She liked it.
She didn't want to like it.
But she did.
Interesting choice of restaurant for a date. The place was packed. And loud. Unlike anything Lucy had ever experienced. Entire families ate here, at tables that looked like dark picnic benches. Out of little plastic baskets lined with paper. And they ate with their fingers.
It smelled both sweet and spicy. Warm, and full of laughter. A family restaurant.
She followed Jake to a cafeteria style counter where they slid trays along, telling the person behind the glass what to scoop on their plates. Not knowing what to choose, she relied on Jake's suggestion and ended up with a huge pile of ribs, beans, coleslaw and bread. They grabbed one of the smaller picnic tables and sat.
Okay, now what? Ribs and barbecue sauce, which she was supposed to eat with her fingers. The white sweater she'd chosen was fast looking like a bad choice of attire.
"Are you going to stare at the food all night or are you going to eat it?"
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She looked up at Jake. "Um, how?"
He grinned and shook his head. "Lost without twelve utensils on each side, aren't you, honey?"
"Smartass."
He laughed, clearly not at all insulted. "They're ribs. Pick them up and eat with your fingers."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Everyone gets messy. It's allowed."
He dug into his meal, sauce lined on the sides of his mouth, seemingly unaffected by her dilemma. She couldn't very well try to cut a centimeter-sized piece of meat off the bone, now could she? With as much decorum as she could manage, she picked up a rib and bit into it.
She bit back a moan. Dear God, it was delicious. The meat was tender and fell off the bone into her mouth. The tangy sauce tickled her taste buds with its sweet and spicy flavor, and she found herself devouring the meal. She even licked her fingers. By the time she'd finished and wiped her hands, she looked up and found Jake watching her. Intently.
"What?" she asked, sliding her tongue across her lips in case some barbecue sauce had failed to be swept away by her napkin.
"Don't do that." His gaze never left her mouth.
"Don't do what?"
"Lick your lips like that."
She stopped in the middle of her frantic tongue swiping and looked around. The only person who had an eye on her was Jake. "Why not?"
"It turns me on," he said with a wicked grin.
In an instant her throat went dry and her toes curled in her tennis shoes. "It does?"
"Yeah. Don't you know what a woman licking her lips like that does to a man?"
"Um, no." To the best of her recollection, no man had ever told her she turned him on. Especially not during dinner.
"You want me to tell you what kind of image that conjures up in my mind?"
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Did she ever. She had her own visuals going and wondered if hers would match his.
"No."
Desire flamed hot in his eyes. "You sure?"
No, she wasn't. She was dying to know. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Too bad. You ready to go?"
Since she couldn't indulge her fantasy about licking lips and Jake in this crowded, family style restaurant, she supposed she was ready to leave.
She had never enjoyed a meal so much in her life. No one paid attention to where her napkin sat in her lap, or for that matter if she even had a napkin there. No one raised an eyebrow at the occasional slurp of her soft drink, and no one told her to take her elbows off the table. In fact, she was fairly certain it was a requirement here.
She probably could have burped and not a single soul would have batted an eyelash.
The thought was appalling, yet made her want to giggle.
All in all, the evening hadn't been as bad as she'd anticipated. Granted, they hadn't talked much, but at least she'd survived it. And she hadn't had to make up some lame excuse to cancel out on him. Now he'd take her home, and that would be that.
Except he didn't. They drove a few miles down the road and Jake pulled into a gravel parking lot. The only building was a shack emblazoned with the name Murphy's.
A bar. A tiny little bar no bigger than a one room house.
She glanced at him and he smiled, turning off the ignition. "How about a beer?"
Beer. Now that was something she hadn't had much of in her life. "Okay."
There were only a handful of cars in the parking lot. Several neon signs blinked on and off in the window. Jake grasped the handle of the paint scarred wooden door and held it open for her.
It was completely dark inside, with the exception of a few lights over the bar and single pool table in the middle of the room. A few men sat at the bar watching a baseball game on television, and another two men were playing pool. Everyone turned to look as they walked in.
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She was the only woman in the place. And these guys looked like they hadn't seen a female in years.
"They won't bite," he whispered into her ear and propelled her forward with his hand on the small of her back. "Unless you ask them to."
She shivered, whether from that suggestion or the feel of his palm on her back she wasn't sure. Either way, she felt comforted by Jake's presence. He seemed like the kind of man who could handle himself in a place like this.
He led her to a table in the back of the small room and left to get them drinks. Lucy sat ramrod straight in the hard wooden chair, her hands clasped on the table. Strains of soft oldies music played from the jukebox, and apparently her appearance in the place wore off quickly, because the men ignored her.
Jake returned with two bottles of beer. She sipped the cool liquid, sighing at a long forgotten pleasure. She hadn't had a beer since college.
"Not quite the elegance you're used to, is it?" he asked, arching a brow.
Was this some kind of test? A challenge? She shrugged in response. "It's fine."
He laughed and she bristled, knowing he was having some sort of fun at her expense.
So she wasn't used to eating at barbecue joints and having drinks in a one room bar. That didn't make her a snob.
"Are you having fun?" she asked.
"It's fine," he mimicked.
She let out a huff, knowing she should never have agreed to this date. It was obvious they had nothing in common. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the bar, counting down the minutes until Jake would take her home.
"Why did your dad tell me you had a fiance?"
The question threw her off kilter, and she found herself unable to answer.
"That's okay, you don't have to talk about it. Your fiance has nothing to worry about from me. I promise I won't touch you."
"I don't have a fiance," she answered, twirling her finger over the condensation on the beer bottle. And what did he mean he wouldn't touch her? Was she repugnant? They www.samhainpublishing.com 27
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had seemed to make a connection in the restaurant. She had felt sparks, just as she did at the construction site this morning. Had she been wrong?
"I see. Well, no I don't see, actually. He thinks you have a fiance, but you don't?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Fine."
She looked up at the sound of his clipped tone. Oh, man was he beautiful. Not gorgeous in a male model kind of way. His nose was wide and a touch crooked, and he looked like he needed a shave. Wisps of dark hair fell over his forehead, making her want to sweep them back with her hand. He was rugged. All male. Loaded with testosterone.
Not a pretty boy, not refined, not impeccably tailored. Just a fine looking man. A real man. The kind of man who could literally sweep a woman off her feet. The kind of man a woman would want to grab by the shirt and kiss. Hard.
She felt flutters of arousal at the thought of what
she'd like to do with Jake.
Time to change the subject before her fantasies got out of hand.
"My father wants me to get married," she blurted, then immediately winced. Now why on earth had she said that?
"Why?" He took a long swallow of his beer and leaned back in the chair.
Oh, why not give him something else to make fun of? "He thinks I'm getting older and it's time I settle down."
He offered a wry smile. "You're hardly reaching retirement age. I think you've got a few good years left on the old biological clock, don't you?"
"I'd like to think so."
"Is that the only reason he wants you to get married?"
How much should she tell him? Jake was a stranger and had made it perfectly clear that he was no more interested in her than she was in him. Worse, he made fun of her at every turn. Dare she give him more ammunition?
"There's this man my father thinks would be a good asset for the firm."
"Asset?"
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"Alexander Sheldon. CEO of one of the big law firms in the city. Divorced, multimillionaire, and possibly interested in merging our two companies."
"Company being your family's law firm."
She nodded.
"So you're being bartered."
"No!"
His eyes widened at her shouted denial. She sunk down a little bit in her chair, now having managed to once again capture the attention of the men in there. "It's not like that at all."
"Then tell me what it is like."
"You wouldn't understand."
His eyes narrowed "Why wouldn't I understand? Think I'm too dumb to comprehend the subtle nuances of the rich?"
"Oh, no, that's not what I meant at all." Without thinking, she slipped her hand over his and squeezed. God, she was failing miserably at this date.
He flipped his hand over, twining his fingers with hers. Her stomach dropped to her feet and her heart began to pound. And yet she didn't pull her hand away. He was like a magnet, drawing her ever closer. She liked touching him, and she really liked when he touched her.
Did he feel it too? That spark, like a pleasurable jolt that fired you up on the inside?
She suddenly found it hard to breathe.
"Why can't you just pick your own guy?"
Indeed, why couldn't she? "That's my intention."
"But your dad sees it otherwise."
She pulled her hand away. His touch distracted her, made it hard to think straight.
"My father is an honorable man, a very good man."
"But still, he's trying to control your life. A life you should be able to make decisions for on your own."
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"I can handle my father. When I find the right man, I'll marry." She just needed to keep repeating that same phrase to her father, over and over and over again, hoping that some day it might actually penetrate his stubborn skull.
"Why don't you just get a boyfriend, or a fiance? Get your father off your back?"
If only it were that easy. Of course, actually dating would be a good start. Funny how she never seemed to make time for that. "I will. Some day."
And in the meantime, her father would continually shove Alex at her. She shuddered at the thought.
Like anyone she'd marry would be a business deal, not a love match. And then he had the nerve to suggest that she could do worse than marrying Alex.
"Tell me about this Alexander Sheldon guy," Jake asked.
She smirked. "Alex is the most relentless, vicious lawyer in the city. He's never lost a case and never lets anyone forget it. The man takes egotistical to a new level."
"Mmm, sounds like a great guy." Jake smiled and winked at her.
Lucy rolled her eyes. "Oh, right. According to my father, Alex is perfect. Wealthy, career minded and, of course, from a very reputable family."
Her father hadn't been amused at all when she made the suggestion that he marry Alex if he though Alex was so darn perfect. Under no circumstances would she ever settle for less than complete and utter love. She didn't even like Alex.
"Yeah, I could see how something like that is important to people like you."
Lucy looked up and met his gaze. "What does that mean?"
"Blood ties, lineage and all that. Can't be mixing with the lower class now, can we?"
She felt the sharp bite of his words, knew in some convoluted way he referred to himself.
"To some people, I suppose that's important."
"But it isn't to you."
She met his gaze head on. "Not in the least."
Jake looked down and worked on tearing the label off his bottle of beer. Had she hurt his feelings? Damn if she could figure out how to act in this situation. What a nightmare.
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She longed for the comfort and safety of her house, where she could hide from all the ugly realities of social class and family expectations.
"What about you?" She desperately needed to change the subject. "Don't you have someone in your life?"
His face tightened for an instant. Lucy recognized the look that crossed his face.
She'd seen it enough times when she looked in the mirror. That empty expression, the one that signaled lonely.
"I'm too busy to settle down."
She let out a small laugh. "Now you sound like me."
"But I don't have a father trying to marry me off, either."
She grimaced, hating that they'd gotten back on that subject.
There had to be some way to get her father to let loose of this ridiculous marriage idea. Otherwise, every event she attended she'd be hounded by Alex, and her father.
"Maybe I need to find someone to parade around, let Father think I'm involved," she mumbled to herself.
"Good idea."
"It would have to be someone he didn't know. Otherwise he could manipulate the situation." She drew figure eights in the condensation on the beer bottle.
"Got someone in mind?"
"Not really. He knows everyone I know."
"You could use me."
She snapped her gaze up at him. "Pardon?"
"Use me. To keep your dad from playing matchmaker."
Had she missed a vital part of their conversation? What in the world was he talking about? "I don't understand."
"It's simple. You let your father think you're dating me, and he won't be able to throw this Alex guy at you anymore."
She took a quick gulp of her beer, hoping the cool liquid would melt the lump in her throat. "You want to date me?"
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He laughed. "No. Just help you out. Appearances and all."
This whole night had been a surreal experience. Had she just stepped into some outer dimension? She had to get her mind around the thoughts swirling through her. Her father.
Jake. Alex. It was all too much.
"Why would you want to do that?"
He grinned. "Maybe I want to annoy your father."
Okay that made perfect sense. Her father had been anything but gracious to Jake. She still burned at his condescending manner.
The thought had merit. It was ludicrous of course, but still, parts of it intrigued her.
How long had she fought against her father? Against his ridiculous notions of society and classes? How many times had he tried to drum into her head that the Fairchilds were the elite? The elite who did not, under any circumstances, mix with the lower classes.
Yes, her father was a snob. She'd spent her entire life trying not to emulate his actions. He would positively have a fit if she started parading Jake around as her boyfriend.
"Are you certain you'd want to do this?" Her mind spun with ideas.
"Why not? Might be fun to get a few digs into your old man."
She didn't real
ly understand Jake's motivation in all this, but if she brought him to a few events and let her father know she wasn't going to be bought and sold like a piece of property, maybe he'd back off and let her make her own decisions. It wasn't like she and Jake would really be dating.
"I'd ask you to attend some social events with me. Just enough to let my father, and Alex, see us together."
"Whatever. As long as it doesn't interfere with my work."
"My father will not be pleasant about this, Jake. He can be rude, downright nasty at times."
Jake shrugged. "I've heard worse. Doesn't bother me a bit."
"We wouldn't be actually dating."
He nodded. "Right. Not dating."
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"It might work. And it probably wouldn't take long. Once my father sees me with you a few times, he'll know I'm not interested in Alex, and maybe he'll drop all thoughts of trying to marry me off."
"No problem. And besides, after being with me, anyone you pick after that will be a huge relief to your father."
That thought hadn't occurred to her. Sadly, he was right. But how did Jake feel about that? His expression was unreadable. She didn't know if he was amused or annoyed, but either way, she was grateful for his help. She had to take control of her life, make her father understand that she would choose the man she would marry. Not that Jake was that man. But her father didn't need to know that.
Guilt niggled its way into her heart. This could be rough on Jake. Really rough.
People in her circle looked down their noses at those who weren't born with the proverbial silver spoon in their mouths.
"Jake, I don't know. I'd feel awful if someone hurt your feelings."
He laughed. "Believe me, no one could hurt my feelings. I'm immune."
She didn't know how someone could become immune to being insulted. "What's in this for you?"
He shrugged. "Other than irritating your father, nothing. I need to get out more, anyway."
Somehow she didn't think he really meant that. "I'll bet you have a lot of dates."
He laughed. "I have a few now and then."
She shouldn't do this. She really shouldn't. But the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like the key to her freedom. Her father was a smart man. Surely he'd see right away that she wouldn't allow him to choose her husband.
"I can't believe you're doing this for me, but I appreciate it. And I'll try not to take up too much of your time."
He shrugged. "Whatever gets you off the hook, sweetheart. I'm glad to help out. And if it irks your old man in the process, all the better."