Jake (California Dreamy) Page 11

  Ivy conferred with the cardiologist, documented her adjustments in Rafael’s file, and headed to the staff lounge for her break. She had purchased an already-prepared Greek salad when she was at the grocery store and pulled that from her lunch bag along with sliced chicken breast and a peach. She uncapped her water and drank from it. She was tired. She needed the electrolytes added to her drink and knew that replenishing her body’s water supply would provide her with more energy.

  She had expended quite a bit with Jake. They had barely slept.

  And she couldn’t believe how easy it had been to fall asleep next to him. She had drifted

  off with the feel of his body along her back and his hand on her hip, and it had been comforting. And she had awoken the same way—with a delicious feeling of satisfaction that was intimately connected to a peace she wasn’t familiar with but she knew came from the man laying beside her.

  She could rest in him.

  That was a profound thought for Ivy. She had hoped to find that with Trace and not long into her marriage had decided such a thing did not exist. She would always be her own comforter and rescuer.

  Jake had proved her wrong on so many levels.

  She remembered his stern countenance on the side of the freeway, disturbed by her lack of concern over her circumstances. His fiery remarks when the attraction between them flared, his discipline that paced their relationship. She felt safe with Jake. She had learned to find that safety herself. Oh, but how good it felt to ease into someone else. Someone with broad shoulders and strong arms and a code of honor that she could rely on to build them up.

  It made her skittish, though, to try and define what they had. It was too soon. And she couldn’t ignore that trickle of fear that struck whenever she thought about Jake long-term. It was better to stay in the moment. Wasn’t it? But Ivy no longer hid from challenges.

  How did she swing so fast from a trust no one, to a he could be the one attitude?

  She tried to recall some of the facts she’d unearthed about flings. Very few developed into something more substantial. Something like a paltry twelve percent of flings developed into lasting relationships.

  She picked through her salad, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth as she turned her thoughts to what she and Jake did have. A common interest—running and maintaining a healthy lifestyle. A shared sense of humor. A strong work ethic. A troubled past they both used as a compass into a brighter future. Ties to family that were important to them.

  Could she do Thanksgiving with Jake and his sister’s family?

  There was something exciting about boarding a plane with your lover for parts unknown, even if it was only for a few days.

  But something very nerve-wracking about spending that time with that person’s extended family.

  And why hadn’t she told him about Holly’s injuries? She carefully guarded her sister. Every time she’d thought about telling anyone about Holly an image bloomed in her mind of the tall, lithe, athlete she had been in high school, whipping around the track, her long blond hair flaring out behind her. Holly was strength. She was sunshine. She was all Ivy had in the world. She didn’t want people to see her disability because that was so not who her sister was.

  She pushed her salad away and picked up her peach. She gazed out the large window where lamp posts were shrouded in pre-dawn fog. The night sky was still an impenetrable hue of black. Holly was doing so well now, she’d told Ivy she was returning to work full time next week. She’d refused Ivy’s money this visit, too. She’d let her pay the conference fee, which included hotel, but tore Ivy’s check in half and laid it on the table between them.

  “I don’t need it anymore,” she’d said. “I’m almost up to full time again. I will be next week.” She’d smiled at Ivy, her eyes filling with tears.

  And Ivy had reached for her sister in an embrace that was part celebration part relief, part exaltation. Full time meant many things. The most important was Holly’s independence. She was firmly rooted in her new normal, which, Holly liked to say, “was a pretty good imitation of the before me.”

  Ivy pulled her cell phone from the side pocket of her lunch bag. She needed to check her messages and make any adjustments to her work week. She was on-call at the senior rehabilitation center and could fit in a shift for either later today or tomorrow. Fridays were big need days. She supposed she didn’t have to work like this anymore, but she had no intention of changing yet. If it turned out that Holly could work full time, that she now had the stamina for a demanding schedule, then Ivy would rebuild her savings. She would put money away for a dream vacation. Maybe something Caribbean she and Jake could share. . .

  She liked thinking ahead, planning for two, and yet it scared her, too.

  Trusting in the past had only led her to heartbreak. And yet, she wanted to trust him.

  Was Jake thinking the same way? His purpose for pacing them was to see if they had a future, she reminded herself. He wanted to give them that chance.

  So take it slow, she told herself. As if she could turn back the clock. Right. She didn’t want to erase the hours they had spent in her apartment, tangled in a heated mess, tempting and pleasing each other. She still felt his touch on the intimate parts of her body.

  So they would date. Really. They would spend as much time vertical as horizontal. She would make a point of it, and with that in mind she picked up her phone, ignored the flashing red light that indicated waiting messages, and surfed the internet for fun things to do in San Diego. They had the dinner cruise this weekend but she made a list of activities she thought would appeal to both of them. There was a kayak trip through the La Jolla caves, a hike that wove its way along wetland habitats, whale watching, Sea World, and Restaurant Row’s Summer Surrender which combined eclectic meals with thematic showings of movies, new and old. There were nights of comedy and horror, romance and adventure.

  While she was online she searched for the principles of a healthy relationship, never having had one herself she thought she had something to learn. Mutual respect was a given. Trust and honesty a no-brainer. Supporting each other—now wouldn’t that be nice, having someone who cheered you on through everything. Good communication—they certainly had that. A sense of playfulness—well her list would take care of that. And separate identities. That gave her pause. She and Jake already had that, but how did two become one and maintain a healthy sense of self at the same time?

  How did she maintain her hard-won independence? How did she not revert to the Ivy of old, who had clung to Trace, believing he was the answer to a prayer?

  Tricky. This was new territory. But with anything that posed a challenge, Ivy reminded herself that she would proceed with caution. She had no illusions about slowing down their sexual escapades, but she could hold her heart aloof while she was figuring things out, couldn’t she?

  She had ten minutes left to her break when she scrolled thorough her text messages. She made a note to confirm with the senior center, who had asked her to come in from ten to two Friday, a shift she could easily fit in before showing up back at the pod for a brief turn providing break coverage. And then her heart skipped a beat when she saw a message from Jake. It had come in at seven-fifty the night before. She opened the message.

  It was a photograph. Snow-capped mountains and wind-swept flurries dancing in the air.

  Montana.

  She wanted to type back a simple ‘yes.’

  It didn’t matter that Thanksgiving was three months away.

  She wanted to go to Montana with him, and if they were still together at the holidays, then they’d found a way to balance their lives. And discovered that there was more to them than the bump and grind.

  She searched Google images and found a cartoon of the Tasmanian Devil on a snow mobile. He was wearing a helmet and was choked-up on the handle bars, his face scrunched into a ferocious frown of determination. She sent the picture to Jake, a slight tremor in her fingers as she pressed ‘send.’ It was a simple reply, b
ut her commitment was unmistakable.

  While she still had a few minutes left to her break, and clinging to her positive mood, Ivy entered the pass code to her bank account and transferred into her savings the funds she would have given to Holly. It may as well earn interest while it sat there. She wanted to believe that her sister was ready for full time work again, that she would soon put on a pair of running shoes and take her first new steps on the open road. But she had been so tired last weekend, and the doctor had reminded them that with every recovery there were setbacks and an end run.

  There were also full recoveries, Holly had told him. And while she wouldn’t grow a new leg, she would get around as she had before with the new and improved model they had given her. Soon she would have what medical engineers called a sport leg. Last summer she and Holly had watched the Ironman Triathlon where a female athlete with a full prosthetic not only competed but had a respectable finish.

  “Full recoveries are few,” the doctor conceded. “You may be one of them. You have the determination. But life after a catastrophic accident seldom resembles life before.”

  People change. Some are defeated by their new circumstances. But some found a strength they never knew they’d possessed. They made of their lives greater successes than they’d experienced pre-accident.

  Holly had grown tense and let her anger with the doctor show. “I won’t be limited by your attitude,” she’d told him. “Maybe you’re not the doctor for me.”

  “It’s my job to encourage you, to celebrate your achievements, and to impart reality.”

  Holly had it in her heart to run her first prosthetic mile by the two year mark. That was five months away. The doctor didn’t think she’d make it.

  Holly had a saying she lived by now, “You can have wishbone and you can have backbone. Only one will get the job done.”

  Ivy knew her sister could do it. It was a matter of faith and effort.

  Anything worth achieving took backbone. That included relationships. And work ethic was one area where she and Jake were mutually compatible.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ivy didn’t set the alarm. She had worked two split shifts the day before, leaving the senior center at two in the afternoon and arriving at Children’s at four where she’d put in six hours spread through various pods, providing break coverage. It was midnight by the time she got to bed, and then she had lain awake thinking about Jake. Okay, fantasizing, really. She was right when she told him that by Saturday morning she would be hurting for him. Her body remembered every one of his intimate touches and needed very little prodding from her brain to hit simmer.

  She heard it again. It wasn’t the bleating of her alarm clock. But it was intrusive, peeling back layers of sleepy fog to get her attention.

  Knocking. Someone was knocking on her door.

  She sat up and pushed back the summer quilt. The light outside her windows revealed a muted dawn. This close to the water, mornings were always cloud-covered.

  The knock came again, soft but insistent.

  “Ivy?” It was Jake and his voice was a husky rumble through the solid wood door.

  She answered it.

  She was wearing white cotton boy shorts and a green tank top. But from the way Jake’s eyes moved over her, possessive and fiery, you’d think she was naked. Her body responded. Her core tightened and her nipples puckered. Jake noticed, the heat in his eyes snapping.

  He was wearing fatigues, a white t-shirt that outlined his muscles, and his dog tags. His jaw was unshaven and Ivy could see fine lines of weariness around his eyes.

  She pushed her hair back and lifted her face, drawn to his warmth. “Hi.” Her voice was thick with sleep.

  He took a step forward, brought his body flush against hers, wove his hand into her hair, and held her for a kiss that was deep and searching and so hot it scorched.

  Damn, he felt good. She loved the strength of his arms, the solid wall of his chest against her soft curves. There wasn’t space for air between them. His chest lifted with breath and rubbed against her sensitive breasts and Ivy moaned her pleasure into his mouth.

  Jake broke the kiss but only so that he could nibble at her lips. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

  He was undeniably hard, his thick shaft pressing against her belly.

  “Hmmm, and I thought that was a pistol in your pocket.” She smiled against his lips and felt his laughter rumble through his chest.

  He kicked the door shut behind them.

  “I’ve been like this for days.” He slid a leg between hers, lifted her hips so that her sweet spot received attention, and slid his hands up her rib cage so that he could caress her beaded nipples with his thumbs. Ivy’s head fell back as she savored the sweet sensations and Jake lowered his mouth to the soft skin behind her ear. “You’re incredible. Everything about you.” He began moving them toward her bed. “But I especially love this—“ He nipped softly at her ear and was rewarded with the sharp intake of her breath, the mewling sound it pulled from her throat. “Your response. So open and honest.”

  He lowered her to the mattress. “Open your eyes, Ivy.”

  Ivy did as he asked, watching him pull his shirt over his head.

  But she didn’t want more of the same, not that there was anything wrong with what had happened here a few days ago. But she wanted to give. She wanted control. And she wanted to watch Jake as he received every one of her intentions.

  “I don’t think so, Jake,” she said, standing up. “Last time was all about me.” Every time. She hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pulled him closer. “Remember all that talk about equality being good for a relationship?” She lowered her head and sank her teeth into his nipple. It beaded in her mouth and she laved it with her tongue. “I believe you, Jake.”

  But he was shaking his head. “Next time,” he promised, but Ivy wouldn’t be denied.

  “Talk is cheap, Captain.”

  “Lieutenant,” he corrected. “And, ah—“ his words slipped away inside a sigh as Ivy’s hand curled around his shaft. She rolled to her toes and licked at his G-spot, then dragged her teeth across the sensitive flesh. She was rewarded with the thickening of his cock and a long shudder that shook his body. “Really, Ivy—“ he began again.

  “Really,” she assured him. “It’s going to happen Jake.” Her fingers tangled in his waistband, slipped the button through its hole. “I’m going to take you in my mouth.” She lowered the zipper and pushed both pants and briefs down his hips. “I’m going to finish what I started in your truck Tuesday.” She gazed at her target. He was a big man, broad shouldered and thick in the chest, so it was no surprise that his penis filled out with equal promise. She applied just her fingertips, tracing the scalloped edge of his crown. He jerked in response and Ivy murmured, “I love follow-though, don’t you, Jake?”

  She lowered herself to her knees and Jake buried his hands in her hair, tilted her head up so that their eyes locked.

  “I will come, Ivy.” His voice held warning, but Ivy welcomed it.

  “That’s the idea,” she said.

  “If you don’t want to swallow—“

  “I do,” she assured him.

  “This won’t last long,” he said. “I’ve been needing you—” His voice broke and his hands trembled but held her firmly in place.

  “Hmm,” she hummed her agreement around the head of his shaft as she took him in. She circled the velvet tip with her tongue, teased the ridge, tasted his spice, and pulled him deeper into her mouth. She felt Jake’s hands tighten in her hair, the jerk of his hips as sensation ripped through him, and then their smooth, easy pump as he gave in to her demands.

  “Is this Okay?”

  She could hear the shredding of his control in his voice. It made her wet. That sensual coil tightened inside her. Her bud ached for touch. She reached under her shorts and pressed her fingers to her clitoris. The pleasure was so sharp it made her gasp, her back arch, which brought him even deeper in
to her mouth.

  And then it was over—a sudden disconnect that left Ivy confused and frustrated and wondering how the hell she’d ended up on her back in bed with Jake over her. He took her face in his hands and sought her gaze.

  “I can’t. You’re hurting as much as I am.”

  His hand found her, the pads of his fingers perfectly rough. They circled her clit, delved into her wet folds, and returned to tease open the petals of her passion.

  “Mine,” he said. “All mine.”

  But through the sexual haze Jake was building in her, Ivy felt a keen disappointment. Her hands bunched into fists and she pushed against his shoulders. “I wanted that,” she complained. Oh, how she’d wanted it. To make him lose it. She could almost cry in frustration, or scream, but then Jake’s hands were pushing up her shirt, lining her body to his, pulling her against him, and the look on his face at contact was far more emotional than sexual. The tension eased even while his cock remained a rigid reminder of his need. He pushed her shorts down and swept them off her body and then kicked out of his pants. Flushed with passion, muscles flexing as he sought control, his fingertips began a light caress over her fevered skin.

  “Just like this, Ivy, OK? Just for a minute.”

  His hands stroked from her shoulders, down her arms, to her bottom. He cupped her thighs, holding her to him. His cock nestled against her stomach.

  “Damn, you feel so good.”

  He felt good too. She relaxed into him, absorbed his strength and heat. She opened her hands and ran her palms over his shoulders, down the sinewy muscle of his biceps and curled her fingers around his wrists.

  “I’ve missed you,” she confessed. She’d missed the husky timber of his voice, the spicy scent of his skin, the confidence he exuded. She could tell right now that he was vulnerable, that he had an emotional need as well as physical, and both were intense. She’d seen a similar shadow in his eyes on the side of the road almost a week ago. He had covered it well then, not so much now. And maybe he wasn’t trying to. She lifted her hands and smoothed her fingertips over the five o’clock shadow on his jaw, the tension relaxed from his lips. Encouraged, her fingers drifted to his temples where she swirled them in a light massage. His eyelashes fluttered closed. She smoothed the line between his eyebrows with her thumbs and then delved into his hair. It had grown some and she pulled lightly on the strands, rubbed his scalp and then shaped it with her hands.