A Deal With the Devil (25 page)

Luigi glanced up as they approached and when he spotted Jake and Amanda, his cherub-like face transformed into huge smile, displaying a generous set of unevenly-spaced teeth.

“Jake. It’s good to see you, my friend,” Luigi said in his accented English. He grasped Jake’s hand with both of his and pumped heartily. His eyes danced as he turned to Amanda and kissed each cheek. Then he pressed a hand to his heart and his velvet brown eyes bore into hers as he said, “Amanda, I will pretend I’m not heartbroken that you’ve stayed away so long.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand, while carefully avoiding Jake’s I-told-you-so gaze. “I promise I won’t let so much time pass again.”

Luigi seemed satisfied with her response and as the hostess approached; he waved her away and led the couple to their favorite semi-private booth in the back. Once there, he lit the candles in the center of the table and then announced, “I cook something special. No menu.”

Jake winked at Amanda as he said, “Anything you make will be great.”

Luigi grinned and hurried toward the kitchen.

“I hate to say I told you so,” Jake said, his blue eyes dancing. “But I told you so.”

Amanda giggled. “I never noticed before.”

“I don’t know how you could’ve missed it.”

“He’s a charmer,” she said. “He probably does that same routine with all the ladies.”

“He seems to have a special thing for you.” Jake said.

The U-shaped booth had been built to accommodate intimate dinners for two and she found it impossible to ignore Jake’s hard, muscular thigh as it pressed against her. Even through the thick fabric of her jeans, his touch made her skin tingle. She shifted away slightly.

The waitress arrived with two glasses of champagne and a plate of calamari. After she left, Jake lifted his flute and turned to Amanda. “My new brand platform deserves a toast, as does its architect.” He smiled. “Here’s to Second Chances.”

“You came up with it. But I agree; definitely toast-worthy.” Her leaded crystal flute clinked against his. Then she tipped her glass and took a sip. “It’s a great brand idea, Jake.” She set her glass down and transferred some calamari to her plate.

“It definitely captures the core reason for starting the business. I can’t wait to see how you weave it into the presentation for Monday.”

“I’d love to hear why the phrase resonates so much. I mean—besides the obvious.” She speared a calamari and popped it into her mouth.

“I’ve known a lot of injured men and I’ve seen the different ways the wounded handle the situation.” He paused and appeared to consider his next words carefully. “Some dig in and go at it—charge right into—the process of moving on. They don’t hesitate to change course and continue making plans for their life.” His mouth twisted. “Others struggle to even see the possibilities. That’s hard to watch and when it’s someone you really care for, it makes you feel damned helpless.”

“I can’t imagine what it would be like to watch someone you love struggle through those injuries. Especially on top of how much they’ve already given; how much they’ve sacrificed.” She found his dedication and passion admirable. It made her career in brand strategy seem all the more hollow by comparison. “So will your company get involved in the physical aspects of their recovery?”

“Not really. I want to structure programs and services to cover what the VA misses. Right now, the government has significant issues as it relates to diagnosing the invisible wounds. Things like PTSD and even the effect of concussive injuries on the brain.”

She tilted her head to the side. “But the VA covers those things, don’t they?”

He shrugged. “Yes and no. They cover it, but the truth is a lot of guys get misdiagnosed—especially as it relates to depression or PTSD or traumatic brain injuries caused by IEDs. And if they’re misdiagnosed, they tend to fall through the cracks.”

“That’s horrible. I never realized.”

He glanced at her sideways. “I know. It’s shocking and it can ruin lives.” He turned toward her. “Some of these injuries, if unaddressed, can lead to suicide. Did you know more veterans commit suicide in a year than have been killed in the wars of Iraq and Afghanistan combined? My business will combine treatment of those invisible wounds with post-military work programs. The military was something they believed in. Now that they’re out, beyond the healing, it’s important they find something else they can be as passionate about.”

“I can’t believe the difference your business is going to make.” It actually made her feel better about how they were deceiving everyone. It made it seem worth it.

“It feels good to do something that can make a difference.” His grin crinkled the corners of his eyes as he leaned forward and gazed at her intently.

Her breath caught in her throat and she snatched up her glass and sipped, trying to ignore the devastating effect of his smile.

“Anyway, the next step is to get the business funded,” he said. “The private sector has to help because who knows how long it will take the government to solve the problem for those that do slip through the cracks,” he said, as he raked a hand through his hair. “Even if they heal physically, if there are sustained psychological or traumatic brain injury or if the men can’t envision a future where they’re as fulfilled, maybe even more so, than they were before, then what’s the point?” He pushed against the back of the booth and pounded his fist on the table. “They just need some help; some direction and they’ll find their hope again.”

She’d never seen this side of Jake before. Not really. She’d only had glimpses. It was a side of him he hid from her, from everyone—the side disguised behind a grin, a kiss or a change of subject. And it only made her fall harder.

“So what made you think of taking this on?” she asked.

The waitress appeared at the table and uncorked a bottle of Chianti. Jake did a quick tasting and nodded his approval. She poured two glasses and disappeared again.

“I saw good buddies struggle. Strong men, you know? And I wanted them to know it’s never too late to change your life. Everyone deserves a second chance.” He popped another bite of calamari into his mouth, no doubt to keep himself from saying more. His face, what Amanda could see of it in the shadows, appeared tinged with pink.

She bit back a smile. Her warrior faced man-made weapons and crazed terrorists without fear, but his own emotions made him squirm.

“You won’t have a problem getting your business funded. I just
know
it.” His perspective inspired her and surprised her, given his unforgiving views on members of his own family. This prompted her to say, “It’s such an optimistic viewpoint.”

He cast a lopsided grin as he picked up his wine glass. “What. You mean coming from me?”

But before she had a chance to answer, the waitress returned with a basket of warm rolls. By the time the waitress left, she rethought her answer. She didn’t want to do anything, say anything to spoil the mood. He had opened up to her more in the last half hour than ever before and she just wanted to enjoy the moment. Who knew when it might come again, if ever.

She shook her head ruefully. “I forgot what I was going to say. The bread distracted me.” She leaned over and closed her eyes as she breathed in the fragrant aroma. Then she reached into the basket and pulled out a piping hot roll. “I think I’m in love . . .” Jake regarded her with barely-concealed amusement as she slathered a generous amount of butter onto the warm bread. “This means a double workout tomorrow, but right now, I simply
do not
care.” She bit into the bread, closed her eyes and moaned.

“I think I’m jealous,” he said. “You never looked at me that way.”

She laughed. “That’s because I can’t butter you.”

His mouth spread into wicked grin and he winked as he said, “You never asked.”

Her stomach fluttered. “Aren’t you going to have any?”

He patted his mid-section. “I don’t need bread. I’ve only been back a week and—at the rate I’ve been shoveling in food—I’ll turn into one of those couch potatoes I despise so much within a matter of months.”

“Please.” She buttered another bite. “No one
needs
bread. The best things in life are not what we need; they’re about what we
want
.” She popped the bread into her mouth and picked up her wine glass, peering at him over the rim.

Kate was right. It wasn’t over for her. Relaxed and emboldened by the wine, she buttered another piece and leaned over, teasing the warm bread to Jake’s lips. He opened his mouth and his eyes never left hers as she popped it in. “Well?”

Jake nodded and after he swallowed, he gestured to the basket and said, “Hit me up.”

She giggled and handed him a roll just as the waitress appeared with their entrees.

Jake looked down at his plate and eyed his entrée with lust. “Is this what I think it is?”

The waitress smiled and nodded. “Lobster ravioli; Luigi said it was your favorite.”

“Oh no,” Amanda gazed at her plate with a mixture of anticipation and dread. “Cream sauce.” She reached over and touched his arm. “I’m going to try to find the strength to stop when I’m halfway done. If I can’t, pull the plate away. Rescue me from the Lobster Ravioli or I might have to buy a whole new wardrobe.”

Jake took a bite and chewed. “Live a little. Eat it all.”

She scowled. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to fit into skinny jeans.”

He grinned at her. “I think you look great in your skinny jeans.”

They sipped at their wine and fell into silence. A few moments later, the waitress reappeared to clear the table and Luigi followed with a plate of tiramisu and two forks—a big plate of tiramisu.

Amanda’s mouth—the one she’d thought completely satisfied for the night—if not the week, began to water. “
Luigi
…”

“The dessert looks perfect, Luigi, just like the meal. We’ll enjoy every crumb.”

“And I’ll leave you to it, my friends.”

As he disappeared, Amanda eyed the decadent concoction in horror. “Please don’t let me eat any dessert. After that dinner, I don’t need any.

“But you said it’s not about needing, it’s about
wanting
, remember?” Jake dug into the luscious-looking sweet and danced the mounded fork toward her mouth. “Open up.”

Her gaze moved from the fork to his eyes as she said, “Are you trying to tempt me?”

“Maybe.” His voice was a husky whisper. “Is it working?”

It was working alright. She looked deep into his ocean blue gaze and felt lost, gone. She dragged her eyes from his and turned her attention to the dessert. It was safer for her heart, if not her waistline. She dug her fork into the creamy tiramisu and popped it in her mouth. “Yummy,” she cooed, as she closed her eyes. She savored the taste and then ran her tongue around her lips and said, “There are no words.”

“I agree.” He regarded her with a burning intensity and then his gaze shifted lower. He brushed a finger at the side of her lips and said, “You forgot something.”

She looked from his finger to his face and, emboldened by the wine and the man, she closed her lips around his warm skin and licked off the sweet remnants of the dessert.

“Amanda,” Jake whispered as his lips touched hers.

Her heart thumped madly in response and to steady herself, she rested a hand on his thigh. With the other, she traced a finger along his strong jaw and then tenderly cupped his cheek.

“You enjoy the tiramisu?” Luigi appeared delighted to have caught them mid kiss.

They sprang apart like guilty teenagers, caught necking.

She cleared her throat. “Luigi, dinner . . . everything . . . tasted amazing.”

Luigi beamed. “Then you will not wait as long next time. No?” He shifted his gaze to Jake who smiled and patted his belly.

“No chance. Now that I’m back, we’ll be regulars.” He turned to Amanda. “Are you ready?”

She slid out of the booth, kissed Luigi on both cheeks and then headed toward the front of the restaurant. Jake settled their bill and followed a few moments later after he’d collected their coats. He helped Amanda into hers before they stepped outside.

“Jake. That was a wonderful dinner. Thank you.”

“I agree. I haven’t eaten so well in a year.”

Unable to resist, she jabbed him playfully in the ribs. “You didn’t like my steak dinner at the cabin?”

“Okay, it’s my
second
best meal in a year.” He threw his hands high.

“You’re a very bad liar.” Amanda snickered. But as her laughter faded, her thoughts drifted back to her meeting with Max yesterday and her mood sobered. She had felt guilty about it all day, but after dinner, she felt closer to him than ever and hated keeping it from him. It felt like her whole week had become a lie and she couldn’t bear to tell another. She wanted to be honest with Jake. Before she had time to think through the consequences, she said, “Jake, I’ve been thinking about your brand. Something you said about why your business appealed to you.”

She paused and he glanced down at her and smiled. “What.”