Dare to Love by user (read dune TXT) 📗

want.”

“I’d love to.”

They stood side by side in the expansive kitchen. Lucy sliced vegetables at the counter while Jake prepared a potato dish on the stove. “You can cook, too?” she asked.

He smirked. “Yes, I can cook. I don’t have servants to do it for me.” She bristled, feeling every sting of that insult. “Yes, we have servants. Should I apologize for that, too?”

“Not unless you feel it’s necessary.”

Instead of picking a fight, she held her tongue and took it out on the carrots and cucumbers, furiously slamming the knife into the poor, defenseless vegetables.

“Don’t cut your finger off,” Jake said over his shoulder. “I realize you probably don’t have much experience with chopping vegetables.” That did it. She stormed over and grabbed his arm to turn him so he’d face her. “I screwed up last night. I realize that. I said I was sorry. If I have to go on apologizing for

coming from a wealthy family, then I might as well leave now. Because I’ll be damned if

I’ll allow you to make me feel guilty because of the circumstances of my birth.

And you

call me a snob? Well, you’re a snob, too. You think just because I come from a rich family that I have no useful skills. Well, let me tell you, mister, I learned to cook a long

time ago, I don’t let the servants do everything for me. I can grocery shop, do the laundry, wield a dust rag and a broom as well as the latest in vacuum cleaners, and I mop

a mean floor. So you can take your reverse snobbery and shove it.” She was so furious her entire body shook with the adrenaline rush it took to get that

tirade out.

Jake’s lips curled into a smile. He reached out a hand and gently extricated the knife

from her fingers. She hadn’t even realized she’d been pointing it at him the whole time.

“I’ll take that.” He seemed to be fighting a grin. “You sure get all fired up and passionate when you’re pissed, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, instantly mortified at her behavior. “I’ve never done anything

like that before.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, his eyes softened. “Hey. You’re entitled to vent, too. And you’re right. I guess I had a little leftover anger from last night.”

“Truce?” she asked, holding out her hand.

He slipped his in hers and squeezed gently. “Truce.” Lucy sighed and went back to making the salad, feeling a considerable lightening in

her heart.

Jake poured more wine and they worked together amicably, talking back and forth

about her job and his. She set the table and put out the other food while Jake brought in

the steaks. She smiled at the domestic scene. It was the first time she’d cooked with a

man, and it felt good. Homey, comfortable—almost intimate.

Things between them felt right again. Which both thrilled her and scared the heck out of her at the same time.

What did right mean as it pertained to her and Jake? What was happening between

them?

Something good? Or something that would end up hurting them both?

Chapter Five

Lucy pushed the plate away, completely satiated. After the huge dinner, coupled with

two more glasses of wine, she couldn’t move a muscle. A lethargic fog settled over her,

and she figured she’d be stuck in the kitchen chair the rest of the night.

Jake held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go out back and sit in the glider, watch the full moon.”

Wrong. Not capable of movement. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m stuffed and had too much wine. I’m immovable.”

“You want me to sling you over my shoulder and carry you?”

“I’m up!” She stood, wobbled a bit, and followed Jake outside. When had the sun gone down? Dusky shadows fell over the moonlit backyard. They eased into the glider

together, and Rascal settled at their feet.

Jake handed her yet another glass of wine.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were trying to get me drunk so you could take

advantage of me.”

He slipped his arm over the chair, resting it lightly against her back. His devilish smile held her. “Baby, if I wanted to take advantage of you, I’d make sure you were stone

cold sober. I’d want you fully aware of everything that happened.”

“Oh.” She shivered with the promise of that statement, her mind conjuring up vivid

images of naked limbs and fevered kisses.

She hoped she wasn’t drooling.

Time to change the subject to something neutral. “Tell me about your childhood.”

“Why do you want to know about that?”

“I’m interested.” She glanced at his profile silhouetted in the faint light from the kitchen window.

He gazed out into the darkness and took a sip of his beer.

“Not much to tell. I left home when I was sixteen, started working construction right

after that.”

“You ran away?”

“Not really. My old man didn’t give a damn whether I stayed around or not. He was

probably glad to see me go.”

She sensed the sadness wrapped around his carefully guarded words. “That must have been hard for you. What about your mother?”

“She died before I left.”

The bitterness in that statement brooked no further prodding. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s old history.”

“Still, it’s hard to lose a parent when you’re so young. My mother died when I was six.”

His hand slipped to her shoulder, and she felt the squeeze of his fingers against her

bare flesh. “That’s rough.”

“I don’t really remember much about her. I know she smiled a lot.” Her memories were so distant. All she had were pictures of a laughing woman holding a young Lucy in

her arms, looking for all the world like the happiest woman alive. She wished there were

more.

“So, it was just you and your dad after she died?”

“Yes. He tried to be both parents, but Father isn’t one for showing much affection. I

know he loves me.”

“Girls need a mom. Your dad never remarried?”

“No. He was too busy with work to even consider it. He never even dated after Mother died.” Lucy wished he had. Maybe a woman’s influence would have softened

him. God knows she would