Trust you...not! (Reckless in Love Book 2) Page 2

  God, it would be so much easier if Jake were ugly or had some obvious flaw. But no, he’s tall, dark, and perfect.

  I bring a tray of food to my granny, pull up a chair, and help her sit up.

  “Jeez, I thought I’d be dead by now,” Granny says.

  “Hush. There will be no talk of that.” I fluff her pillow and feed her some soup. One of the only things she can still eat.

  “I hired a new groundskeeper.”

  “I hope Roger is doing good.”

  I exhale a frustrated breath. “Gran, he stole from you. You suffered because—”

  “I know what he did. I knew what he was doing. With the time I have left, there’s no room for hate.”

  “I wish I could be more like you, Gran.”

  “So, tell me about this new guy.”

  “His name’s Jake. I knew him back when I was a kid.”

  Her brow furrows. “He sell ya out?”

  “No…not him.”

  “He cute?”

  “In a drop-dead gorgeous kind of way.”

  “He single?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well, I’ll try to hold out as long as I can. Get you a good summer.”

  My jaw drops in shock. “Gran!”

  “You need a diversion from life. You think I don’t know?”

  “Do you think I have a problem finding dates?”

  “No, I think you have a problem letting people in. You’re not the first in the family. You look for any excuse to turtle up, live inside yourself. You blame yer old friends, but it was always in you to be alone. I practically had to force you to make friends. You was so shy.”

  “Gran—”

  “Don’t you Gran me. Not on my deathbed. I promise you, Ashlyn—you can’t go on like this forever. Sooner or later, love is going to find you, if you let it. And if you don’t, it’ll haunt you.”

  Chapter 3

  Ashlyn

  I’m thankful for the good days I have left with my granny. The days I can wheel her to the bay window, set my laptop on the table, and get to work on my next project.

  For the most part, she’s quiet, watching the chirping bird and bustling squirrels, but every so often, I’m treated to tales of her youth, of love, of heartbreak.

  Today, instead of watching the birds and squirrels, she has her eyes set on Jake, who is shirtless, sweat dripping down his torso, pushing a lawnmower across the yard.

  “Gran, are you drooling because you forgot to put in your dentures, or are you just creating a hostile work environment for the new handyman?”

  “Pardon?” Gran mumbles, her eyes never leaving the window.

  I walk over to Gran to move her closer to me so Jake won’t have to see her gaping mouth and ogling eyes, but my plan has a fatal flaw.

  When I get to the window and get a better look at Jake mowing a nearby patch of grass, it’s not as easy to look away as I had anticipated.

  Thick chords of muscles bulge on his shoulders as he pushes the mower across the grass and into my fantasies.

  “Didn’t make men like him when I was young,” Gran mumbles.

  “Excuse me? I’ve seen pictures of gramps. He was mighty handsome.”

  She snickers. “Back then, they didn’t go to the gym and train for hours on end like the young bucks do now. They went to work. My Arnie was working fifty-hour workweeks back sixty years ago, with no time to think about muscle tone.”

  Has there ever been a more perfect man? I get lost in his chiseled muscles and smooth, tawny skin. The v-lines of his abs have me salivating, karma for my earlier comment made to Gran.

  Somewhere between his taut abs and firm biceps, I get lost, losing track of time, and when I finally snap back to reality, I see that he’s facing the window, staring in, a peculiar look on his face.

  Oh, no…

  I scramble to make it look like I’m assisting Gran, which makes her chuckle.

  “You’re young and pretty. I think a man like him would be rather taken by you,” she says.

  “A man like him dates cheerleaders with bleached-blonde hair and a perky personality.”

  “A woman that thinks they know what a man wants without asking him is a fool.”

  I glance quickly out the window again and catch Jake stretching upward, his firm muscles putting on a mouth-watering display.

  “I’m going to go take a shower.”

  She looks up at me with a smirk, emitting a knowing hum.

  I cast her a glare before leaving to force myself into a more celibate mind state.

  ❦

  Jake

  Nebraska heat can be brutal, especially when there’s over an acre of land that needs mowing. The terrain is laid out in such a way that makes a riding lawnmower an impossibility, but I’m not going to complain. I’m getting a good workout in, and I have a roof over my head.

  Ashlyn’s grandma is visible through the bay window, where she’s sitting. At one point, Ashlyn was beside her, and I could have sworn she was eyeing me for a good minute.

  Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  My phone buzzes with a text from Casey. Apparently, she’s gotten engaged to her boyfriend, Jeff. I want to be happy for her; I just wished I liked the guy a little more.

  A headline from the local newsfeed catches my attention.

  Andy Clayton Reunites With Ex-Lover Ashlyn Reed

  A picture is featured below of Andy standing about ten feet away from Ashlyn in the drugstore parking lot.

  My hand clenches around my phone. Now, I fully admit to being a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy, and generally not a very good boyfriend all around, but I would never do anything to hurt or dishonor a woman. When they’re with me, they know what they’re getting, and if they want to try to change me, so be it, but it hasn’t worked yet.

  I go inside to pour myself a glass of lemonade, hoping to catch another glimpse of Ashlyn, but when I enter the sitting room to say hi, her gran is sitting alone, and Ashlyn’s workspace is empty.

  The older woman turns to me and says, “You must be Jake.”

  “I am.” I smile back at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Mind doing me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “My eyes aren’t what they used to be. Could you read me a few passages from my favorite book?”

  ❦

  Ashlyn

  What the fuck is wrong with me? Taking a shower in the middle of the day so I stop molesting the groundskeeper in my head is a level beyond insane.

  But that’s not all I have to be embarrassed about. I spent a good hour stalking him last night on the internet, finding a trail of broken hearts in his wake, or at least that’s what I gather from the numerous women that post pictures with him on FaceBook.

  I can’t say I blame him. With a body like his, he must have women throwing themselves at him. I don’t even know how much longer I can resist him, and I’ve barely been in his presence.

  Just what you need, another mistake. One to prove for the umpteenth time that you can’t trust anyone.

  But that’s not fair. The Clarks have never betrayed me, not once. When everyone else was selling pictures of me from high school and spilling my secrets, they kept quiet. Not a peep from any one of them, and they had more to say than most.

  But the wound of betrayal is still fresh, especially since a picture of Andy and me in the drugstore parking lot has been published.

  I turn off the water, towel dry, don a sundress, and make my way back to Gran, feeling guilty for leaving her for so long, but as I approach, Jake’s voice catches my attention.

  “Shelly’s eager body jolts at my touch, her hands frantically gripping my hair. I bring my mouth to hers, hungry, demanding what’s mine. I unzip my pants, pressing my swollen…”

  He clears his throat.

  It takes a moment for me to register exactly what’s happening.

  “What was that, dear?” Gran says. “You’re mumbling.”

&n
bsp; Oh, God—no!

  Jake clears his throat again. “Is there another part you’d like me to read?”

  “No, I had that page dog-eared for a reason.”

  Jake sighs. “Alright, then.”

  Alright then? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

  “I unzip my pants, pressing my swollen cock against her soft, pillowy sex. “You’re wet for me. Gonna take it all in, aren’t you?” I say with a quick jolt of my hips.”

  Oh, no-no-no—what the hell have you done, Granny!

  She moans an addictive sound that makes me want to—

  I barge into the sitting room, tripping over my own two feet and falling on a knee.

  Jake moves to help, but I put up a hand to halt him. As I rise, I notice a pain in my knee. It’s not too bad, but I have a feeling it’s gonna linger.

  “Okay-okay—I think we’re done here!” I say once I’ve righted myself. I glare at the book in Jake’s hands.

  Jake drops the ragged copy of Gran’s trashy romance novel, looking up at me with fear-filled eyes.

  Gran casts me a perturbed look, and I almost break out into laughter.

  “Gran, I’m going to get you tucked in for your afternoon nap,” I look over to Jake, “and we’re going to need to chat later on.”

  Jake’s eyes shift away, his mouth slightly ajar, but he says nothing.

  “Say goodbye, Grandma.”

  Chapter 4

  Jake

  And just like that, the small sliver of a chance I had to make my life work just went kaput.

  It seemed so innocent. Mrs. Reed asked me to read a few passages from her favorite book.

  How could I say no to that?

  I went to the bookshelf to retrieve the book, and I half thought she was joking when she told me which one to grab. Since when do little old grannies like biker bar romances—no, not romance—erotica?

  Of course, the whole time I was thinking of Ashlyn. Her round hips swaying side to side, hypnotizing me even in my dreams. Her enigmatic expressions. Her full lips.

  I wish there were a way I could break through her icy exterior. I can think of a dozen ways to melt her if only she’d let me get close. Heck, I could even invent a few along the way.

  My cock grows painfully hard despite the dire situation I’m in, and I adjust it to alleviate the pressure.

  Down, boy. Now’s not the time.

  Of course, she’d never go for a man like me. She probably dates Hollywood types with big jobs and equally large bank accounts.

  Women never seemed to complain before, even the ones with padded bank accounts. Especially after taking you out for a joy ride. Women love that.

  I begin packing the few things I have left in the world. I don’t want to ask Casey if I can sleep on her couch, but my options are limited since our parents moved to Florida, and the summer weather would have me roasting in my car.

  It takes me less than five minutes to have my bag zipped and slung over my shoulder. I don’t want to leave, but I made my bed, and now it’s time to lie in it.

  I open the door, and on the other side is Ashlyn, her fist a moment away from knocking.

  We stare awkwardly at each other before we both stutter out, “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” she blurts out. “I can’t believe Gran…”

  Her voice trails off as a bewildered expression spreads across her face.

  “When she asked me to read, I had no idea she had Three Bikers and My Tiny Back Alley in mind.”

  A burst of laughter escapes Ashlyn’s mouth. Not the sarcastic chuckles she seems to shield herself with. True laughter. The first time I’ve heard it since we were kids.

  She eyes my bag. “Are you so embarrassed you’re bent on leaving?”

  “I figured you’d kick me to the curb after getting fresh with your granny like I did.”

  Her expression turns grim. “More like I was scared I was going to read about it in the tabloids.”

  Pain flashes in her eyes, and now I have a better understanding of why she is how she is. When her work took off a couple of years ago, her name was on everyone’s lips. It’s not often a small-town girl from Nebraska makes it big in the city.

  Then, the interviews from her so-called friends aired, and the whole world became privy to things they had no right knowing. When she got her first period, had her first kiss, and how she lost her virginity.

  It sickened me, and I decided I wasn’t going to partake in that kind of chatter. I stopped talking to a lot of folks because of it. It just didn’t feel right.

  I want so badly to take her into my arms and tell her I’ll protect her, but we’re not familiar like that, and I don’t want to scare her away.

  Finally, I say, “Ash, you’ll never have to worry about that with me.”

  She wraps her arms around her body and downcasts her eyes. She doesn’t trust me. I can’t say I blame her.

  I swallow, trying to figure out what to say to her. How I can make her feel safe. God, it must be difficult trusting anyone. If I were her, I wouldn’t want to leave the house. I wouldn’t want to turn on the news. I certainly wouldn’t want any friends.

  “Stay,” she rasps. “I have a lot on my mind with Gran taking a turn for the worse. I really need someone that can help manage the place.

  “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

  Her eyes look up into mine, and I recognize a familiarity. It’s something I see every day I get up and look in the mirror, and each night before I go to bed, no matter who I take with me.

  Loneliness.

  I’ve been feeling it for so long, though I didn’t know what it was until the whole paternity shenanigans. The thought of being a father filled a void I hadn’t known existed. And when it was yanked from me, the void was waiting, larger than it was before.

  She turns to leave. I wish she’d stay. I wish like hell I knew how to ask her to stay.

  It’s plain to see that my feelings for Ashlyn extend beyond lust. It’s not like I’m foolish enough to believe that it’s love, but there’s something there worth exploring.

  What the hell are you thinking? As if a woman like that would ever go for a man like you.

  I might be right, but that doesn’t make me want to give up. Something about Ashlyn makes me see myself beyond what I’ve been. A glimpse of the man I could become, for the right woman.

  It suddenly strikes me, like the sun after the rain. I must have her, but I know that now’s not the time.

  This isn’t going to be easy, and it’s certainly not going to happen quickly, but mark my word—Ashlyn Reed is going to be mine. I just have to formulate a plan, and I’m going to start by going to the one place I’m guaranteed to get to know more about her.

  Her books.

  Chapter 5

  Ashlyn

  Some days, I don’t know how I make it, carrying on like I do.

  I tuck Gran in, turn off the light, and leave the door ajar so I can hear her bell if she needs me.

  My stomach twists with the knowledge that one day I’m going to go in to greet her and…

  Don’t go there. Not now.

  I push the thought from my mind. She’s the only person I have left in the world. Without her, I’m a kite flying in the wind without a tail.

  I make my way into the kitchen and grab a glass of wine, hoping it will help me unwind.

  “Mind if I join you?” Jake’s voice jolts me from my thoughts, and I look over to see him five feet away, sweat running down his muscled chest.

  And by God, he must have some kind of magical pheromones because every cell of mine is electrified.

  Since his ‘reading’ with Gran, he’s kept busy, nearly completing a list that should take two weeks in five days.

  And boy have I thought of a few things I’d like to add to the list.

  You can’t trust him, my ever-anxious mind warns.

  Part of me wants to run to my room, slam the door, and hide.

  But an
other part of me wants to rejoin humanity and remember what it’s like to talk to someone.

  “Care to sit out on the deck?” I offer.

  He grabs a beer from the refrigerator. “Lead the way.”

  ❦

  Ashlyn

  My heart races as I bring Jake outside and take a seat on the patio lounge. He sits in a nearby chair, stretching his legs out.

  “Your gran’s been eyeing me.”

  “Has she?”

  “Yeah. I have to hand it to her, she’s pretty spicy.”

  I burst out in laughter, unsettling my wine.

  “So, tell me, Ash, what’s life been like for you?”

  I cock a brow. “Been like?”

  “Small-town guy like myself doesn’t ever see much of the world. I thought I would. I thought I was going to be some major pro football player. But that was never in the cards for me.”

  Jake was made for sports, from his taut, lean-muscled body, to his strategic mind. A car wreck took his career from him, though he seems to have recovered well.

  I guess my troubles pale in comparison.

  Finally, I say, “It’s been big, I suppose. Big job. Big travel. Big opportunities. I’ve been truly blessed.”

  “But it doesn’t seem like you mean that.”

  My eyes dart to his, and we lock gazes. His intense blue eyes narrow, like he’s reading me as one would a book. I’d much rather he read with his hands than those steel-blue beauties.

  I exhale slowly and take a sip of wine, trying to appear unfazed.

  “I don’t mean to pry, but it seems an awful lot like your success hasn’t been as much of a blessing as you’ve let on.”

  “Who am I to complain? I’ve reached the peak of my success, and I’m not even thirty.”

  “Success isn’t all about selling those books and movies, Ashlyn. I think you know that.”

  “Tell me then. What does success look like to you?”