His Gift 3(19)
“It has! I mean, it did. I am. But all of this—”
I flung my hand out toward the crowd and hissed under my voice.
“This is too much for a one-week fling.”
It was barely imperceptible. Something in his face hardened, clenched. Then it disappeared, and a frozen smile stayed glued to his lips for the next second before disappearing too.
“I’m sorry to surprise you with all of this. Of course I should have given you more notice.”
“I only meant—”
“Come,” Jake said.
He gripped my arm and pulled me through the crowd, until we reached a door in the back. He opened it and motioned for me to go inside. I went. It was the back area of the gallery.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
Jake spun on me, green fire dancing in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said bluntly. “I thought you’d be happy with this. But I’ve obviously made a mistake.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?” he asked.
“That I don’t understand what you’re doing here. Why are you doing all this for me?”
“Trust me,” Jake hissed, “it was only a small gesture. Do you know how much it costs to rent out an art gallery for a month?”
“I—I don’t know—”
“Neither do I.” He threw up his hands. “The cost doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.”
“So all this. Putting together an art gallery for me. It was that easy?”
Jake’s eyes were narrow slits, and my anger was bubbling forward, ready to boil out of me. Jake was looking so smug, so arrogant. So unlike how he really was.
Oh, come on, Lacey. Do you think you have the slightest clue who Jake Carville really is?
I wanted to smack my inner voice and respond with a big fat yes, but I couldn’t. Not when Jake was acting like this.
“I point at things and I have them,” he said. “That’s how easy it is for me.” He shrugged, and my head nearly popped off.
“Great,” I said. “Then maybe you can point to one of the other girls out there tonight.”
“Lacey, for God’s sake—”
“Wouldn’t want you to leave a room empty overnight. That’s prime penthouse space. Wouldn’t want you to have to pretend to care about your weekly escort—”
“I wasn’t!” Jake yelled. I darted a glance to the door, but he grabbed my arm. My breath left my chest with a whoosh as he shoved me back against the door.
Chapter Twelve
“Ah!” I cried out. Jake’s body was pressed up against mine, his hand gripping my hip.
“I wasn’t pretending,” he said.
“Wh-what—”
“With you. I was never pretending.” Jake suddenly realized what he was doing, and he let go of me. I slumped back against the door, gasping for breath.
“I’m sorry, Lacey,” he said, looking down at his hands as though they were acting of their own accord. “I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“So you do care?”
He looked up at me then, his wounded emerald eyes seeking mine out for forgiveness. I crossed my arms. I wasn’t about to give in that easily, not even if his gaze made my heart melt in my chest.
“You do care about me. Is that what you’re saying?”
It took him a moment. Like a root being wrenched from the ground, his admission came struggling out of his words.
“I care more about you than anyone I’ve ever cared about, Lacey.” He reached forward and brushed my cheek with his thumb. I trembled into his hand. “I care about you more than you know.”
“Good,” I stammered. “I—I care about you too.”
“I know this is a bit much, but I wanted to show you how much I care.” Jake rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture that was oddly vulnerable and endearing. My heart swelled.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “Thank you. Really. I’m sorry I freaked out. It was just… it felt like a bit much. Especially the… uh, our painting. I didn’t mean to make you think I don’t appreciate it.”
“Then this—all of this—”
“It’s okay,” I said, smiling weakly. “It’s more than okay, actually. It’s awesome.”
“I really am glad you like it.”
“It was very sweet of you.”
“It took me a while to put together the show, but it was well worth the effort.”
“Wait.” I said. Shock ran through me. “Back up a second. You put together the show? As in, set up all of the paintings and decided on the layout?”