Char’s hands were perspiring. That one word, trust. It immediately thrust her back into junior high. When she and Jake had been doing the trust fall—when he promised he’d catch her—and he’d failed.
When she was called fat.
And he refused to defend her.
Char’s mom had always told her that she’d laugh about it someday, that the things that happen to you in junior high don’t hold any power over your life in adulthood. But she was wrong… When you’re hurt at such a vulnerable age it’s impossible to forget the hurt. Especially if that one hurt launched you into a two-year issue with bulimia and diet pills.
So, trust? No, she didn’t trust Jake Titus, because the last two times she had. He’d walked away from her.
“Trust,” Madame repeated. “And follow my hands.” Char felt a hand on her shoulder and then she was pushed forward into Jake’s arms. His breath hitched as her cheek came into contact with his firm chest.
“Now, Jake, step back,” Madame instructed. “And do the—Oh my, you do know how to dance, don’t you?”
Char opened her eyes just as Jake pushed her away and twirled her, then pulled her back into his frame, tipping her over his leg in a dip.
“Trust me.” He whispered as he turned her in his arms, causing her entire backside to be firmly pressed against his front.
He felt too good.
With another twirl she was facing him.
“Now,” Madame called. “There are a series of seven dips, be sure to twirl her out, dip on one side and—oh dear, heavens, child. Have you done the mating dance before?”
Jake blushed.
Char opened her mouth to ask the same thing, but he dipped her across his leg and then twirled her out, causing her to nearly stumble until with a tug, Jake had her firmly in his arms again; only this time her feet dangled above the ground.
Slowly, he released her as she slid down his body, feeling every damn muscle of his six-pack. She only knew it was there because she counted muscles as her body descended.
The music stopped.
Char looked into Jake’s eyes.
His lips parted as he leaned forward.
“Marvelous!” Madame clapped.
Char jumped back and wiped her hands on her jeans.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you, darling?” Madame winked at Jake and patted him on the butt, then turned to Char. “As long as you let him lead, for the day of the wedding you will be perfectly fine.”
Char nodded. “Are we done then?”
“Dancing is part of life. One is never done dancing.”
“Or mating,” Jake said helpfully.
Madame blushed and began fanning her face. “Would you care for some refreshments?”
Char might as well have been invisible.
Jake reached for Char’s arm and pulled her into his body. “Um, no thank you. I’d best get my girlfriend home.”
Madame’s lips formed a pout. “Girlfriend?”
Jake’s grip tightened on Char’s waist.
“Yeah, Jake, girlfriend? I mean…” Char twisted to face him. “I didn’t know we were going to make it official and everything.”
His nostrils flared as his eyes darted between Madame and her. “We’ll just seal it with a kiss, shall we?”
Before Char could protest his lips were on hers.
Holy crap.
He tasted like pure virile man. He parted her lips with his tongue and dove into the depths of her mouth. His lips were like velvet, perfectly formed against hers, which were not fighting but—partaking.
With a moan Char wrapped her arms around his neck—completely forgetting herself—and kissed him back. He made a sound low in his throat as his grip on her body tightened.
“This… is not a brothel,” Madame interrupted frostily.
“Could have fooled me,” Jake said against Char’s lips.
With a snort of laughter Char pulled away. “Thank you, Madame, for everything. But as you’ve just seen, my boyfriend and I need to go celebrate!”
“Well then, off you go.” Madame’s voice was high-pitched but her face was pinched at the mouth, as if she had just sucked on something really sour.
They left the store and made a run for it to Jake’s BMW. The minute Char slammed the door shut, they both burst into fits of laughter.
Jake started the car. “And I thought Grandma was crazy.”
“Right?” Char’s voice sounded a bit breathless. Great; now she couldn’t talk like a normal human around Jake. It was a kiss: one damn kiss to fend off the Cougar, nothing more.
“Thanks for that…” The car pulled to a stop at the light. “For helping me out. Had I been there alone—I’m pretty sure you would have seen me on the evening news.”
“Candy.” Char nodded.
“Huh?” The light turned green.
“That’s how she would have lured you into her bedroom. She would’ve made a candy trail to her bedroom. It’s how all the Cougars do it. Then, once you were there, she would have gotten you drunk, you would have accepted—anything to ruin memories of the night—and there you have it. Love slave. Dateline. Woman Scorned.”
Jake shook his head and snorted. “The way your mind works frightens me.”
“Hey.” Char lifted her hands in the air. “I’m just saying.”
Jake shuddered and pulled onto the freeway toward downtown. “So, drinks? I did promise and I’m pretty sure I owe you.”
After that kiss? No, it was actually she who owed him. The all-too-familiar pang of rejection washed over Char. Sure, she could go have drinks with him and then fall for all the things that most normal breathing girls fell for. He’d get just tipsy enough to ask her to come home with him. They’d share a cab, she’d say just one drink, they’d end up in his bedroom.
And she’d wake up to find a thank-you note and a twenty-dollar bill for her cab fare home on her pillow.
No thanks.
“Actually…” Char looked at her watch. “I can still put in a full afternoon at the office. Can you drop me off at the KOMO station?”
Jake nervously scratched his head and shrugged. “Sure, I mean if that’s what you want. I for one think margaritas are better than working any day.”
“Yeah.” Char put on her sunglasses. “Then again you’re kind of unemployed right now so…”
“Thanks for the reminder,” he grumbled, taking the downtown exit. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just look at what else Grandma has on her list and give you a call.”
“You’ll need my number.”
“I’ll get it from Grandma.” He shrugged.
Damn the man. He couldn’t even ask her for her number? Really? “Well.” Char opened the door once he’d stopped the car. “Wouldn’t want you to have to program me into your cell and risk taking up too much space from your booty calls.”
“Char, wait—”
She slammed the door before he could finish what he was going to say and walked purposefully into the office building.
Chapter Eleven
What the hell had just happened? One minute they were joking and laughing and the next Char was talking about booty calls and slamming the door in his face? What had he said? She’d seemed in a hurry so he hadn’t wanted to irritate her further by making her wait for him to get her number.
In his mind he was being a gentleman, or at least trying.
But according to Char he was being a jackass?
Women. Would he never understand them?
As he pulled out of the parking lot, contemplating all the reasons that kissing Char again would be a bad idea, his phone rang.
“What?” His voice was hoarse.
“Whoa, there… bad day?” Travis chuckled.
“I had dance class. You tell me.”
“I’m sorry, did you say you had dance class?”
“I’m not repeating it,” Jake said dryly. “Oh and by the way, Grandma may not make it to the wedding.”