and sit across from him. She owed him that much at least for her behavior last night.
“For what?”
“For leaving the lights on.” And for being so patient with me. The fire crackled and popped, and the yellow and orange glow danced across his face, highlighting his dark hair and drawing her gaze to his eyes.
“Thank you for the call.”
“I’m sorry I sounded so giddy. I just couldn’t believe I landed the account. And when I grabbed for my cell, I punched in the first number that came to my mind.” She looked across at him, and this time, she wished the night wasn’t so dark and the light so dim, because she wanted to be able to read his expression.
“I was your first call?”
“Yes.”
He stared at the logs on the fire. “I’m flattered. More than flattered.” His voice was deep with a husky sincerity she hadn’t heard before. He turned and smiled at her. “I’ve never been anyone’s first before.”
She laughed softly. “I doubt that. But if it’s true, I’ve had enough for the both of us.”
“Care to tell me one?”
She swallowed hard. There were a hundred firsts in her life she could tell him about, but she chose the only one that mattered at this moment. “Last night was the first time I let a guy get to third base and then panicked and ran away.”
“Technically, I only got to second base.”
“Are you sure?”
He turned and faced her. “Yeah, pretty damn.”
She remembered his mouth on her, the heat of his hands as he slipped his fingers under her panties. She was pretty positive that was third base, but she wasn’t about to argue. “Still a first.”
Jared stood and stirred the logs on the fire. Fresh flames jumped and licked the sky. “Not quite the reaction I was expecting.”
“Not the one I expected either.”
He poked at the burning logs once more before sitting back down next to her. “Care to tell me what went wrong?”
A small breeze blew the smoke toward the left of her, away from them. She looked up into the ebony darkness and star-filled sky but then realized that those things made her think even more of Jared. Desire twisted her up inside, and she fought to find a truth. Or at least a partial one. She could never reveal the full reason she’d behaved the way she had last night. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, if that’s what you are thinking.”
“Frankly, I haven’t known what the hell to think.”
“I . . .” She turned in the chair, and the metal bar bit into the backs of her legs. “Steven hasn’t even been gone a year. I guess I’m not ready for anything beyond a working relationship. I hope—”
“You don’t have to say any more.”
“But—”
“I mean it, Jenny.” He looked at her and braced his elbows on his knees. “I get it.”
A silence fell between them. The fire crackled and popped. The waves rolled in against the shore. And for some reason she couldn’t explain, Jared’s abruptness bothered her more than she cared to admit. “What do you think of the Suburban?” she asked, struggling to find safe ground.
“A better business choice than the Corvette. But it must have been difficult to let go of something that had belonged to Steven.”
“Very,” was all she could say. Trading in the car had been nearly impossible. But as hard as it had been, it had been the right choice. A sound business decision, just like Jared had said, and one she should have made months ago. “Here.” She dug in the pocket of her sweatshirt and pulled out the spare set of keys she’d tucked in there before leaving the house. “So you don’t have to keep borrowing Zeke’s truck for all those trips to the lumberyard.”
He palmed the keys, seeming to weigh them in his hand. “You knew about that?”
“How could I not?” She made a sweeping gesture around the place. “I’ve never properly thanked you for all the work you’ve done here. The place hasn’t looked so good since . . .” She laughed. “Well since I don’t know when.” She crossed her ankles. “You want to hear the best part?”
He tucked the keys in the front pocket of his Levi’s. “Definitely.”
“With the amount I owed on the Corvette and the price of the Suburban, it was a straight trade. No car payment. God, that feels good.”