liking the sound of that. He’d never spent a lot of time in self-examination. Usually the women he spent time with were after only what he was—an enjoyable evening. He knew now that Bella didn’t fall into that category. Hell, maybe he’d known it back then, too, instinctively. He just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.
“You’re not going to do that to her again,” Kevin told him.
“I don’t usually take orders.”
“Consider it a suggestion.”
“Don’t like them, either.” Jesse braced his elbows on the table and watched Kevin carefully. There was no temper there, no outraged, jealous anger. Just concern. Maybe he was simply Bella’s friend. And if so, then he couldn’t really blame the guy for looking out for her. But that was Jesse’s job now. If she needed protecting, he’d be doing it. What was between Jesse and Bella was nobody else’s business. “I’m not asking your permission for anything.”
Surprisingly, Kevin laughed. “Oh, hell, no. Man, Bella would kill me if she even knew I was talking to you.”
Jesse smiled, but there wasn’t much humor in the expression. “So why are you?”
He stood up, laid some money beneath his coffee cup and said, “Bella’s not like the kind of woman you’re used to. She’s real. And she’s breakable.”
Jesse stood up, too, and slid a ten-dollar bill beneath his own cup in the same motion. “I’m not trying to break her.”
“That’s the problem,” Kevin said with a shrug. “A guy like you can break a woman without even trying.”
He left then and Jesse watched him go. A guy like you. What the hell did that mean? Was he so different from other men? He didn’t think so. As for Bella—he wasn’t looking to break her and damn if he would. Jesse wanted her. So Jesse would have her.
“Oh, for God’s sake, stop checking the mirror,” Bella muttered to herself even as she looked into the glass and smoothed her hands over her hair. She’d been ready for a half hour and had spent the extra time checking and rechecking her reflection.
“Very helpful,” she said to the foolish woman looking back at her. Her hair was fine, loose and wavy, hanging down around her shoulders. She wore a black, floor-length skirt and a red blouse with short sleeves and a scooped neckline. The tops of her breasts showed, which made her a little uncomfortable. She stared at that for a minute and thought seriously about changing her shirt.
After all, it was mostly due to Jesse that she’d stopped wearing tight or revealing clothes three years ago. Was she crazy to stroll into the lion’s lair looking like a steak?
“Probably,” she answered her own silent question, then hissed out an impatient breath and stalked out of the small bathroom, snapping the light off as she went. That’s it. She wasn’t going to spend one more minute worrying about what she was wearing or how she looked. Despite what Jesse had said in the store that afternoon, this wasn’t a date. This was dinner. And a bet she had no intention of losing.
When the doorbell rang, she jumped, startled, then grumbling under her breath, headed for the front door. It didn’t take long. Her house was small. An old beach cottage, with one bedroom, a tiny bathroom, a serviceable kitchen and a living room only big enough to hold her worktable, a love-seat-size couch and one chair. There were built-in bookcases, though, and room for a TV and stereo. It was small, but it was hers and she loved it, since it was the first real home she’d ever had.
She glanced around, making sure everything was tidy before she opened the door. Jesse stood on her small front porch lined with terra-cotta pots bursting with petunias, pansies and marigolds. The spicy scent of the flowers filled the sultry night air and rushed into her lungs as she inhaled sharply with her first sight of him.
He looked…edible.
His dark blond hair was a little long, hanging over the collar of his white, long-sleeved dress shirt. The collar was open, displaying just a bit of his tanned chest. He wore black slacks, black shoes and a smile that was designed to tempt angels out of heaven.
“You look nice,” he said, his gaze resting just a little bit longer than necessary on her breasts. “Are you ready?”
Bella’s stomach swirled with nerves that she tried to believe would fade away. But one look into Jesse’s eyes assured her that the nervous feeling in her stomach was only going to get worse. All she had to do, she told herself, was to stay strong. Sure, she thought as his gaze locked on hers, no problem.
“Probably not,” she admitted with a shrug, “but let’s go anyway.”
He laughed softly. “That’s the spirit!”
Bella had to smile despite the butterflies still swarming in her stomach. Then she turned, picked up her purse and keys and stepped onto the porch beside him. He closed the door behind her, took her hand in his and said softly, “I’ve been waiting three years for tonight.”
Jesse’s house was, naturally, gorgeous. Bella knew it would be from the moment he steered his sports car up a winding driveway to a house that seemed to be perched on top of a hill. It was.
It was also the first shock of the evening.
“It’s a ‘green’ house?” she asked, as they walked toward the front door.
“Right down to the bamboo floors and the recycled glass windows,” he told her, grinning at the stunned bemusement on her face. “The builders use concrete. Good insulation, less steel needed for reinforcement and the foundations are easier to lay with less of an impact on the land and—” He broke off, staring at her. “What?”
Bella shook her head. She simply couldn’t believe this. He was…more green than she was.
The house was designed to look like an old adobe Spanish-style home. It was surrounded by flowering bushes and dozens of trees. There were solar panels on the roof and wide windows overlooked the ocean, and even the front door looked…rustic.
“I don’t believe this,” she whispered.
He grinned even more widely. “Surprised? Maybe even…shocked?”
She snapped her head up and stared at him. He’d tricked her neatly because he had to know she never would have believed that he was so environmentally conscious. Why, he was the destroyer and pillager of historic districts. He was the man who was personally turning her beloved hometown into a cookie-cutter community.
And he had jute welcome mats.
Oh God.
She was really in trouble now.
“You set me up, didn’t you?”
“You set yourself up, Bella,” he said, laughing as he opened the door and ushered her inside. “You assumed you knew everything about me and you were willing to bet on it.”
“But you let me,” she countered, sweeping past him into the house. Just as she’d thought. It was even more perfect inside than out. Dammit.
“Hell, yes, I let you,” he said, chuckling low in his throat so that it sounded like a rumbling freight train.
“You
