Page 46 of Bleeding Heart
The main thing is something I realized after spending the evening with Greer. I’ve wrapped a lot of myself up in making my store a success, but it’s been at the expense of any other dream. Or anything else, really.
I thought I’d find someone eventually. The whole time I was with Gavin, I thought that someone was him. But it wasn’t.
Gavin was the man my mom wanted for me. He was the man I intended on making her happy by marrying. I needed my fiancé to love me for her sake. When we were engaged, I was forsaking the happiness the person I might get to grow old with would bring. In the same way that running away gave Gavin back to his perfect person, I was giving me back to mine.
Well, my imperfect, perfect person. If that makes any sense.
With all his bitter flaws, I crave Jake’s company. I love the way he challenges me, like he wants me to call him on his assholiness. Jake on the other side of my front door gives me a rabble of butterflies. Jogging into Sweet Caroline’s, I can’t wait for those first moments when he traps me in the office and the rest of the world ceases to exist.
I can’t explain why. Logic has completely flown out the window. Every time I’ve tried cajoling myself out of thinking this could be love, I recognize whatever I’m feeling is something I haven’t felt before. I’ve fallen for Jake Ballantine.
It’s inevitable our schedules will fill up like this again. However, I don’t want another week of separation. I want to admire Jake in his fancy suits and I want him to look at me in the desperate way he is right now—like he could lose me. Like he could cherish me. Like someday he might even love me.
I hope after tonight I still feel the same way.
I turn for my bedroom, telling Jake I need to retrieve my matching clutch.
“You rearranged the furniture,” he calls after me.
“I did!” I shout. “It was time for a little update.”
Gavin pushed the living room furniture against the walls, saying it made the space look bigger. I decided that an intimate conversation area was nicer. So I moved the sofa from in front of the window and pointed the back to the door. The jury is out if I’ll keep it this way, but I’m embracing change.
“Are you ready?” Jake asks, resigned.
“Are you?”
“You don’t believe me. That you look beautiful.” He changes the subject.
I spread my palms over the evening gown I’m wearing to the gala. The slim cut makes me feel taller, and the silk is soft against my skin. After I tried it on, I couldn’t resist and wound up spending a fortune. It’s the second dress I’ve done that with and I’m not sure where else I’ll be able to wear it. I won’t repeat my wardrobe at the annual benefit and it isn’t like I expect to RSVP to any black-tie weddings soon.
“I’d be apt to believe you if you didn’t look so sad. You’re like a bull who has got a ring in his nose and I’m using it to lead you to a slaughterhouse.”
Jake laughs but the light doesn’t touch his sorrowful eyes.
I grab his chin. My thumb fits in the cleft and I pull his face to mine. I get another rush of power when his long, lean form bends to my will. “What is going on?”
“I don’t think I can manage this, Paisley.”
“Sure you can. You’re Jake Ballentine.” I grasp the knot in his tie and cover his lips with mine. Like a moth to a flame, his hands find my hips, his fingers sinking into my ass like there’s nothing between us.
He cages my lower half against the rise of the sofa, pushing his legs between mine until I’m perched on the couch. Holding me steady with one hand to the small of my back, Jake raises my silky skirt up over my thighs. His fingers dance under the lace of my stockings. “Did you wear these for me?”
I swallow. And nibble his lip in response.
“These things are so goddamned sexy. When you stuck your hand up your gown and took the ruined pair off, I wanted to be the one taking them off of you.” His thumb brushes close to the apex of my sex.
“After the gala, Jake.” Holding dominion over a powerful man gives me a thrill. I love the way Jake’s kisses make me hot and needy and alive.
He grunts his acquiescence, but not before erasing the inch between my thigh and where my panties cover. The lace is damp and Jake finds out how wet his talented mouth alone makes me—even when it’s not centered on my core.
“Christ,corazón.What am I doing to you?”
I palm his hard cock. “The same thing I’m doing to you, apparently.”
“I can’t, uh, I can’t be seen at a charity event like this.” He glances around circumspect.
“No, I guess you can’t, can you?” My toes dip to the floor and I push at Jake’s midsection. My fingertips grip the button on his jacket, flicking it open. “Nice belt.” I smirk, unbuckling it and undoing his zipper.