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Authors: Alexis Anne

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BOOK: The Storm Inside
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But it made me incredibly sad to know getting there took ten years on the other side of the world.

Away from me.

God, that thought hurt like hell. It was like this hole in my heart was ripped open every time I thought about it.

Jake grinned and winked at me from the front of the room. I glanced at Josh and realized he was looking down, jotting notes on a notepad. He hadn’t seen anything. Jake was flirting with me mid-presentation with my boss happily oblivious.

I snapped my attention back to Jake who was still talking as if nothing had happened, a huge, proud smile plastered to his handsome face.

He was a seriously cocky bastard. For some reason I was shocked by that. Really, I shouldn’t have been. Jake was always cocky. Truth be told, it was one of the things I loved about him. There was just something about a guy willing to take his chances… it drew me to him like a freaking moth to a flame. But this… he was taking cocky to a whole new level. It was in every fiber of his being now. He oozed it. Cocky wasn’t something he pulled out sometimes and used like a tool; it was who he was at all times.

And damn it all, I loved it. My heart was doing that stupid school girl crush pitter-patter thing and… yep, sure enough… I was tingling between the legs. I wanted the bastard.

I think ‘drug’ was a good description for Jake. I wanted him, I knew he’d be a fantastic high while he lasted. But it when I came down off that high, I would crash and burn.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Josh look down again. His pen was waggling away as he scribbled more notes.

Jake smiled, all suave and seductive, and his eyes smoldered. He was practically beaming sexual thoughts directly into my brain.

Who was this man? I didn’t know this Jake at all.

It happened before I could stop it. My mind took a trip down memory lane, desperate to find an answer to what happened between Jake and me. It went straight to that night. The night he left me.

I’d done a damn fine job of constructing a beautiful, elaborate wall in my mind. Behind it I hid all things Jake. Behind that wall was another wall where I kept my memories of graduation night. It had been an eye opening experience for me. It had shaken me to my core and opened my eyes to a world I really had no idea existed.

I didn’t know a parent could really and truly not unconditionally love their child.

I did now.

I hadn’t understood that some people, like Jake’s father, were so broken and damaged by life, so desperate to obliterate their hopelessness that they were capable of lashing out and destroying everything around them.

I did now.

Because that night Jake hadn’t seen it coming, so he wasn’t able to get me out of his parent’s house before all hell had broken loose.

We were so happy, floating on a cloud of accomplishment and hope and promise. It had been such an innocent comment that started it all. Jake said, “
I’ll make you guys proud, I’ll do all the things you weren’t able to.
” He’d meant it in a good way. But Jake Sr. hadn’t taken it that way. To him it was an insult.

Jake’s father snapped. A curtain immediately fell over his eyes and it was like the man who’d been there vanished and was replaced by someone else entirely different. I’d never liked Jake’s father, he was always mean and angry, he thrived on intimidation; but that night I saw pure evil and I could honestly say I wished he’d died. He didn’t deserve to live.

It was like it was happening all over again in my mind’s eye.

Jake Sr. grabbing Jake and pulling him into a chokehold, sneering in his ear, “
You fucking piece of shit. Screw you. I’ll put you back in your place.

Jake’s eyes were wide and wild with fear. Not for himself, but for
me
. He knew what was coming and it was something he’d never wanted to touch my life.

I knew Jake usually let his father beat him up, it was easier to be the punching bag than to fight the inevitable. But not that night. I saw the fear and worry in his eyes as he fixated on me, and something snapped.

The fight that followed was terrifying. I’d seen fights growing up around ballplayers, but never anything like that.

It wasn’t a pissing contest or a fight over a woman. This was a fight of desperation. It was a fight for survival.

The only thing that stopped Jake from killing his father had been Tom. He was close enough that when I called, he’d been able to get there in time. He pulled Jake off his father who was beaten unconscious at that point.

He was wild. I think a lifetime of blame and abuse had finally reached its boiling point and Jake simply couldn’t take it anymore.

The minute he focused, Jake ordered me to leave.

The next day he was gone and everything changed. No phone calls, no explanations. Just gone… like we’d never existed.

I knew why he’d left. And really, I couldn’t blame him.

I was glad his Uncle had gotten him help. I even saw the wisdom in a change of lifestyle. But I didn’t understand his logic in abandoning me, and that was what I couldn’t seem to get past. At the very least he could have given me a choice. I think I hated him for choosing for me.

I was in a total fog and somehow when the presentation was over I agreed to join Jake and Josh at dinner. I don’t really remember the drive, I was pretty lost in my head. St. Petersburg, or St. Pete, as we actually call it, is on the opposite side of Tampa Bay from the city of Tampa. They are sister cities and between the two of them they provide the area with a little bit of everything. Neither city is huge, but both sprawl for miles and miles. In St. Pete there’s more of a small town atmosphere and the only sports team are the Ray’s. But on the Tampa side there’s football, hockey, concert venues, and a casino. I loved my little cities.

But somehow I saw none of this on my drive over the bay. I drove on automatic; following Josh the entire way, not that I didn’t know how to get to Bern’s by heart.

As I sat and waited for the valet to take Josh’s car, my door opened and a familiar hand reached in for me.

It was kind of surreal to see Jake so many times after all these years. The picture I had of him in my head was quickly transforming from the scrawny man-child who needed a haircut and something in his wardrobe other than t-shirts, into a strong, confident, put-together man.

“Thanks,” I muttered grabbing his hand.

“My pleasure. Thank you for coming.” He blocked my path so that I couldn’t move without pushing past him.

I threw my hands on my hips in frustration, “Aren’t you going to move?”

The corner of his lip pulled up in a smile that matched the delight in his eyes, “Do you need your purse?”

I rolled my eyes and huffed as I sat back down and grabbed my purse out of the passenger seat. There was no way I was bending over and giving Jake an eyeful of my ass. He stood there chuckling to himself, leaned casually against my door as the valet finally came around and handed him my ticket. I stood up and snatched the ticket with an evil glare. I may be sympathetic to Jake’s past and more than a little confused by my feelings toward him, but I was not confused by who was in charge here.

But as I stamped in a very un-ladylike huff in through the restaurant doors I realized how wrong I was about that.

Jake chose this restaurant on purpose—he was very much in charge of this evening.

We had a lot of memories here; it was one of my dad’s favorite places for big celebrations. We’d eaten here with my family on multiple occasions, and alone a few times as well.

One anniversary in particular…

It was our third. We’d both just turned the magical twenty-one and could legally drink in public. We felt so grownup going out to a fancy dinner just the two of us and splitting a bottle of wine. They’d sat us at a tiny table for two on the main floor. Dinner had been foreplay. Every bite and sip was a sexual suggestion.

And then we went up to the dessert floor.

A very special feature of Bern’s was the second floor- devoted entirely to dessert and dancing. There were secluded booths for each party, all different sizes to accommodate everyone, and in one room was a piano with a singer and just enough space for a few dancers.

We ordered my favorite, apple pie and cinnamon ice cream. I was a dedicated chocolate fanatic, but the cinnamon ice cream was my one exception. It was like crack and I couldn’t resist ordering it. While we waited for it to arrive Jake pulled me out to the dance floor. The pianist was having fun playing a polka and we had fun dancing along.

Jake was a good dancer, he had a natural rhythm but no training, he just knew how to move. And after three years I knew how to move with Jake.

“Any requests?” the pianist asked looking pointedly at us.

Jake grinned and whispered something in his ear. The pianist smiled and winked at me, “We have a very special couple dancing up here tonight. They’ve been adorable and I just found out it is a special night for them. Ladies and gentleman please help them celebrate their third anniversary!”

There was light clapping from various booths across the floor and Jake pulled me tightly against his firm body. He tilted my chin up and gazed lovingly down into my eyes. He was smiling.

“Here is their song…” the pianist struck the first chords of
Can’t Help Falling In Love
and Jake mouthed the words while we swayed together.

I always heard a strange mix of the Elvis Presley and UB40 versions of the song in my head. It was to the UB40 version Jake first told me he loved me. And just like that night he dipped his lips down to my ear and whispered, “I can’t help falling in love with you…” it sent a shiver of pleasure over my sensitive skin and made my body ache to be locked together with his.

He wove his fingers between mine and pulled our hands up to his heart, pressing them firmly against his chest. “I’ve never been so happy being a fool.”

I laughed and snuggled into his chest, “It’s fun being a fool,” I agreed. But even then, somewhere in the back of my mind and heart, I felt the dread. We were so happy, but it had a limit. We both knew there was a dark cloud hanging over our happiness. Every one of those beautiful moments was always tempered by a pang of sadness.

After the song we returned to our private, dark booth and dove into my ice cream. Ice cream, it turns out, was even more sexual than food and wine. Before I knew it, I was gasping. Jake’s hand was between my legs and he was working his magic.

“Take a bite,” he ordered with a smile. His eyes were flashing and glinting with mischief.

I sucked in a deep breath and shakily scooped up the creamy white ice cream flecked with cinnamon. It melted on my tongue as Jake’s fingers flexed and teased.

“Lick the spoon…”

I smiled and did just as he asked.

Jake groaned.

I came.

We’d gone straight home from there and spent the whole night tangled together.

We’d been fools. That much I knew was true. But even with a broken heart I still remembered that night fondly.

Bern’s was distinctive and imposing, dark reds and wood dominating everything from the moment you walk through the door. It was hard not to put every single one of those memories into their place as I glanced around.

“Miss Daniels! It is so good to see you, it’s been a while…” Marcus, the head waiter chastised me.

I nodded absently, feeling once again overwhelmed by, well… everything.

“And Mr. Spencer, I see you’ve requested a table for three this evening. It is ready and waiting, if you’ll follow me…”

I glanced from Marcus to Jake and back again. Marcus knew Jake by sight, as if he
knew
Jake.

“You’ve been eating here often?” I asked under my breath.

Jake smiled, looking as confident and comfortable as ever, “I like the food here and most of my clients seem to enjoy being taken out for a nice meal.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, “How many clients are you bringing here? How can you afford this?”

Jake stopped beside me, placing his hand gently on my elbow and urging me to continue walking, “I hardly think this is the time or place to be discussing my financial situation.”

I glanced around at the happy dinner guests and realized Jake had a point. Not one I liked, but I certainly couldn’t fault him for not wanting to discuss his business beside a table full of Japanese tourists.

We were shown to one of the quieter side rooms, they were nearly private and excellent for conversation. At the moment I wished Josh wasn’t with us. I had suddenly been hit by a wave of curiosity about Jake and I certainly couldn’t ask the questions I really wanted to ask in front of my boss.

So I kept my big trap shut, sitting quietly as we ordered wine and appetizers. I observed. For the first time I started to put things together. Both times I’d seen Jake he was well dressed in gorgeous designer suits. He was the first named partner in his engineering firm. Sure he was still driving that stupid Bronco around town, but what had he driven today? I stopped to think about my blind drive over the bay and I couldn’t remember seeing the orange beast. In fact, I seemed to remember a very throaty and nice looking Nissan Titan leading us on our journey. Was that Jake? How did he have not one, but two trucks, designer suits, and money to burn at one of the nicest restaurants in town?

BOOK: The Storm Inside
6.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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