Understood (Unspoken #1)(3)

As she started to strip, she paused and looked down at her shirt. She hadn’t worn that shirt last night. She remembered that much. How the hell had she gotten out of her clothes and into this?

She pulled the shirt off and climbed into the shower. As the hot water sluiced over her, she leaned her forehead against the tile wall and closed her eyes.

So her plan had been a complete and utter failure. She’d taken two steps into the bar and chickened out. Oh, she’d tried to flirt and smile, prepared to pick up some guy and have sex, but as soon as they’d closed in around her, she’d panicked.

Thank God, Jake had been there. Damn Jake for being there.

An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment tightened her cheeks, adding a pinch of heat to her face. Why he always managed to see her at her worst, she’d never know. Just once she’d like him to see her at her best.

She finished showering and quickly dried off. She shuffled back into her bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, foregoing a bra.

Then she headed for the kitchen, wanting nothing more than a glass of cold water and a couple of Tylenol. She rounded the corner from the hallway and heard a clang. She stopped when she saw Jake moving awkwardly around the kitchen, his large frame dominating the small space.

So much for him ever seeing her at her best.

He looked up and saw her. “‘Bout time you got up.”

She faltered at the raw possession she saw in his eyes. It was always there, swirling and building just beneath the surface. Jake was a force of nature she wasn’t prepared to contend with. Especially this morning.

She feared men like Jake. Oh, she wasn’t afraid that Jake would hurt her. Not intentionally. But she feared the way she reacted to him every time she was in the same room with him.

Already, every muscle, every nerve ending in her body was taut, stretched almost painfully. Her ni**les had become throbbing points, stabbing at her T-shirt, begging for him to close his lips around them.

There wasn’t another man like Jake, that much was for sure. Tall, well over six feet, he wore self-assuredness like a mantle. He walked and talked like a man who knew precisely what he wanted, a man who’d do what it took to get it.

He had a stocky build, his body ripped with muscles from the years he’d spent playing professional football and honed to perfection in the three years he’d worked as a building contractor with his partner Luke Forsythe. He didn’t just oversee the projects. He worked every bit as hard as his hired crews.

He wore his hair short. No fuss, just like him. It spiked on top and was clipped close at his neck and over his ears. A shadow lurked along his jaw, a testament to the fact he must have spent the night on her couch and hadn’t yet gotten to shave.

“Jake, what are you doing here?” she finally asked, admiring the calm with which she said it.

“Fixing you breakfast. What does it look like?”

He turned back to the stove and pulled out a pan of biscuits.

“You cook?”

He shot her a disgruntled look. “I can take biscuits out of a can and slap them on a cookie sheet.”

She plopped down on a barstool at the alcove separating the kitchen from the small dining area. “But why are you here cooking me breakfast?”

He ignored her and set to work arranging the biscuits on a plate. Then he reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the butter and a jar of jelly. He moved over and plunked the items down in front of her then went back for the plate of biscuits.

A few seconds later, he took a seat across the bar from her and slid a plate to her. “Eat,” he directed.

She stared at him in complete befuddlement. And to her annoyance, she followed his order and began picking at the warm biscuits in front of her.

They ate in silence until she felt Jake’s stare on her. She looked up to see his plate cleaned, and he was looking at her with his famous Jake look. Great.

“Just what the hell did you think you were doing last night, Ellie?”

“What did it look I was doing?” she mumbled.

Jake’s green eyes glittered in anger. He leaned forward until she had no choice but to look back at him. “I will f**king take apart any man who gets within six inches of you, Ellie. Maybe you ought to take that into consideration the next time you wag your little ass into a bar looking for cock.”

She flushed, embarrassment rushing to her cheeks. Jake stood up and collected the dishes before walking to the sink to set them down with a clank. Then he stilled and turned back to her.

“I wasn’t looking for c-cock.”

“The hell you weren’t,” Jake growled. He folded his arms over his chest. “There wasn’t a man in that bar that didn’t know you were on the prowl. The ‘f*ck me’ clothes. And the shoes. Jesus, Ellie, were you trying to break a leg?”

“Don’t lecture me, please, Jake. I’m already embarrassed enough.”

He started to open his mouth then closed it again. He took a deep breath and leveled a hard stare at her. “I’ve waited a long time for you to get over the issues you had with Ray. A long damn time.”

Ellie looked down for a moment. Jake never hesitated to speak frankly about her ex-husband. On one hand, she appreciated it. She didn’t have to pretend with him. But it still made her cringe that Jake knew so much about her disastrous marriage.

He walked over to the alcove and leaned until he once again looked her in the face. When she would have looked away, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her back to him.