Jake (California Dreamy) - By Rian Kelley Page 0,4

and would play some sweet melodies.

All good reasons to get back in his truck and floor it. As First Lieutenant, Jake commanded a group of thirteen elite men into combat, and he did so well—even now, after suffering their first loss—but for the life of him he could not get it right with romance. He figured it was the way his brain was reduced to mush when his blood filled with need. And was disgusted with himself that at the age of thirty he hadn’t outgrown the sophomoric problem.

And this woman did that to him. Faster than any other woman he’d encountered. She had him before a word was spoken. She had him at fifty paces. He’d drawn closer and she’d noticed him—too late. He was already well into her personal space and that startled her. Good. A woman, alone and in the middle of nowhere, should have better radar.

And then her lips parted. He felt the simple action spiral through his veins. Every part of him went on standby.

And then she spoke.

That fast, the spell was broken. The sexual tension the mere movement of her body

created was shattered by her words. Their tone—impatient, expectant, annoyed.

“It’s about time.”

Like he owed her something and was long overdue in paying up. Well, he was off duty, and maybe this time he’d remember that.

“Ah, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean that. Not the way it sounded.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I could have used a little help a few years ago. This—“ she raised her arms to indicate the car, the flat, the desolate surroundings—“is an easy fix.”

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to it.” Jake heard the sting in his words and regretted it. He was usually more composed. Of course, he didn’t often walk around half-hard and with an ache in his balls. Because he never reacted to a woman as strongly as he did to her. And he found it damn irritating. Maybe the General was right and Jake really did need some time to play.

A frown rippled across her forehead. He’d troubled her with his response and Jake was glad to see it. She should be disturbed by the thought of being left alone to fend for herself. He waited, but she didn’t protest. He wondered, if he started moving back toward his truck, would she speak up then? But he couldn’t do it. That damn honor thing—born in his heart and reinforced by nearly a decade of training as a Marine.

“You’re going to let me walk away,” he realized.

“I’ve learned not to rely on anyone but myself. Life is less disappointing that way.”

He took the hit, but also heard the challenge in her voice. Jake could be the picture boy for strength. At six feet two inches and a hundred and ninety pounds in his skin, he was a presence. Sometimes formidable, most of the time reassuring, he liked to think. Mentally he was at the top of his game and had survived two tours through the Middle East, skinning through narrow channels in order to keep himself and his men alive. He seldom disappointed.

But she’d revealed a lot about herself with those few words. Jake felt them falling into place inside his own experience bank.

A woman with a past and she was determined to learn from it. Jake respected that. “No repeating the same mistake twice.”

“I wish,” she said. “But I was a slow learner.”

“Or an optimist.”

She tilted her head to one side and really looked at him. “The glass is always half-full, soldier?”

He nodded but felt a smile break through. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Ivy,” she said. “If you’re going to rescue me, we should at least get it done on a first name basis.”

He accepted her hand, though he knew touch was a bad thing when his body was already running close to fever. Sure enough, her fingers slipped into his palm and the heat in his body kicked up several notches. Her hand was small and soft, but her grip was firm.

If truth was in a handshake, then she’d grown from her experiences, the good and the bad. He had a lot of respect for that. He’d come from a similar place.

“Jake,” he replied. He pulled his hand back. “You have a spare?”

She smiled into her next words, “Nope.” And he received them as they were intended—another challenge.

“That would be too easy,” he agreed.

“My life has never been that.”

“Driving without a spare is asking for trouble.”

“I loaned it to someone,” Ivy admitted. “Maybe you could get me a tow