Page 38 of Work It Out
She rolled her eyes. “Fair. Though that’s no excuse for barging into my bedroom.”
Jake cringed. “He’d already left when I switched rooms last night. He probably came to get me when I didn’t show up. And honestly, I doubt we shut the door.”
She made another growly noise and disappeared into the bathroom. Less than two minutes later the door reopened. Rayah was dressed in a sports bra, crop top, and those leggings that made his mouth water. “I’m not finished in here, but you can come in if you want to brush your teeth or whatever.” She popped her toothbrush in her mouth and proceeded to take her aggression out on her enamel.
He should stop her before she did permanent damage, but he wouldn’t. Better her teeth than his sac. Instead, he slid into the long, narrow room with her and loaded up his own toothbrush. The vanity only boasted one sink. It was strange. As an actor, people saw him half naked all the time, but brushing his teeth with someone else in the room felt strangely intimate. He tried to remember the last time he’d done it and couldn’t.
Too soon, she finished and disappeared. Jake hurried to catch up. But then, if she left him behind, at least he’d have plausible deniability during her trial.
In the driveway, he found her attempting to strangle the wheel of what appeared to be the love child of a clown car and a wind-up toy. Jake opened the driver’s door and held out his hand.
She didn’t even look at him. “You’re not driving. Get in.”
“I don’t want to drive your remote-control car. I want to talk to you about last night before the rest of the world has their say.”
She slumped forward and thunked her head against the steering wheel. “Do we have to?”
“Does anyone realize how shy you are, or do you have them all fooled about that, too?” She peeked at him, and he chuckled. “Come on, cupcake. Be brave.” He held out his hand again.
This time she let him pull her from the car. He maneuvered them so that his back was pressed against the back door and she was plastered to his chest. She snuggled in like it was her favorite place in the world, and didn’t that put a smile on his face?
The sun played peekaboo through the canopy above, dappling them in spots of warmth. From inside the car, her phone chimed again, followed quickly by thepingof his own text message alert. She started to pull away, but he held her against him with one hand, fished his phone out of his pocket with the other, then tossed the stupid thing in the car with hers and slammed the door.
Rayah looked up at him with those warm brown eyes. “What if it’s important?”
“Then they’d better call 911. Anything anyone has to say to us can wait a few minutes.”
She huffed a laugh, then slid her arms around his waist. “We never should’ve left the bed.”
“That I 100 percent agree with.” He stroked a hand over her shoulder and down her back. “This is your call, Rayah. And I don’t mean what we tell people, I don’t give a shit about that. I mean us—if there is an us—and what that looks like. You were upset last night. If I was just a way to make yourself feel better… If you think it was a mistake…” He cleared his throat. “Let’s just say I have no room to judge anybody.”
She leaned back to meet his eyes. “Did it feel like a mistake to you?”
He cradled her cheek in one palm and stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. “Cupcake, last night felt like the first thing I’ve done right in a long damn time.” Her smile as she stretched on tiptoe for his kiss reached right into his chest and squeezed his heart. He still had to meet her more than halfway. It was the easiest concession he’d ever made.
Toothpaste, sunshine, and lemons were an intoxicating combination. One hit and he was addicted. Her slim fingers tunneled into his hair, and he groaned. “Too much more of that and we will be going back to bed.”
The minx grinned. “How about this?” She ran her fingertip in an agonizingly slow trail from the outer edge of his collarbone to the base of his throat, and said ever so sweetly, “I’ll tell Pierce he has to donate his ill-gotten gains to the Christmas fund. And you can punch him in his nosey face for me.”
“I would say I’d punch him for free, but as I remember, you pay in kisses, so…”
She clicked her tongue. “That is a steep price. I guess we’ll do without the violence. For now. But if we sleep together—”
“When,” Jake interrupted. “When we sleep together, it’ll be no one’s business but ours.”
“First, you’re awfully sure of yourself, Newman.” She tossed him an adorable glower. “Second, you’ve been in L.A. too long. You grew up here; you know how this works. Bigbone is a small town, and a weird one at that. Zandar’s probably already telling anyone who’ll listen that you’re one of his people and you probed me to populate the earth with your alien spawn. And seriously, if you see Blaine coming at you with a twitch in his right eye, turn around and run like hell. It might not save you, but it should give me time to jump on him. Of course, if he’s serious about murdering you, you’ll never actually see him coming.” Her brows drew together. “I need to have another talk with him. If he thinks I’ll let him go all dark ops on your ass, he needs to think again.”
He kissed her forehead, took a deep breath, and opened the driver’s door for her. “You should probably do that sooner than later.”
“I suppose.”
He loved that she was as reluctant to rejoin the real world as he was, but he hated to see her so worried. He liked it better when her sass was firmly in place. With that in mind, he strode around, opened the passenger door, and folded himself into the seat pretzel-style. “You know this isn’t a real car, right?”
She stomped on the accelerator and started in on why everyone should drive Matchbox cars. Suddenly, he was glad this thing ran on AA batteries. She could push the pedal through the tin floor of this deathtrap and it wouldn’t go faster than a kiddie carnival ride.
He smiled to himself as she gave him hell about environmental responsibility. At least she wasn’t worrying anymore.
Chapter Twelve
