not the kind of guy who kisses and tells. The women I’ve dated, fake or otherwise, kind of liked that.”
I smiled. “Have you ever fake dated before me?” I meant it as a joke, but it suddenly dawned on me that I wished I hadn’t had to use the word “fake.” I liked him, really liked him. Even this few minutes in the truck with him had been enjoyable.
“Slow down.” He interrupted my thoughts. “See that mailbox on the right? Turn on that road.”
I did what he asked, and we ended up on a very bumpy dirt road. It took all my concentration to keep the truck from sliding off to the right or left. “This is quite a ride,” I said as we hit a particularly rough spot that nearly rammed both our heads into the roof of the truck.
“Yeah, I keep meaning to get it paved. It’s on my list.”
I was about to tell him he needed to move it to the top of his priorities when we came into a clearing, and I saw Jake’s house for the first time.
Holy crap.
CHAPTER 11
I’m not sure what kind of place I expected Jake to live in, maybe a bachelor apartment with the requisite black leather couch, empty fridge, and big screen television.
I never imagined his home would be a two-story colonial in the middle of forty acres. “Wow,” I said as we pulled up in the circular driveway. Large white columns supported the front entry, and a wraparound porch circled the house. “This is beautiful. And looks turn of the century. Is it your family home?”
It dawned on me that I knew close to nothing about this man’s personal life. I mean, I knew that if I had to go into battle, I’d want him on my side, and that he took great care of us, but nothing much more than that.
“No. It was my wife’s home.” He opened the door and jumped out.
His wife’s?
I followed him up the path to the front entry. “I didn’t know you were married.”
He pushed some buttons on the door lock and let himself in. “Yep. College sweetheart. She died four years ago. Cancer.”
Now I felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry.”
“It happened fast. I was on assignment in the Middle East.” That must have been when he worked for the CIA. “Her mother called the agency and left a message. By the time I got home, she only had a week left. Brain cancer. Three weeks from diagnosis to death. Damn disease.” Taking his keys from my hands, he put them on a round entryway table.
“I must be tired. I never talk about that. She loved this place and was restoring it while I was away. I promised her I’d finish it someday, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”
I decided to move to a new, hopefully less painful subject. “Probably cuz ya work a hundred hours straight.” I patted his back. “I’m going to make you a quick meal. Why don’t you take a shower?”
“Do I smell?” He sniffed his underarm.
Such a man thing to do, and it made me laugh. “No. I just thought it might help you relax.”
“You don’t have to do this. I know you have to be tired, too. You’re the reason I’ve been working so much.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know. Don’t make me feel guiltier than I already do. Point me to the kitchen.”
We were at the base of a split staircase. “Take the hallway to the left, and it’s the last door. I’ll be down in a minute.”
I peeked in the various rooms as I walked down the hall. What had been the parlor had been turned into a beautiful family room in earth tones, a peaceful retreat for a busy couple. The dining room was attached, but the renovations hadn’t been completed there. There were paint patches on the wall as if someone couldn’t figure out the color, and there wasn’t a stick of furniture.
I stared at the colors on the wall for a minute and decided the iced mocha would be the best choice to go with in the family room. My instincts were confirmed when I walked into the kitchen.
His wife must have gutted the room and rebuilt it from top to bottom, though she kept the charm of the place with whitewashed
I smiled. “Have you ever fake dated before me?” I meant it as a joke, but it suddenly dawned on me that I wished I hadn’t had to use the word “fake.” I liked him, really liked him. Even this few minutes in the truck with him had been enjoyable.
“Slow down.” He interrupted my thoughts. “See that mailbox on the right? Turn on that road.”
I did what he asked, and we ended up on a very bumpy dirt road. It took all my concentration to keep the truck from sliding off to the right or left. “This is quite a ride,” I said as we hit a particularly rough spot that nearly rammed both our heads into the roof of the truck.
“Yeah, I keep meaning to get it paved. It’s on my list.”
I was about to tell him he needed to move it to the top of his priorities when we came into a clearing, and I saw Jake’s house for the first time.
Holy crap.
CHAPTER 11
I’m not sure what kind of place I expected Jake to live in, maybe a bachelor apartment with the requisite black leather couch, empty fridge, and big screen television.
I never imagined his home would be a two-story colonial in the middle of forty acres. “Wow,” I said as we pulled up in the circular driveway. Large white columns supported the front entry, and a wraparound porch circled the house. “This is beautiful. And looks turn of the century. Is it your family home?”
It dawned on me that I knew close to nothing about this man’s personal life. I mean, I knew that if I had to go into battle, I’d want him on my side, and that he took great care of us, but nothing much more than that.
“No. It was my wife’s home.” He opened the door and jumped out.
His wife’s?
I followed him up the path to the front entry. “I didn’t know you were married.”
He pushed some buttons on the door lock and let himself in. “Yep. College sweetheart. She died four years ago. Cancer.”
Now I felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry.”
“It happened fast. I was on assignment in the Middle East.” That must have been when he worked for the CIA. “Her mother called the agency and left a message. By the time I got home, she only had a week left. Brain cancer. Three weeks from diagnosis to death. Damn disease.” Taking his keys from my hands, he put them on a round entryway table.
“I must be tired. I never talk about that. She loved this place and was restoring it while I was away. I promised her I’d finish it someday, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”
I decided to move to a new, hopefully less painful subject. “Probably cuz ya work a hundred hours straight.” I patted his back. “I’m going to make you a quick meal. Why don’t you take a shower?”
“Do I smell?” He sniffed his underarm.
Such a man thing to do, and it made me laugh. “No. I just thought it might help you relax.”
“You don’t have to do this. I know you have to be tired, too. You’re the reason I’ve been working so much.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know. Don’t make me feel guiltier than I already do. Point me to the kitchen.”
We were at the base of a split staircase. “Take the hallway to the left, and it’s the last door. I’ll be down in a minute.”
I peeked in the various rooms as I walked down the hall. What had been the parlor had been turned into a beautiful family room in earth tones, a peaceful retreat for a busy couple. The dining room was attached, but the renovations hadn’t been completed there. There were paint patches on the wall as if someone couldn’t figure out the color, and there wasn’t a stick of furniture.
I stared at the colors on the wall for a minute and decided the iced mocha would be the best choice to go with in the family room. My instincts were confirmed when I walked into the kitchen.
His wife must have gutted the room and rebuilt it from top to bottom, though she kept the charm of the place with whitewashed
Similar Books
