Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (18 page)

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at me.

At least the pensive and pissed off looks are gone.

“About that conversation…” he says, trailing off.

I shake my head (thankfully not as frantically as those three words make me feel). “Nothing to talk about, Jake.”

That earns me a look that states clearly that
that
is bullshit.

“Okay, so then I don’t
want
to talk about it.”

“Annie, we gotta talk about it,” he argues.

“No, Jake we don’t. And why do you keep calling me Annie?” I ask, trying to change topics.

No one has called me Annie except my Nana Jean.

When she lost her battle with lung cancer six years ago, I made sure everyone was well aware that I didn’t want to be called that. It would hurt too much, and it’d always been
ours
—hers and mine. I didn’t want to risk ruining that or bringing back memories that hurt too much. But hearing Jake call me that, it doesn’t hurt.  

Doesn’t feel like he’s ruining the memory.

It feels good and right, like Nana’s approving, as weird as it sounds.  

His response brings my focus back.

“If what we’re doing here is gonna go somewhere, it’s got to be talked about.” I open my mouth to interrupt, but he raises his hand, palm out, before dropping it and continuing. “But, we don’t have to right now. Why we keep getting into serious conversations like these in the worst fucking places, I don’t know,” he complains.

“You started it,” I mutter a little petulantly.

Well, he did.

He shakes his head, mouth twitching, but otherwise ignores me.

“I need to get back to work and so do you. We’ve got all Friday night to talk about shit that needs to be talked about, and we will. You can bet your ass on it, sweetheart. That, and I’ll finally get a taste of that mouth,” he promises, his heated eyes zeroing in on my lips.

I feel warmth shoot through me as I lick them, unaware I’m doing so, but knowing I want that.

Definitely.

The mouth tasting, that is; I’m not so fired up for the talking about ‘shit’ part.

He smirks, his eyes catching mine before he gives me a nod and backs out of the room.

When I hear the door to the trailer open then slam shut, I let out a huge breath, lean back in my chair and look to the ceiling.

“What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Anna?” I wonder aloud.

Since there’s no answer (not that I’m expecting one) I shake off my thoughts and decide to get to work.

Getting fired from the family business is not something I’m looking to accomplish.

*              *              *

By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’ve only hit two blunders.

The first isn’t entirely my fault.

I mean, if Robby had learned to print things legibly I wouldn’t have spent fifteen minutes trying to figure out what his note said, and then another twenty minutes on the phone with the supplier arguing over something they didn’t even have.

Apparently telling them to stop wearing their ass as a hat and learn their stock isn’t smiled upon.

Whatever.

When Robby found me, I was hunched over the desk, head in my hands, mumbling irately to myself. Safe to say when he pointed out the mistakes, my irate mumblings found a live target.

He didn’t stick around.

The second incident happened later in the day, though it wasn’t technically work related.

I’d finished downing the ginormous Diet Pepsi I popped over to the gas station to get and my bladder was screaming at me. I was in such a rush that I just yanked my pants down and, without looking, took a seat, only to keep going and wind up with my ass in the bowl. The infuriated and shocked scream that left my throat was one I’d never heard myself make.

I wasn’t aware that the small window in the bathroom was open, so when I walked out (after more irate mumbling to myself) Robby and Jake were waiting with matching looks of concern on their faces. When they caught sight of mine, Jake’s eyebrows shot up and Robby made the smart choice and backed up, bringing his hands up in a placating manner.

“What happened, Anna?”

I narrowed my eyes on Robby before responding, and when I did, I did it through clenched teeth.

“Someone left the
freaking
toilet seat up. Know how I know? Sure as hell wasn’t ’cause I looked. Oh, no. I ended up
ass deep
in it.”

Robby gulped, but I knew it wasn't because he was scared. The jerk was swallowing his laughter. Jake, on the other hand, did no such thing; a chuckle flies right out of his mouth.

I sliced my eyes towards him and glared.

“This is not funny,” I screeched with a stomp of my foot.

That’s right.

Stomp. Of. My
.
Foot.

He just shook his head, a small smile playing around his mouth before turning around and walking back out, Robby was right behind him with his shoulders shaking.

I’m ashamed to say I might’ve stomped my foot (again) before emitting a very unladylike noise of annoyance.

It was met with laughter.

Both
of theirs.

I rolled my eyes and headed back to the office, making sure to slam the door even though no one was around to witness it.

Other than those incidents, though, the day went over smoothly and now it was time to clock out and head home.

Gathering my things, I shutdown my laptop and stuff it into my black faux leather computer bag covered in a woven design.

It always reminded me of when I was in kindergarten and had to weave two pieces of construction paper together for a placemat for our Thanksgiving feast—thankfully it didn’t look like construction paper.

I sling the bag and purse over my shoulder after slipping on my jacket and head out of the office, down the hallway and out the door, where—wouldn’t you know it—I run
smack dab
into Jake.

Again.

I’m at the point where I honestly think he’s starting to do it on purpose. Just waiting for me to come around a corner and then jumping in my way to make me look like a dork.

My hands shoot out to brace myself but he’s already brought his up to my biceps to steady me.

“Whoa there, sweetheart. What’s got you in such a rush?” he asks, looking down at me.

I tilt my head back, not nearly as far as normal since I'm on the bottom step on the trailer, but still far enough. “No rush, you just always seem to magically appear at the perfect time so I can ram into you.”

I try to fling my hand with my words, being a little flippant, but that's ruined by our close proximity. Instead, I just look like I have a tick.

He gets a big shit-eating grin on his face and I'm lost.

“Ram into me, huh? Can’t say that’s ever been a desire of mine.”

Mother of God.

I don’t think I can get any more red.

Hell, I can't even form actual words.

I just sputter out random sounds causing his grin to turn into him throwing his head back with a laugh. While I enjoy watching that (because you can’t
not
enjoy it), I shoot him a glare, and keep it there till he stops laughing and finally notices.

“Relax, Anna, I’m joking. Not about that, though.
I
do the ramming,” he informs me, a glint in his eyes.

Still, no words.

Though, I do lose the glare.

Now I’m just staring, totally dumbfounded.

What the hell is my life coming to where a conversation about who’s ramming who is normal?

I mean, with Evan yeah.

With a hot guy?

Um,
no
.

“Where you headed?”

That I have an answer for.

“I’m off so I’m gonna head home and feed Juliet, let her out since she’s probably dying, and then give Evan a call to figure out what the hell is going on with her,” I tell him with an annoyed look.

I catch a funny look cross his face when I mention Evan, but it's gone before I can understand it.

But he doesn't miss mine.

“What’s that look for? She do something to you?” he asks, distracting me.

I shake my head and put pressure on my hands, which happen to still be resting on his chest.

A very nice, hard,
strong
chest.

“No, you.”

His eyebrows shoot up.

“Me?” he asks.

A jerky head nod this time.

“Yeah,
you
. I don’t know why I’m always sharing so much information with you, I don’t usually do that. Half the time I’m doing it, I don’t even know I’m going to until it’s too late,” I huff out, giving up on my hands when he gives them a squeeze.

“Sorry, babe, but gotta say that doesn’t suck for me. Means getting info outta you isn’t gonna be a fight. Though, should say isn’t
always
gonna be since when I’m trying to get something out of you that you don’t want to give, it’s not easy.”

I look to the side. “That makes me feel a little better,” I mutter.

His body shakes with laughter.

I look back at him when I realize he isn't taking his hands off my arms and ask, “You going to let me go anytime soon?”

All laughter disappears from him.

“Nope,” he replies, his voice strong and serious in a way I know he's talking about
way
more than just the position we are in.

I will note that he
does
move them from my arms, but only to slide them down before latching onto my hips and leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

I manage (barely) to hold in a shiver.

“Okey dokey then,” I mumble with wide eyes.

Seriously, what do you say to that?

“So, what’s going on with Evan?” he asks.

And climb right onto that train of subject change.

Choo, Choo.

“I’m not sure. She’s been acting weird and it’s not getting any better. Usually I see her almost every day, or at least talk to her, but I’ve only talked to her once this week and I’ve yet to actually see her. It’s weird. She’s not bitching about things, not opening up and talking to me about it, so I’m going to ply her with liquor and sweets and see what happens,” I shrug, hoping for the best.

“I hope things work out for you tonight, sweetheart,” he offers.

I slide my right hand off his chest and onto his arm to give him a squeeze along with a small smile.

“Thanks. So do I.”

“Though, from the sounds of your plan, I don’t see it not going your way,” he says with a grin and a squeeze of my hips, but when I let out a laugh, his grin changes to a smile.

“Alright, I need to finish up some shit and you need to fill your girl with liquor.”

“And sweets,” I add, a little flirty without even knowing I’m doing so.

He chuckles. “And sweets. Can’t forget those.”

He leans forward, head coming closer, only to veer right at the last minute and lay a soft kiss on my cheek, mimicking my move from Saturday night.

I manage to keep my joints locked this time but I can't stop the warmth that invades my body every time I feel his lips (or any part of him) touch me.

Giving me another squeeze he steps back, allowing me enough room to walk down the last couple steps.

“I’ll see ya, Anna.”

I gave him a small wave as I start towards the parking lot.

“Bye, Jake.”

When I get in my car, I notice he’s still standing at the foot of the stairs, eyes on me, watching.

And he stays that way until I’m the one to lose sight of him in my rearview mirror.

Once I reach a stoplight, I grab my phone and hit my favorites for Evans number.

“Anna—” she starts, but that’s as far as I let her get.

“I’ve got white chocolate chip cookies and multiple bottles of wine. You’re getting your cute ass in your Jeep and driving it over to my house. We’ll order some pizza, Chinese, or just eat cookies, but you
are
coming over,” I boss.

The light turns green and I make my way through town towards my place.

There’s some silence, likely because she isn’t a fan of being bossed around even in the best circumstances so I’m not sure how she’ll respond. But, if I have to drag my copious bottles of wine, tub of cookies, Juliet, and myself over there, I’ll happily do it.

There isn’t a chance in hell I’m letting things lie another day.

“Anna—”

“Don’t ‘Anna’ me, Ev. You’re either hitting my place or I’m hitting yours, but it’s happening. What’s it going to be?”