She bent over and laid her head in the palm of her hands.
For someone who'd always prided herself on not being one of the snooty upper class, she had sure shown her true colors tonight. She'd made judgments about Jake based on his social class, and not on him as a person. In doing so, she'd proved herself the biggest snob of all.
Jake threw the charcoal on the grill and ignited the flame, then picked up the slimy tennis ball his Golden Retriever, Rascal, had dumped on his foot.
"Don't you ever get tired?" he asked the dog, who sat at his feet, butt wiggling and tail flapping furiously back and forth. "Guess not."
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He threw the ball across the yard as far as he could. Rascal took off in a determined gallop, growling and shaking his head when he pounced on his quarry.
Jake laughed at the dog's antics and headed inside for a beer. He walked past the pile of paperwork leering at him from the dining room table and chose to ignore it for the time being. It was Saturday, he was hungry, had been working on the house and yard all day, and he wanted a break. Paperwork could wait for later.
He'd thrown himself into home improvement projects since dawn, after spending a restless night tossing and turning. A vision of curly hair and eyes the color of pale jade haunted his dreams.
How could he have been so wrong about her? She'd seemed so unlike most of the upper class women he'd met before. Nonjudgmental based on what he did for a living.
He thought she'd enjoyed his company on their date the other night. Then it turned out she was so deathly afraid he'd embarrass her in front of her father that she tried to steer him away from the conversation, certain he was too stupid to know the answers to the questions her father and Alex had asked him.
It was better to end things with her, anyway. Before he did something really moronic, like get involved. Like thinking she might care, that someone like her could actually fall for someone like him.
Lucy Fairchild was no better than his father. Passing judgment on him, condemning him as a failure for no good reason. He'd endured enough of that to last a lifetime.
Taking out his aggression by viciously tenderizing the steak with a wooden mallet, his annoyance ticked one notch higher at the sound of the doorbell.
Five o'clock on a Saturday. You'd think salespeople would give a working guy a break and stay away on the weekends. He wiped his hands and stomped to the door, ready to skin alive the first person who tried to sell him something.
"What?" he said in a curt tone as he swung open the door.
Lucy blinked, taken aback by Jake's surly greeting. It was hard enough to be standing at his door, and with a welcome like that she felt like tucking her tail between her legs and running for her car.
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"I'm...I'm sorry to bother you, Jake."
"How did you find my house?" he asked, frowning.
"You're listed in the telephone book." She'd been surprised to find how far outside the city he lived. Then again, considering the size of his house and yard, it didn't surprise her he had to travel half an hour east of San Francisco to afford this much land. Small houses with no yards went for over a quarter of a million in the city.
His brows knit together, but he didn't speak. Almost like he couldn't quite believe she was standing there.
"Jake?"
"Why are you here?"
This wasn't going to be easy. Did she really expect it to be? She'd just have to stand there and take it. Whatever he dished out, she deserved. "I'm here to apologize."
Somehow it didn't seem powerful enough. The words fell flat. He stared at her, his lips in a straight line, no emotion showing on his face.
"For what?"
"For last night. For what I did, for what I said. For assuming--"
"It's not necessary. You didn't need to come all the way out here."
"It is necessary," she said, taking a step toward him. He looked, as usual, amazing.
Last night in a tux, today in shorts and a tank top, showing off tanned, broad shoulders.
Her heart accelerated, whether from sheer nervousness or feminine delight she wasn't sure.
Taking a deep breath, she figured she'd better just spit it out. "Jake, I was wrong.
I've always prided myself on not being a snob, not judging people based on their appearances or occupation. And I grossly underestimated you. I have no excuse other than complete stupidity. Please, I beg you to forgive me."
He stood silent for a moment, his head tilted at an angle as if digesting what she'd just said.
"Come in." He held the door open and motioned her inside.
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With a silent sigh of relief, she stepped into the tiled entry, immediately struck by the simplistic beauty of his home. She'd thought the same thing when she pulled up into the double driveway. A one story beige frame with blue painted shutters and ornate double front doors, the house had beckoned her in welcome. The lawn was expertly manicured, evergreen bushes lined the picture window in the front, and three river birch trees provided a shady overhang.
Children played in the front yard of the surrounding homes, screaming and laughing, riding their bikes and playing ball.
It was a beautiful sight.
"You want a drink?"
She nodded and followed him, admiring the dark Berber carpet and pale gray walls.
The furniture was modern, from the black leather sofa and matching chair in the family room off the entry way, to the glass and chrome table nestled in a nook in the kitchen.
"I've got beer, some white wine, or iced tea. Take your pick."
"A glass of wine would be great." She smoothed her hair off her face and tucked it into her ponytail before sitting down at the table.
He came back with a bottle of beer and a glass of wine. She took a sip, surprised at the smooth flavor.
"What is this?" she asked, twirling the liquid in the glass.
"Kendall Jackson Chardonnay, eighty-eight."
"I like it. Very easy and light."
He shrugged, but didn't respond.
"You have a lovely home," she said, cringing at the small talk.
"Thanks."
She turned at the sound of scratching, surprised to find a beautiful dog wagging its tail on the other side of the sliding glass door. "Oh! You have a dog!"
Without a look in Jake's direction, she bounded from the chair and threw open the door, stepped out back and dropped to her knees to pet the dog.
He was very friendly, licking her face and wagging his tail furiously.
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"Aren't you just the sweetest thing?"
"His name's Rascal." Jake stepped out behind her.
She looked up at him. "He's adorable."
Jake rolled his eyes. "Wait 'til he drops his slimy tennis ball in your hand."
Lucy laughed and ran her hands over Rascal's thick coat. "I've always wanted a dog.
I love animals."
"Why don't you have one?" He handed her glass of wine over and they sat at a white patio table with a blue flowered umbrella.
"Father would never allow it," she said, petting Rascal on the head.
"So? Move out. You are kind of old to be living with Daddy, aren't you?"
Not the first time she'd heard that. "I've thought about it, but Father and I spend so much time at night going over cases and paperwork related to the firm, I just felt it was easier to stay there. I have my own wing of the house, so I get plenty of privacy."
"Uh huh."
"Look, Jake. The house is huge. Father and I barely run into each other unless we're having a meeting in the home office. We lead separate lives, and he stays out of my business."
At Jake's raised eyebrow, she added, "Mostly."
He leaned back in th
e chair and took a long swallow of beer. "And what if you want to bring a man home to spend the night? What then?"
Heat rose in her cheeks. "I don't."
"Ever?"
"No."
"So, you're a virgin."
"No!"
He laughed, and she felt her face flame even hotter.
"I meant I'd never bring someone to the house."
"What do you do when you want to sleep with someone?"
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How had this conversation gotten so personal, so intimate? "I don't really think that's any of your business."
"Counselor, you're evading the issue."
"I'm not being evasive. I'm simply uncomfortable talking about something so personal."
"Your choice." He stood. "I'll be right back."
After he went into the house, Lucy took a couple quick drinks of wine and scrunched her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in her neck. She'd done what she came to do.
They really had nothing left to say to each other.
Jake stepped back outside with a plate of steaks and layered them on the grill. Lucy giggled at Rascal's rapt attention to each slice of meat going from plate to grill.
"I really should go." She watched as he closed the lid on the grill and turned to her.
"You can't."
"Why not?"
"I just put a steak on for you."
"Oh." She supposed she'd been invited to dinner. "All right, then. Thank you."
"No big deal. We all have to eat."
Lucy hated this distance between them, and knowing she was the cause of it set the guilt demons plaguing her again. She wished she knew how to get things back the way they were before. Although they hadn't known each other long, she'd quickly grown accustomed to how comfortable she felt talking to Jake. There were no barriers, no games between them.
At least there hadn't been. Now there was a steel wall between them that she wasn't sure would ever come down. And she'd put it there.
"What can I do to help?" she asked.
After turning the steaks, he motioned her inside. "You can help me fix a salad if you want."
"I'd love to."
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They stood side by side in the expansive kitchen. Lucy sliced vegetables at the counter while Jake prepared a potato dish on the stove. "You can cook, too?" she asked.
He smirked. "Yes, I can cook. I don't have servants to do it for me."
She bristled, feeling every sting of that insult. "Yes, we have servants. Should I apologize for that, too?"
"Not unless you feel it's necessary."
Instead of picking a fight, she held her tongue and took it out on the carrots and cucumbers, furiously slamming the knife into the poor, defenseless vegetables.
"Don't cut your finger off," Jake said over his shoulder. "I realize you probably don't have much experience with chopping vegetables."
That did it. She stormed over and grabbed his arm to turn him so he'd face her. "I screwed up last night. I realize that. I said I was sorry. If I have to go on apologizing for coming from a wealthy family, then I might as well leave now. Because I'll be damned if I'll allow you to make me feel guilty because of the circumstances of my birth. And you call me a snob? Well, you're a snob, too. You think just because I come from a rich family that I have no useful skills. Well, let me tell you, mister, I learned to cook a long time ago, I don't let the servants do everything for me. I can grocery shop, do the laundry, wield a dust rag and a broom as well as the latest in vacuum cleaners, and I mop a mean floor. So you can take your reverse snobbery and shove it."
She was so furious her entire body shook with the adrenaline rush it took to get that tirade out.
Jake's lips curled into a smile. He reached out a hand and gently extricated the knife from her fingers. She hadn't even realized she'd been pointing it at him the whole time.
"I'll take that." He seemed to be fighting a grin. "You sure get all fired up and passionate when you're pissed, don't you?"
"I'm sorry," she said, instantly mortified at her behavior. "I've never done anything like that before."
For the first time since she'd arrived, his eyes softened. "Hey. You're entitled to vent, too. And you're right. I guess I had a little leftover anger from last night."
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"Truce?" she asked, holding out her hand.
He slipped his in hers and squeezed gently. "Truce."
Lucy sighed and went back to making the salad, feeling a considerable lightening in her heart.
Jake poured more wine and they worked together amicably, talking back and forth about her job and his. She set the table and put out the other food while Jake brought in the steaks. She smiled at the domestic scene. It was the first time she'd cooked with a man, and it felt good. Homey, comfortable--almost intimate.
Things between them felt right again. Which both thrilled her and scared the heck out of her at the same time.
What did right mean as it pertained to her and Jake? What was happening between them?
Something good? Or something that would end up hurting them both?
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Chapter Five
Lucy pushed the plate away, completely satiated. After the huge dinner, coupled with two more glasses of wine, she couldn't move a muscle. A lethargic fog settled over her, and she figured she'd be stuck in the kitchen chair the rest of the night.
Jake held out his hand. "Come on, let's go out back and sit in the glider, watch the full moon."
Wrong. Not capable of movement. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm stuffed and had too much wine. I'm immovable."
"You want me to sling you over my shoulder and carry you?"
"I'm up!" She stood, wobbled a bit, and followed Jake outside. When had the sun gone down? Dusky shadows fell over the moonlit backyard. They eased into the glider together, and Rascal settled at their feet.
Jake handed her yet another glass of wine.
"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were trying to get me drunk so you could take advantage of me."
He slipped his arm over the chair, resting it lightly against her back. His devilish smile held her. "Baby, if I wanted to take advantage of you, I'd make sure you were stone cold sober. I'd want you fully aware of everything that happened."
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"Oh." She shivered with the promise of that statement, her mind conjuring up vivid images of naked limbs and fevered kisses.
She hoped she wasn't drooling.
Time to change the subject to something neutral. "Tell me about your childhood."
"Why do you want to know about that?"
"I'm interested." She glanced at his profile silhouetted in the faint light from the kitchen window.
He gazed out into the darkness and took a sip of his beer.
"Not much to tell. I left home when I was sixteen, started working construction right after that."
"You ran away?"
"Not really. My old man didn't give a damn whether I stayed around or not. He was probably glad to see me go."
She sensed the sadness wrapped around his carefully guarded words. "That must have been hard for you. What about your mother?"
"She died before I left."
The bitterness in that statement brooked no further prodding. "I'm sorry."
"It's old history."
"Still, it's hard to lose a parent when you're so young. My mother died when I was six."
His hand slipped to her shoulder, and she felt the squeeze of his fingers against her bare flesh. "That's rough."
"I don't really remember much about her. I know she smiled a lot." Her memories were so distant. All she had were pictures of a laughi
ng woman holding a young Lucy in her arms, looking for all the world like the happiest woman alive. She wished there were more.
"So, it was just you and your dad after she died?"
"Yes. He tried to be both parents, but Father isn't one for showing much affection. I know he loves me."
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"Girls need a mom. Your dad never remarried?"
"No. He was too busy with work to even consider it. He never even dated after Mother died." Lucy wished he had. Maybe a woman's influence would have softened him. God knows she would have loved to have a mother figure around.
"Too bad. That's probably why you and your dad are so close."
Were they? Lucy wondered sometimes how her father really felt about her. He wasn't outwardly affectionate, and the only positive reinforcement she'd received when she was younger came upon making good grades in school. Even now, she'd get a pat on the back for winning a case at work. At times she felt more a valued employee than a beloved daughter.
"You and your dad? You didn't get along?" she asked.
Jake laughed. "That's an understatement."
"Why not?"
"He was a mean, vindictive, sorry SOB who never had a kind word to say to anyone in his entire life."
She turned to him and rested her hand on his. "That's a terrible way to raise a child.
No wonder you left home."
"No big deal. I'm over it now," he said with a shrug and another pull of his beer.
Wanting to ask more questions, to delve deeper, she could tell by the distant look on his face that he didn't want to continue the discussion. "Did you finish high school?"
"Eventually. I hooked up with Bob and he kind of adopted me. Took me home with him. He and his wife, Shelly, gave me a place to stay. They never had kids, and I was trouble in the worst way, but still, they looked after me. Bob made me finish school before he'd let me work full time at the job sites."
Lucy warmed at the affection Jake showed for Bob. "Sounds like a very good man."
"He is. Pain in my butt sometimes, but he's been good to me."
"And now you have your own construction company. You've come a long way."
"I had to work damn hard to get here. Went to night school, again at Bob's not so subtle urging, while working full time in construction. Got my degree in business, 64
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