Again, I looked toward Jake. Against my side, his muscles were tense. Still, when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly easy. "You wanna go with him?" he asked.

  I felt my brow wrinkle. Did he want me to leave? I didn't think so, but I had to be realistic. How long could I really hang out here? I bit my lip and gave it some thought.

  I was still thinking when Jake stood. "So you wanna go?" he said.

  I did a double-take. "That's not what I'm saying." Slowly, I got to my feet. I moved close to him and lowered my voice. "Can we talk about this?" I gave Bishop a sideways glance. "In private?"

  Jake turned to his brother. "You heard her," Jake said. He flicked his head toward the door. "Get out."

  I gave Jake an exasperated look. "That's not what I meant." I looked to Bishop. "Can't you just step out on the balcony or something?" I returned my gaze to Jake and said in a hushed whisper, "Or maybe you and I could go talk in the bedroom?"

  Across from us, Bishop made a sound of disgust.

  I whirled toward him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Bishop eyed Jake with obvious disapproval. "Nothing."

  My gaze narrowed. "You meant something." With a sigh of frustration, I turned to Jake. When I saw him, I caught my breath. His body was rigid, and his eyes were blazing. But he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at his brother.

  When Jake spoke, his voice was almost scary. He took a slow step toward Bishop. "Get the fuck out."

  Bishop didn't move. "You gonna make me?"

  Jake took another step toward him. "If it comes to that."

  "Oh for God's sake," I muttered. I turned to Bishop. "Just go. Alright?"

  "You heard her," Jake said. "She's staying. You're leaving. Alone."

  Bishop still didn't move, and he didn't speak. He gave me a penetrating look, and the silence became deafening. Slowly, he turned his gaze on Jake. Around us, the tension grew so thick I could hardly breathe.

  Desperate to end the standoff, I blurted out, "Know what I need?"

  Both guys turned to look at me.

  "What?" Jake asked.

  "Um…" Oh crap. I didn't actually have an answer. My gaze bounced around the penthouse and landed on the open kitchen. "Waffles." I gave a vigorous nod. "Yup. Waffles. Definitely. With bacon. And uh, extra butter."

  For a long moment, no one said anything. Jake glanced toward the kitchen.

  But it was Bishop who first spoke. "Not a problem," he said. "We'll hit a breakfast place on the way back."

  "Actually," I said, "I meant homemade waffles."

  Bishop turned toward Jake. "You cook?" Bishop said.

  "Sure, he does," I said. "He's really good at it too." One time, I'd seen Jake roast a hot dog at the beach. That counted for something, right?

  Bishop was still giving Jake that dubious look. "Right," Bishop said.

  "So, uh, anyway," I told Bishop, "you probably should get going."

  He pulled his gaze from Jake. "Is that so?" he said.

  "Yeah." I summoned up a smile. "But hey, you know what you should do?"

  Next to me, Jake muttered, "Go fuck himself?"

  I gave Jake an annoyed look. "No," I said with more patience than I felt. "He should get some waffles to go." I turned back to Bishop. "You know that breakfast place you were talking about? You could swing by on the way back, and maybe get a bag of them or something."

  Bishop's eyebrows furrowed. "A bag. Of waffles."

  "Or whatever they put them in," I said. "Jeez. You could surprise Selena. You know, she's not a morning person, so, uh, she'd probably really like that."

  From the look on Bishop's face, he wasn't in a waffly mood. "You want me to leave?" he said. "Is that's what you're saying?"

  Jake stepped forward. "It's what I'm saying. Except I don't give a shit whether you pick up waffles or not."

  I whirled toward him. "Shush!"

  His eyebrows lifted. "Shush?"

  "Or whatever," I said. I turned back to Bishop. "Don't forget the bacon," I said. "And extra butter. Selena really likes butter. You know that, right?"

  With something like a sigh, Bishop reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, along with a small white business card. He scribbled something onto it and held the card out in my direction. I reached out and took it. I squinted down to look. On the card, I saw nothing but a barely legible phone number.

  "Anything happens," Bishop said, "you call me. I'm two hours away. But I'll be here in half that time."

  I stared up at him. "What? How?"

  "What dickhead is trying to say," Jake said, "is that he thinks speed limits are optional." Jake turned to Bishop. "If she needs anything," Jake told him, "she'll be calling me. Not you. Now for the last time, get out."

  I looked from brother to brother, trying to understand the dynamics of their relationship. I had siblings of my own, including a couple of younger brothers. I knew things could get complicated sometimes, but their level of animosity was totally foreign to me.

  With a sound of disgust, Bishop turned to give me his full attention. "See you in a couple days," he said.

  "What?" I said. "What's going on in two days? Is there a wedding shower or something?"

  Wordlessly, Bishop he turned toward the door and started walking.

  "Hey," I called after him. "Just answer the question."

  At the door, Bishop finally stopped. Slowly, he turned around. "You want the answer?" he said. "Ask Jake." And with that, he opened the door, strode out, and shut it, hard, behind him.

  I whirled toward Jake. "What did he mean by that?" I asked. "Do you know?"

  "Eh, he's a dick," Jake said. "He didn't mean anything."

  I stared up at him. "You're lying," I said. "I can tell."

  Jake's gaze shifted toward the door. "Forget it," he said. "He doesn't know what he's talking about." Returning his gaze to mine, he reached for my hand. As if shaking off the gloom, he gave me a crooked smile and said, "Waffles, huh?"

  Chapter 43

  As it turned out, he didn't have waffles, or even a waffle-maker. But he did have bacon, orange juice, and pancake mix. Together in his gourmet kitchen, we whipped up stacks of pancakes and bacon, fried up extra-crispy. Carrying it all to his dining room, we ate looking out over the riverfront skyline.

  Funny, I'd known Jake for years. And yet, except for occasional snack food, I'd never eaten with him. Glancing out the window, I felt myself smile. I was doing a lot of new things with him.

  Soon, I wanted to do some of those things again. My stomach fluttered. Maybe after breakfast.

  "You have a killer smile," Jake said. "Anyone ever tell you that?"

  "Me?" I returned my gaze to Jake, who looked sinfully tousled in the early morning light. "Not lately," I said. "But—" I made a show of hesitating. "—Wait a minute, you don't mean like a serial-killer smile, do you?"

  He gave me a speculative look. "Now that you mention it…"

  "Hey," I said, "I can assure you, I'm mostly sane." I took a tiny sip of my orange juice. "Or at least, that's what the voices tell me."

  Before making breakfast, Jake had thrown on a black T-shirt to go with his black running pants. He looked fabulous, of course, but he would've looked even more fabulous without the shirt. I had the teeniest regret that he was wearing a shirt at all. Embarrassingly, I'd always fantasized about someday having breakfast with him half-naked.

  I couldn't really blame him though. The shirt was my own fault. When he'd started frying up the bacon, I'd practically forced him to put on more clothes – and not only to keep myself from pouncing on him.

  Mostly, I was worried about all that hot bacon grease. One wrong move, and any exposed skin would be in serious danger. Jake might not care. But I did, and not just for superficial reasons.

  There was something about him that touched my heart. I couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever looked out for him, really looked out for him. Knowing what little I did of his family, I seriously doubted it.

  "Wanna know what the voices tell me?" Jake said.

  "What?" I asked.

  "That we need to go shopping."

  "For what?" I asked.

  He glanced down at my makeshift outfit. I was wearing the same clothes I'd borrowed from his closet. "I've gotta replace your stuff," he said.

  "What do you mean you've got to replace it?"

  "Only fair," he said, "since I lost it."

  "Yeah, but I borrowed your T-shirt last night," I said. "And it got ripped. So I guess we're sort of even."

  "That was only one shirt," he said. "And I ripped it, not you."

  At the memory, I felt myself blush. I lowered my voice. "Can I confess something?"

  "You'd better."

  "I really liked that."

  He gave me a slow, intimate smile. "Yeah?"

  I swallowed and felt myself nod. "Of course, you wouldn't want to do that all the time. I mean, think of the clothes you'd go through."

  "Or," Jake said, "think of the fun you'd have."

  I laughed. "Well, there is that."

  "About your stuff," he said, "let me replace it. I'll feel bad if I don't."

  The offer was shamefully tempting. Obviously, Jake could afford it. And I couldn't. But something about the idea didn't seem quite right. "Oh come on," I said. "That really wasn't your fault."

  "Well, it sure as hell wasn't yours," he said.

  "And," I continued, "who knows? My stuff might turn back up." I hesitated. "Eventually."

  "If you believe that," Jake said, "I've got a bridge to sell you somewhere."

  I leaned forward. "Really? How much are you asking?"

  "I dunno." He downed the rest of his orange juice. "How much you got?"

  "Well," I said, looking down at my plate, "I do have this last piece of bacon…"

  "Done." He reached across the table and speared the bacon with his fork.

  I stifled a laugh. "Hey!"

  He hesitated. "So, uh, you want it?"

  "Oh, never mind." I rolled my eyes. "Take it, take it. Please."

  He popped the bacon into his mouth and grinned over at me. "Sucker."

  He looked so boyish that I had to smile. "Jeez," I said. "Guys and their meat." Instantly, my face grew warm at the obvious implication. "Uh, forget I said that."

  "Not a chance," he said.

  It felt good to joke around with him again. Somehow, the last twenty-four hours had been way too serious for my liking and probably for his too. Bishop's visit hadn't helped. But somehow, the act of making breakfast together had eased most of the tension, and I felt oddly content.

  It was Sunday morning, and I was with an amazing guy in an amazing place. The previous night, I'd had the best sex of my life, and was eating my second-favorite breakfast food.

  At this instant, life was good. I blew out a breath. But tomorrow was Monday. Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze from Jake and looked out the window, taking in the cityscape. What I really needed was a job. Actually, I needed two jobs, given the fact I had no clothes, no furniture, and no place to live.

  To replace everything I'd lost, one job would never be enough.

  Half of me wanted to give Jake hell for everything he'd cost me, especially on the job front. I still had no idea what he'd been thinking. But then, there was that other half of me. That half wanted to drag Jake to the bedroom and forget the real world existed at all.

  When I returned my gaze to Jake, he was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. If I didn't know any better, I'd have said he looked content. But Jake was never content – not fully anyway, not for as long as I'd known him.

  But then again, he did just have bacon.

  Recalling the piece he'd swiped from me, I gave him a stern look. "You still owe me a bridge," I said.

  "Alright," he said. "If they have one at the mall, it's yours. I'll add it to the other stuff I owe you."

  "Seriously," I told him, "you don't need to do that."

  "I know," he said. "But let me anyway. Alright?"

  I bit my lip. "I dunno."

  "Come on," he said, reaching for my hand. "It'll be fun. I always wanted to go shopping with a beautiful girl."

  I looked heavenward. "Now you're just sucking up."

  "Yeah." He gave my hand a squeeze. "But it doesn't mean it's not true."

  "Oh get real," I said. "No guy wants to shop. Not really."

  "Why not?" he said. "I can watch you try on stuff." Slowly, he rubbed his thumb against my palm. "Later, if I'm lucky, maybe I'll get to watch you take it off."

  Instantly, my temperature shot up several degrees. "Okay, now you're just being unfair," I said.

  "Yeah? How so?"

  "How is any girl supposed to resist that?"

  "Luna," he said, his voice softening, "you're not just any girl."

  I swallowed. "I'm not?"

  His gaze dipped to my lips. "No. You're not."

  Just when I started to feel all warm and fuzzy, he added. "You're a smart-ass. And bratty as hell." His voice grew lower. "And so sweet that I want to drag you away and corrupt the shit out of you."

  Oh wow. My lips suddenly felt way too dry. Without thinking, I brushed my tongue against my upper lip and managed to croak out, "You do?"

  He nodded.

  I glanced toward the bedroom. "Just so you know," I said, "you could corrupt me now if you really wanted to."

  A slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah?"

  I felt myself nod.

  He pushed away from the table. "Now, you did it," he said.

  I blinked innocently up at him. "Did what?"

  "Here," he said, "let me show you."

  And so he did, right there in the dining room. By the time we finished, I was too blissful to argue about anything – not about shopping, not about my lost jobs, and not about the fact I knew all of this was temporary.

  Soon, I'd be leaving. And he'd go back to whatever – or whoever – he was doing. The idea made me just a little sick to my stomach, but I wasn't a fool. So I kept telling myself that only a real fool would give up the chance to enjoy this for whatever it was.

  The way it looked, Jake was enjoying himself too. It was a win-win.

  Right?

  A couple hours later, we were showered, dressed, and ready to hit the mall. Jake was wearing dark slacks and a charcoal dress shirt that made him look half-dangerous and all delicious.

  If I didn't love looking at him, I might have felt outclassed, given what I was wearing. Short of clothing options, I'd thrown on the same yoga pants and long-sleeved shirt that I'd purchased with Bianca.

  More than the thing at the museum, the upcoming shopping excursion was feeling more like an actual date, and I felt surprisingly jittery. I knew it was silly. After everything we'd done in the last twenty-four hours, a simple trip to the mall was hardly anything to be nervous over.

  And yet, I was nervous, even if I was determined not to show it.

  I was just lacing up my new black tennis shoes, when I heard the sound of a key card in the front door. I froze. So did Jake. A moment later, the door flew open, and there she stood – Bianca.

  Chapter 44

  Together, Jake and I stood looking at her. Bianca was dressed in high red heels and a skimpy red dress that was way too sexy for a chilly Sunday morning. She threw back her shoulders and said, "Alright. Where is it?"

  Jake gave her a cold look. "Where's what?"

  "My dress." She looked toward me. "You told me to pick it up today. Remember?"

  "Yeah. I guess," I said. "But honestly? I didn't think you'd actually do it."

  She pursed her lips. "And why is that?"

  "Well, for starters," I said, "because I haven't had a chance to get it cleaned or anything."

  Next to me, Jake's gaze zoomed in on the key card, still in Bianca's hand. "Forget the dress," he said. "Where'd you get that?"

  "You gave it to me," she said. "Remember?"

  His jaw tightened. "No."

  "Well, you did," she said. "I don't know why you're acting all surprised about it. I used it just last night." Bianca turned toward me. "Or didn't you bother to tell him?"

  I turned to Jake. "Oh hey," I said, "Bianca stopped by last night."

  "I didn't mean now," Bianca said. "I suppose you didn't give him my message either."

  "What message?" I asked.

  With a long-suffering sigh, she turned to Jake and said, "I'm terminating our arrangement."

  I stared at her. "You never gave me that message."

  "Yes, I did," she said. "I told you that I'm working for Vince Hammond now. Remember him? The guy you were drooling over last night?"

  "Oh please," I said. "I was not."

  "Whatever." Again, she turned to Jake. "I'll be sending you my final invoice. And you know what? Forget the dress. I'll add it to the bill."

  "Wait a minute," I said. "Didn't he already pay for that dress?"

  She turned to give me a little smirk. "Well, he sure paid for yours. Didn't he?" A nasty edge crept into her voice. "Tell me. Did he get his money's worth?"

  My face grew warm. He had paid for my dress. And if she was talking about sex, he did, in fact, get his money's worth. But so did I, a few times over, in fact. But that hardly seemed the point.

  Either way, the reminder still stung. It didn't help that Jake and I were literally on our way out the door to do even more shopping. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all. What was I, anyway?

  "Bianca," Jake said in a barely controlled voice. "Whatever you wanna say to me, go ahead, say it. But you're not dragging Luna into this."

  "Well isn't that sweet," she said.

  I looked from Bianca to Jake. Obviously, they had a history together. And obviously, that history extended well beyond their business relationship. "Come to think of it," I said, "I just remembered that, uh, I need to call my sister." I gestured toward the guest room. "I'll just, uh, be in there."

  "Hang on," Jake said. "I'll walk you."

  "Oh for heaven's sake," Bianca said, "it's just down the hall."

  Jake gave her a cold look. "Or," he said, "you can get the fuck out now. Your choice."

  "Fine," she muttered. "I'll wait."

  Feeling slightly ridiculous, I started heading toward the guest room with Jake beside me. When I opened the door to the guest room and walked inside, he followed after me and shut the door behind him.

 

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