Read Online The Summer of Jake by Rachel Bailey - Free Book Online Page B

they’ll be over the moon. They’ve been hounding me to cut it for years.”
    A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped me at the thought of Kelly and Eden. “You know, I haven’t seen your mother since Kelly’s wedding. She was wonderful when I was a teenager, always feeding me and letting Kelly and me turn our music up loud, pretending to like it even though it wasn’t her style.”
    “Really? She never pretended to like my music.” He looked over, his eyes crinkling at the corners, before pulling out onto the street.
    “Yes, but your music was awful. Kelly and I listened to much better stuff.”
    He put a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt! How could you say that? I had great taste.”
    “Hmm. Well, we should probably add music to the list while we’re at it. I don’t think Scarlett will go for your alternative bands.”
    Scarlett’s name managed to dampen my spirits, and even Jake lost his teasing tone for the rest of the drive.
    We arrived at the restaurant, and Jake again opened my door but didn’t touch me on the walk along the moonlit harbor. We strolled side-by-side in a non-date kind of way.
    Which was a good thing.
    Well, if not quite a good thing, it was at least what I’d asked for.
    Once we were seated with our menus, I looked over at Jake scouring his. “What are you ordering?” I asked.
    He eyed me over the top of his menu. “I suppose fish and chips is too much to hope for?”
    I tried to suppress my grin. “Actually, they do serve it. It’s on the specials board.”
    “Grilled barramundi with hand cut fries and aioli,” he read out. “That works. What are you having?”
    “The mushroom pasta. Do you want wine?”
    “I’m not much of a wine fan. I really like a beer with fish and chips.”
    “They have imported boutique beers.” I pointed to the list on the menu. “But maybe the next thing on our agenda could be to try some wines and see if there are any you like.”
    He adjusted his position in his seat and looked out over the boats on the harbor, frowning.
    “Jake? Did I say something wrong?”
    He turned back and held my gaze for a moment before taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “It’s just that I never knew women saw so much wrong with me. Wine, food, music, clothes, hair—and this is only the second day.”
    A pang of sympathy coiled in my chest, and I realized that, despite his confidence, the changes must be a blow to his ego. “I didn’t tell you to change your hair—I liked it longer, as well. Besides, I don’t think the women you dated have seen anything wrong.” I reached out and laid my hand over his.
    He looked down at our hands, as if the answers were there. “But sophisticated women must. Women like Scarlett. Like you.” He raised his eyes to mine.
    What could I say? A flirty, cocky, sexy Jake was hard enough to keep at arm’s length, but what were my chances of maintaining emotional distance when I was looking directly into his heart? Everything inside me yearned to reach out to him, to show him how he affected me just as he was. To prove that simply sitting there, doing nothing, he drew me in by an invisible cord, made me want to be near him, touch him, kiss him.
    The silence stretched; my pulse felt erratic. I opened my mouth to speak, but had no idea what to say without saying everything.
    With impeccable timing—or possibly not—the waiter arrived to take our order, and the spell was broken.
    Once we were alone again, Jake’s moment of melancholy seemed to dissipate. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, leaning both elbows on the table, his chin propped on one hand. “We have this weird relationship where we’ve spent a lot of time in the same places, even in the same conversations, but only know surface things about each other.” He frowned. “Actually, that’s probably not right. You must know more about my life than I know about yours. You have an unfair advantage.”
    Did he know about the crush and was teasing me? Or was I being