Kaleidoscope
Page 20
This was because that kaleidoscope was something it took a lot of courage to seek him out and give to him. It also was something that meant the world to me to give, most especially the message I gave with it. I still figured he’d kindly taken it from me because he was that kind of guy. I also figured he then gave it away because it wasn’t his type of thing.
But knowing he took it everywhere threw me.
It also delighted me.
Beyond belief.
Therefore, I whispered, “Everywhere?”
“Been to some interesting places, Emme, baby, and that has always been with me.”
My breath started escalating and I knew Jacob didn’t miss it when his eyes dropped briefly to my chest before cutting back up to mine.
“Now,” he said gently, “unlike your very-soon-to-be ex, I’m not a dick. You gotta sort that and I gotta give you the space to do it. So tonight is not gonna end where I’d wanna lead it.”
My breath quickened even more.
He wasn’t done.
“But one thing I did learn from Elsbeth that you’re gonna get the benefit of, honey, and that’s that a man looks after his girl. That means I’m payin’ for your insulation and I’m installin’ it. And that means you’re gonna let me.”
“Your girl?” I asked, my voice coming out in a near on squeak.
“Yeah,” he answered, his voice deep, low and firm.
“This is, well… kinda weird.” Understatement! “And fast.” Extreme understatement!
“Met you twelve years ago and we’re just gettin’ here. I don’t call that fast. I call that a waste of f**kin’ time I’m about to rectify.”
Again, I was speechless.
Jacob wasn’t.
“So, summin’ up, you got until Sunday to get your head together about McFarland. On Sunday, you scrape him off. On Sunday night, the boys are gone, you learn the true meaning of me callin’ you ‘baby.’ ”
I could no longer feel my pulse beating just in my fingertips. It was beating somewhere else, somewhere special, somewhere private, somewhere awesome.
“Jacob—” I began again but his head cocked again.
“You don’t want that?”
I shut up.
“You want that,” he murmured, his gaze on my mouth, the skin around his eyes again going soft but his mouth didn’t twitch because the look in those eyes was hot and intense and I could tell he wasn’t finding anything funny.
The pulse radiated out from that awesome place and I felt my entire body get warm.
His gaze lifted back to mine and he unfolded from the couch, putting his beer bottle on my coffee table. It was then my entire body got stiff as he moved toward me and leaned in. That was, my entire body but my neck, which bent back to hold his eyes.
Then I held my breath as he slid the tips of his fingers along my forehead, sweeping aside my bangs, before they went back until his fingers were tangled in the strands and cupping the back of my head.
That felt unbelievably nice.
He dipped closer.
I started breathing again only to hyperventilate.
“He’s been jacked by a woman,” he said quietly, “a smart man learns. And, baby, you know I am not dumb. And what that man learns is not to waste time on bitches. But more, not to waste time when he finds one who he knows is worth it. Now, you got until Sunday. You with me?”
He stopped speaking and I knew he wanted a response but I just didn’t have it in me. I couldn’t cope with this, this massive shift, this incredible gift, the offer of all his beauty.
He got so much closer all I could see were his hazel eyes. And that close I noticed that, although his lashes were dark, short and spiky, there were a lot of them. So dense, they were fascinating, and I found myself wanting to take up the challenge of counting each and every one.
“Emme,” he whispered.
I blinked and focused.
“You with me?” he repeated.
“I think our conversation about insulation took a very weird turn,” I replied.
His eyes lit with warmth and humor and I lost my fascination with his lashes because I’d seen that look in his eyes frequently when he was with me but I’d never seen it that close and it was so beautiful, I wanted to hold onto that moment for eternity.
“Right,” he said. “You got until Sunday. You feel like pickin’ up the phone, I’m busy but I always got time for you. You need space from me ’til then, you got that too, baby. Yeah?”
I decided my best bet was to nod.
So I did that.
“Okay,” he murmured. I felt his hand in my hair pull me forward and I felt my breath stick in my throat before I felt his lips touch my hair and there he kept murmuring to say, “Strawberries.”
My hair did, indeed, smell like strawberries. That was what the shampoo smelled like that cost an arm and a leg and a vague promise to the devil I’d bear his children to populate the earth with devil’s spawn in order for my hair to get this soft, sleek and shiny.
But Jacob murmuring that word against my hair, I decided to make that promise not at all vague. I’d produce demon spawn to hear him say it again and again.
Alas, he did not say it again.
But what he did was a whole lot better.
His hand at my head pulled me slightly back, his fingers drifted through my hair to my temple then curled so the backs could glide lightly across my cheek and down, touching the side of my lip in a way that was a promise I felt sear through me from lips, through my heart, straight between my legs.
Was this happening?
“You can shake and bake with the best, Emme,” he told me, his hand settling cupping my jaw, and at words that were so far out of the moment, I stared.
Then, at the reminder of the dinner I served and that it might be good, but it was a far cry from gourmet and it was so Jacob to mention it, tease me about it, and it was also so Jacob to go out of his way to take us out of intense and put me at ease, that suddenly a feeling I didn’t quite get but I really liked stole through me and I felt my lips smile.
“Gourmet all the way with me, honey. That’s why you got the buffalo-flavored Shake ’n Bake.”
“I cook next time,” he declared, and Jacob was an excellent cook. Amazing. And he didn’t shy away from anything, even gourmet.
And what he said meant he intended to cook for me.
That stole through me too.
“I expect Indian,” I told him and something about him shifted, relaxed, and I knew, in sharing I was going to be eating with him again, I’d also shared I was “with him.”
But knowing he took it everywhere threw me.
It also delighted me.
Beyond belief.
Therefore, I whispered, “Everywhere?”
“Been to some interesting places, Emme, baby, and that has always been with me.”
My breath started escalating and I knew Jacob didn’t miss it when his eyes dropped briefly to my chest before cutting back up to mine.
“Now,” he said gently, “unlike your very-soon-to-be ex, I’m not a dick. You gotta sort that and I gotta give you the space to do it. So tonight is not gonna end where I’d wanna lead it.”
My breath quickened even more.
He wasn’t done.
“But one thing I did learn from Elsbeth that you’re gonna get the benefit of, honey, and that’s that a man looks after his girl. That means I’m payin’ for your insulation and I’m installin’ it. And that means you’re gonna let me.”
“Your girl?” I asked, my voice coming out in a near on squeak.
“Yeah,” he answered, his voice deep, low and firm.
“This is, well… kinda weird.” Understatement! “And fast.” Extreme understatement!
“Met you twelve years ago and we’re just gettin’ here. I don’t call that fast. I call that a waste of f**kin’ time I’m about to rectify.”
Again, I was speechless.
Jacob wasn’t.
“So, summin’ up, you got until Sunday to get your head together about McFarland. On Sunday, you scrape him off. On Sunday night, the boys are gone, you learn the true meaning of me callin’ you ‘baby.’ ”
I could no longer feel my pulse beating just in my fingertips. It was beating somewhere else, somewhere special, somewhere private, somewhere awesome.
“Jacob—” I began again but his head cocked again.
“You don’t want that?”
I shut up.
“You want that,” he murmured, his gaze on my mouth, the skin around his eyes again going soft but his mouth didn’t twitch because the look in those eyes was hot and intense and I could tell he wasn’t finding anything funny.
The pulse radiated out from that awesome place and I felt my entire body get warm.
His gaze lifted back to mine and he unfolded from the couch, putting his beer bottle on my coffee table. It was then my entire body got stiff as he moved toward me and leaned in. That was, my entire body but my neck, which bent back to hold his eyes.
Then I held my breath as he slid the tips of his fingers along my forehead, sweeping aside my bangs, before they went back until his fingers were tangled in the strands and cupping the back of my head.
That felt unbelievably nice.
He dipped closer.
I started breathing again only to hyperventilate.
“He’s been jacked by a woman,” he said quietly, “a smart man learns. And, baby, you know I am not dumb. And what that man learns is not to waste time on bitches. But more, not to waste time when he finds one who he knows is worth it. Now, you got until Sunday. You with me?”
He stopped speaking and I knew he wanted a response but I just didn’t have it in me. I couldn’t cope with this, this massive shift, this incredible gift, the offer of all his beauty.
He got so much closer all I could see were his hazel eyes. And that close I noticed that, although his lashes were dark, short and spiky, there were a lot of them. So dense, they were fascinating, and I found myself wanting to take up the challenge of counting each and every one.
“Emme,” he whispered.
I blinked and focused.
“You with me?” he repeated.
“I think our conversation about insulation took a very weird turn,” I replied.
His eyes lit with warmth and humor and I lost my fascination with his lashes because I’d seen that look in his eyes frequently when he was with me but I’d never seen it that close and it was so beautiful, I wanted to hold onto that moment for eternity.
“Right,” he said. “You got until Sunday. You feel like pickin’ up the phone, I’m busy but I always got time for you. You need space from me ’til then, you got that too, baby. Yeah?”
I decided my best bet was to nod.
So I did that.
“Okay,” he murmured. I felt his hand in my hair pull me forward and I felt my breath stick in my throat before I felt his lips touch my hair and there he kept murmuring to say, “Strawberries.”
My hair did, indeed, smell like strawberries. That was what the shampoo smelled like that cost an arm and a leg and a vague promise to the devil I’d bear his children to populate the earth with devil’s spawn in order for my hair to get this soft, sleek and shiny.
But Jacob murmuring that word against my hair, I decided to make that promise not at all vague. I’d produce demon spawn to hear him say it again and again.
Alas, he did not say it again.
But what he did was a whole lot better.
His hand at my head pulled me slightly back, his fingers drifted through my hair to my temple then curled so the backs could glide lightly across my cheek and down, touching the side of my lip in a way that was a promise I felt sear through me from lips, through my heart, straight between my legs.
Was this happening?
“You can shake and bake with the best, Emme,” he told me, his hand settling cupping my jaw, and at words that were so far out of the moment, I stared.
Then, at the reminder of the dinner I served and that it might be good, but it was a far cry from gourmet and it was so Jacob to mention it, tease me about it, and it was also so Jacob to go out of his way to take us out of intense and put me at ease, that suddenly a feeling I didn’t quite get but I really liked stole through me and I felt my lips smile.
“Gourmet all the way with me, honey. That’s why you got the buffalo-flavored Shake ’n Bake.”
“I cook next time,” he declared, and Jacob was an excellent cook. Amazing. And he didn’t shy away from anything, even gourmet.
And what he said meant he intended to cook for me.
That stole through me too.
“I expect Indian,” I told him and something about him shifted, relaxed, and I knew, in sharing I was going to be eating with him again, I’d also shared I was “with him.”
