linoleum will do that every time.”
“I agree. So, how about we eat something fast so we can get out of this room just as fast?”
“A brilliant plan, Captain. What would you like?”
He gave a soft, sexy laugh. She blushed again and he drew her even closer and kissed her.
“I’m serious, Jacob.”
“So am I,” he said, and kissed her again.
The kiss went on for a long, lovely time. Then Addison stepped out of his arms and opened the fridge.
“Let’s see—I have some cheese….”
“Excellent. I’ll make us those fried cheese sandwiches.” When she looked over her shoulder at him, he raised his eyebrows. “What?” he said innocently. “You’re not in the mood for fried cheese?”
“Tell me you made that up.”
“It’s an old Wilde recipe.”
“I bet your sisters would disagree.”
“Well, okay, it’s an old Wilde Bunch recipe.”
She laughed. “You, Caleb and Travis? The Wilde Bunch, huh?”
“That’s what the town called us.” Jake tucked his hands into the rear pockets of his jeans and admired the delightful shape of Addison’s backside as she bent to the bottom shelf. “Although, to be accurate, fried cheese is Trav’s specialty.”
“Thank goodness for small favors,” she said, pushing a couple of small containers aside.
“Mine’s fried hot dogs.”
That brought her upright.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“You northerners are so judgmental.”
“I’m afraid to ask what Caleb contributes to these feasts.”
“Marshmallows. Not fried,” he added quickly. “Charred. You know. In a fire. Crispy on the outside, melted on the inside.”
“Actually, I don’t know.”
“What? You never sat around a campfire and toasted marshmallows?”
“Nope.”
“Ah, honey,” Jake said, with genuine regret, “you missed a lot.”
“Charlie used to say the same thing.” And even as she asked herself why she’d mentioned Charlie, the answer came to her.
It was time to know how Jake felt about Charlie and the ugly gossip.
“Charlie,” Jake said—and he wondered how he’d sounded, saying the name.
Curious? Well, he was.
Any man would be, when a rich guy left a woman a couple of hundred thousand acres of good Texas land, no matter how tumbledown its condition.
Jealous? No. Of course not …
“That’s it? Just ‘Charlie’?”
Addison shut the refrigerator door and turned toward him.
“Charles Hilton.”
Her tone was wary, maybe even defiant. So was the look in her eyes.
Okay. Now Jake knew exactly how he’d sounded.
Like a man biting back a mouthful of jealousy.
“He was my friend.” She waited. “I told you that, remember?”
“Hey. I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Addison. Honey. That’s not fair. I only meant—”
He frowned. Why was he explaining himself? They’d met, what, two days ago? One day ago? He was losing track. She had her own life, just as he had his.
Hell. Be honest, Wilde.
Plain and simple, he wanted to know if she was carrying the torch for a dead guy.
“I meant,” he said slowly, “did you love him?”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? He was my friend. My God, you’re like all the rest, believing what you want to bel—”
Jake cursed, dragged Addison to her toes and kissed her.
Not gently.
Not tenderly.
His kiss was demanding and possessive, and yet so sweet it took her all of a heartbeat to respond to it. Her lips parted; her tongue slid against his. And when he took the kiss deeper, she put her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the feel of him against her.
“I’m sorry, Adoré,” he said. “I believe you. And even if you had loved him—”
“I did love him. Like a father. And he loved me like a daughter.”
Jake nodded. “Good,” he said thickly. “Because I don’t think I could handle his ghost haunting you and this godforsaken ranch.”
There was a silence. Then she gave a soft laugh.
“Jacob. That doesn’t even make sense.”
It made perfect sense to him. Or maybe not. Hadn’t he just told himself that he’d only met this woman a day ago? That he had no claim on her?
More to the point, he didn’t want a claim on her. On anybody.
Why would he, when he was moving on?
“Jake?”
“Yeah.” He expelled a long breath. Stick to the facts, he told himself. Facts were always safe. “So, what kind of guy was he?”
She smiled. “You’d have liked him. He was very down-to-earth.”
“Was he your boss?”
“A colleague, but a thousand times the lawyer I’ll ever be.”
“I’ll bet you’re Clarence Darrow in a skirt.”
She laughed.
“If I’m any good at all, it’s Charlie’s doing. He was my mentor.” She smiled. “I used to call him my hero.”
A muscled flickered in Jake’s temple.
“There are no such things as heroes,” he said, “except in fairy tales.”
Addison
