Naughty Neighbor - Lauren Runow Page 0,42
will give her hope, albeit a false sense in some ways, but at least she has that notion that love is out there.”
My smile is a mile wide as I listen to him speak.
“I like you, Jake. You’re very diplomatic. I’d love to know, why aren’t you married?”
He makes a pretend gesture, as if he’s going to get up and leave because the conversation turned uncomfortable, then takes his seat again. “I just haven’t found the right woman.”
“Picky?” she asks.
“Very,” he states with a laugh. “I’m not the type to settle, so I’m waiting until I’m with the right girl.”
His eyes meet mine, and I instantly take a drink from my mug, which is now empty.
“Looking for the right woman … so in the meantime, you’re having a blast with all the wrong ones?” Mom chuckles.
He grins. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t string anyone along. I date and dare-I-say I’ve even loved a few. But I’ve never been in love. If I don’t feel like I can make that life-long commitment, then I make sure to let them know.”
Mom snaps her fingers and points one at me. “That. Have you ever written a character who treats women like that?”
I turn toward my computer and grimace. I have actually. As in right now. My hero is a romantic who refuses to settle, so he’s dating his way around the city, waiting for the perfect woman.
In this moment, I realize just how much of my hero has been based off of not only my interactions with Jake lately, but also him in general.
“Maybe I should hang out with Jake more often to get some inspiration,” I say.
“That sounds like a plan.” He swings his arm over the back of the sofa.
The three of us spend the next hour talking about all the real men I should be writing. I’m laughing so hard at the crazy ideas Mom and Jake come up with together. From Bill, the flatulent barber, to Chaz, the guy who sits in his living room and talks to his parakeet all day, only to hear the words, “Yes, master.”
I’m wiping tears from my eyes as I refill our coffee mugs.
After awhile, Mom looks at her phone and says she has to leave for her appointment. She bids us farewell, leaving Jake and me alone.
“That was an interesting afternoon,” I tell him as we walk to my door.
“Your mom is pretty funny when she lets her hair down.”
“No. That was all you. You make people laugh, and you become instant best friends with them.”
His eyes crinkle at my compliment. “It’s easier to play nice than to argue.”
“Well, I’m kind of a hothead, so that philosophy doesn’t come easy. It’s an art.”
“Hey”—he levels his gaze with mine and takes a serious tone—“speaking of art, I know we were having fun just now, but I want you to know that I think you’re brilliant.”
My smile falls. “You read more of my books, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. You’re my favorite author.”
I swallow, touched by the notion that he sought my work out and from the compliment.
“Do you think I romanticize my heroes?”
“I think for someone who pretends she doesn’t believe in love, deep down, you know it burns brighter and hotter than you’ve ever experienced.” He places the softest of kisses on my cheek and backs up toward his door. “Now, go back to work, Lacey girl. You have a deadline.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I love it! Every single word. Damn, girl. I’m all over the place with how excited I am for this book. When do I get the rest?” Wendy utters the words I’ve been dying to hear since I started this series.
After months of writer’s block, of trying and trying to get a story together, I managed to pump out half a book in a week.
It’s Jake. I know it. The man has inspired me more than I can explain. Actually, I haven’t explained it to him. His ego will probably get in the way.
“I’m going to start making beta notes for this,” Wendy continues. “I have some suggestions, but all in all, this is addictive. I need the rest of the story. Can you schedule the editor for the end of the month?”
“I wasn’t planning on publishing until January, so I scheduled editing for December.”
“December?” She sounds horrified. “My contact at Winston Arms said they want to have their talent signed by the end of the year for next year. This baby needs to release in November.”
“That’s too soon.”
“December