Nobody But You Read online



  Chapter 5

  When she was gone, Jacob stayed where he was. She’d made him smile. She’d made him laugh. The muscles around his mouth had pulled like they were rusty, and they were. Smiling had felt foreign and odd and…

  Good.

  “Sophie,” he said to the door, knowing she was listening. He could feel her nerves through the wood. It bothered him that he made her nervous. He wanted to make her smile. Maybe make her want him as much as he wanted her. But he didn’t want to scare her. “It’s considered rude to leave a guest out here drinking alone,” he teased.

  She didn’t bite. The door remained firmly shut.

  He couldn’t hear anything from the other side, but he was pretty sure her emotions could supply enough energy to light up the entire western hemisphere. Thinking about her reaction to the price of the Scotch, he stood and moved to the door. She’d seemed far more hurt than mad, and that sucked. “Come out,” he said quietly, knowing she could hear every word. “I’ll help you waste some more of the Glenlivet.”

  Nothing but a very loaded silence.

  Willing to wait her out, he sat again, leaned his head back, and watched the last of the day’s light vanish behind an entire spectrum of blues and purples streaking across the sky. Been a damn long time since he’d caught a Rocky Mountain sunset. There’d been a lot of “been a damn long times” here in Cedar Ridge since he’d returned.

  And none of it was exactly comfortable.

  The water slapped against the dock and the boat. Insects hummed. The air was scented with pine, and all of it evoked more memories than he knew what to do with.

  He and Hud had ridden around this lake on their bikes. Made rope swings in trees and judged their own crazy entries into the water. Had climbed the peaks and camped out as often as they could. When they’d hit fifteen, they’d gone to work at the resort their father had deserted, making it their own. Had spent the next three years getting closer to their half siblings Gray and Aidan. And then Kenna, as well, once she’d come along.

  He realized he was smiling again, though it faded when he remembered what had come next.

  Him leaving.

  Walking away.

  He turned his head at the sound of someone approaching on the dock, a tall, pretty brunette in painted-on jeans shorts and a white tank top, her high-heeled sandals defying logic and gravity as they carried her to the boat.

  She eyed the bottle of Glenlivet and her eyes lit up. “Is it a party?”

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  She smiled, extremely friendly-like. “Is Lucas having a party? He didn’t mention it.” She looked around. “We have a long-standing once-a-week date here in front of the empty cabin. Where is he?”

  He could almost feel Sophie stop breathing from belowdecks. Could imagine her green eyes narrowing, see the steam coming out of her ears. Damn, that would be hot. But that wasn’t why he did what he did. Nope. It was because he felt like he owed her one. “First of all, the cabin’s no longer empty. And second, Lucas…passed,” he told the woman.

  “Like…gas? He passed gas?” she asked, confused. “That’s nothing new. He always does that.”

  “Not gas,” Jacob said.

  The woman stared at him and then gasped, hand to her chest. “You mean he’s…?”

  Jacob nodded.

  “That asshole!” she yelled. “He promised me a diamond bracelet!” Whirling, she went running—and loudly sobbing—up the dock.

  Sophie stormed out. “Hey,” she said, every bit as magnificent as he’d known she would be, eyes flashing, all that wild red hair in uncontrollable motion around her face. “That’s my lie! You can’t lie about someone you don’t even know!”

  Jacob shrugged. “I just gave her the information I’d been told.”

  “You didn’t even have to say the words.”

  “That would’ve been mean. If she misunderstood my silence, that’s on her.”

  She stared at him for a beat. “Are you saying I’m mean?”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “But I like mean on you. It’s sexy. Kind of like your pink robe.”

  “You’re a sick man.”

  “There is no doubt.”

  She shook her head at him, but he could tell she was smiling on the inside. He’d meant what he’d said about the robe, the one that should have made her look fifty years old but instead made him want to pull her to him and nuzzle her.

  Crazy. She was crazy. And so was he. Because he wasn’t sure what it was about her that had him so interested. He had no idea why he wanted to keep whatever this tentative connection was that they had going, but he did.

  He offered her the bottle of Scotch.

  She met his gaze, her dilemma evident. She couldn’t reach it unless he stood. He didn’t, hoping that instead, she’d move closer.

  She hesitated, but he waited her out, doing his best to look harmless. When she finally took the few steps, he felt like he’d won the lottery and casually nodded to the bench for her to sit.

  Instead, she crossed her arms. That bathrobe hid what he knew was a God-given figure with curves that could make a grown man forget he didn’t know how to love.

  She eyed the bench a long beat but did eventually sit, perching primly as far from him as she could get and yet still be close enough to grab the bottle.

  Smart woman.

  She took the Scotch and drank. Her eyes watered and she coughed as she handed it to him. With a sigh, she leaned back to study the night sky. Her bared throat was slim and creamy smooth. An unexpected temptation. Remembering the flash of pain and vulnerability she’d unwittingly revealed, and that for whatever reason he’d somehow added to it, he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

  She glanced at him as if she’d never heard a man apologize before in her life. “For…breathing?” she asked. “Having a penis? What?”

  “You were upset because you didn’t know I was a Kincaid.”

  She sighed. “That was just me looking for a reason to be mad at you so I wouldn’t…” She bit her lower lip, clearly not wanting to go on.

  But now he had to know. “So you wouldn’t what?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “It’s just that I’m trying to make better choices.”

  “Of which I wouldn’t be one.”

  “It’s not necessarily your fault,” she said. “It’s that you’re a man.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “And I’m off men right now.”

  “And on…women?” he asked with admittedly more than a little fascination.

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m on no one, but thank you for proving my point on men.”

  “I get that,” he said. “But being off men doesn’t seem to be making you very happy, or sound like a whole lot of fun.”

  “Maybe I don’t need fun.”

  He understood that. He’d felt the same way since Brett died. “What do you need?” he asked, honestly wanting to know more about her.

  Instead of answering, she reached for the bottle. He waited until she met his gaze before letting go.

  “Nothing,” she said a little too quickly. “Everything’s…perfect.”

  “And your glass is half full,” he said. “So you’ve said.” But he didn’t believe her. “How about a game?”

  “I don’t play games.”

  Now, that wasn’t exactly true. Whether she knew it or not, she’d been playing with his head since he’d first laid eyes on her. “Three truths and a lie,” he said.

  She stared at him. “As in you tell me three truths and a lie, and I pick out the lie?”

  “Yes.”

  She considered this. “What do I get if I win?”

  “What do you want?”

  For the briefest of beats, her gaze dropped to his mouth. Oh, hell yeah, he thought. Want me…

  “My first boyfriend taught me that game,” she said.

  “What did the winner get?”

  “A kiss.”

  Definitely still playing with his head… “Is that