back and forth until his fingers loosened in my hair and I let go of his jacket to slide my palms along his shoulders.

"Hey."

His lips touched the corner of my mouth before he pulled back and gave me a long, slow once-over. "Hey, gorgeous. You hungry?"

"I am."

"Then let's go."

Once we left my office, we stayed a respectable distance from each other. Thomas gawked, and I smiled at him. Had my head not been foggy from that kiss, I might have found a task to keep him busy and out of trouble while I was gone.

Jake further distracted me in the elevator, leaning against the wall and checking me out from head to toe.

"Sexy," he stated.

"I'm covered from my neck to my knees," I argued, even though I'd specifically chosen a dress he hadn't seen me in yet. The ruffled sleeves were feminine, and the cut had been tailored immaculately, skimming the outline of my body in the most loving way. The patent belt at my waist nipped me in just right, and the collar, though high, was wide, while the tops of my shoulders and collarbone were bare.

Jake reached out and dragged a fingertip along the skin at the base of my throat. "It's the peeks of what's underneath that makes it sexy. Then again, you could be in a sweat suit and make it work."

"I guarantee you'll never find out if that's true."

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I don't doubt it."

We ended up at a crowded sandwich shop a couple blocks from my office, crammed in a booth barely big enough for us. Our knees tangled beneath the table, and any time either of us moved our hands to pick up our sandwiches or reach for a napkin, we inevitably brushed one another.

"Your assistant is interesting," he remarked between bites.

I snorted a laugh. "He's insubordinate and annoying. I would have fired him a hundred times if he wasn't so good at his job."

"As long as he takes care of you." He put his food down to shrug off his jacket and loosen his tie. Once he was free, he released a long breath. "Out of my costume," he muttered.

"Now you look more like yourself," I mused.

"I don't look good in a suit?"

"Oh, you look incredible, but it doesn't feel like you ."

"Never thought I'd end up working in an office, wearing a suit." He shook his head. "But whose life turns out the way they thought it would when they were young?"

"Not mine," I said dryly. "How did you end up doing what you're doing?"

"Probably the same way you did. Familial obligation. A couple years ago, our grandfather had handed Jeremy the reins, and he'd wanted me by his side when he took over. He'd been raised to run the company while I'd watched from the outside."

"And now you're in an office four days a week instead of a garage or working on a ranch. That must be frustrating."

"It's like wearing a suit—doesn't fit right, but if I stop thinking about it, it's bearable." He picked up his sandwich. "I have to be an adult. Sometimes that means giving up how I thought it was going to be. It's worth it to me to be there for my brother."

"I understand that, probably more than anyone else. It bothers me for you that you have to fit yourself into a mold that's just bearable , though. Seems there are other positions that would better suit you—"

He cut me off. "It is what it is, Clara. I'm not exactly miserable, and Jeremy and I are a team."

There was something he wasn't saying about his relationship with his brother, but we weren't in a place where I could push for answers. Maybe one day he'd open up and explain why he was so adamant he was where he needed to be.

"All right, Jake." My knuckles brushed his. This time, on purpose. "It's funny how our positions are reversed. I've always known I would work at Rossi. Luca had lived in denial. If he had his druthers, he'd be a professional artist and freewheeler."

Jake chuffed. "Wouldn't we all be professional freewheelers?"

"Well"—I folded my hands primly on the table—"not all of us. Some of us were math nerds who grew into business nerds and thrive in a corporate environment."

"Yet Luca's the CEO."

I nodded. "He is, and he's much better at it than I would have been. Despite him raging against the dying of his life free of responsibilities, I always knew he'd thrive in that position. And he does. My brother is incredibly smart and has brought his creative mind to the table. Our shareholders love the hell out of him, and he's made me excited about my job all over again. Plus, you know, I get to see my brother a lot more than before, which has been the best part."

Jake reached across the narrow table and swiped his thumb over my bottom lip. "I like the shape of your mouth when you talk about someone you love."

"That's…I don't know how to respond when you say things like that to me." I bit down on my bottom lip. "That was really nice."

"There you go. You responded."

"I did." I rubbed my warm cheek. "I didn't think I was still capable of blushing."

"Oh, Clara," he rumbled. "If me complimenting you makes you blush, get used to being pink. I say what I think, and these days, I'm thinking a lot about you."

"I am too. Thinking about you, that is."

"Good." His eyes trailed over me. "That's exactly what I want."

Strangely, I believed him.