Who could resist such a thoughtful apology?
Maggie certainly couldn’t. That, combined with his tenacity, had convinced her it was time to see if this thing between them—this connection, this heat—had legs. What’s more, she’d decided to take a leaf out of the old Maggie’s book. Instead of waiting for Jake to ask her out, she planned to ask him. Today, if she could ever catch him alone.
Emily’s laughter cut into her thoughts. She smiled. Her daughter had begged to be allowed to come along. Since Jake hadn’t minded, Maggie had let her. Right now, Emily was helping him and the Jelinek brothers set up his electronic toys.
Perhaps she should go and see how they were doing.
As she walked into the entrance hall, she saw Jake rooting through an open cardboard box by the front door. This was her chance. She checked quickly to see if anyone else was around, but no one was.
You can do this. She wiped her damp palms on her chinos, then squared her shoulders and walked toward Jake.
He was so focused on whatever he was searching for he didn’t look up, even when she stood behind him.
“Should be in here,” he muttered. “Damn box is marked ‘tools.’”
Maggie cleared her throat. “Uh...Jake?”
“Yeah.” He turned his head. Stopped rummaging. Grinned. “Hey, Maggie. What’s up?”
She swallowed hard. “I was just wondering...um...”
“What?” he asked huskily.
He stood. Suddenly, he seemed very close.
Very tall. Very male.
Her heart thudded against her ribs. Her gaze flew upward. Past the rock-hard abs and broad chest that molded his much-washed Ice Cats T-shirt. The fire smoldering in the depths of his ice-blue eyes captured her. Held her. She couldn’t look away.
She moved back half a step. Her shoulders pressed against the front door. Against the coolness of the stained glass.
He edged closer, that same half step. Close enough that his body heat scorched her through her cotton blouse. Close enough for his masculine scent to tease her nostrils.
She swallowed again.
His hands settled on her hips lightly. Firmly.
She couldn’t move away. She didn’t want to.
The realization wasn’t a surprise. More a recognition of the inevitable. An acceptance.
No. This wasn’t something over which she had no control. It was something she wanted to pursue. Her decision. Her choice.
Maggie’s fingers curled into the softness of his T-shirt, reveling in the contrast between the soft fabric and the solid muscles beneath. The thought of exploring his smooth, tanned skin caused a sharp tug in the depths of her belly.
His fingers tightened on the curve of her hips. Hot. Branding her, despite the layer of fabric between his hand and her skin.
She tilted her head. Lifted her chin.
He lowered his head until barely a breath separated their mouths.
Maggie moistened her suddenly parched lips.
Jake closed the gap. His tongue darted out and followed hers, licking the fullness of her lower lip.
A fiery arrow of desire shot straight to her core, creating a molten pool.
She wanted to taste him. Needed to see if he was as darkly delicious as she’d imagined. She swept her tongue across his firm lips.
Better than ice cream. Better than chocolate.
No wonder all those women were prepared to risk their manicures to make meals for him. Heck, for kisses like this she’d cook for him, and she didn’t like cooking.
Jake nibbled her bottom lip. The tip of his tongue teased the corners of her mouth.
More. She had to have more.
Maggie dipped her tongue between his lips.
He captured it, deepening the kiss. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tightly against him. The length of his body pressed against hers.
Her arms wound around his neck. Her aching breasts were crushed against his solid chest. His hardness brushed her mound, then settled in the cradle at the top of her legs.
Somewhere, a bell rang.
She frowned. She should do something about that. In a minute. Maybe.
His fingers caressed their way up her side to the curve of her breast. She yearned for them to go higher. Instead, he played with the buttons on her blouse, slipping his fingertips between the buttonholes and stroking the sensitive skin beneath.
The bell rang again. “Hello? Delivery for Jake Badoletti.”
Those words doused the heat as effectively as the proverbial bucket of cold water.
Maggie pushed against Jake. He let her go, reluctantly.
Desire burned in the depths of his blue eyes. “Come and find me when you’re done.”
She nodded, then watched as he hefted up the box he’d been rummaging in and walked back to the den. Oh, my. The rear view was just as hot as the front. She fanned herself before opening the door.
A deliveryman in a green uniform thrust his handheld computer at her. Behind him in the open van was a large stack of boxes. Adam’s things from Chicago. The last thing Jake wanted to face today.