Fragrance Free: a small town romance (Sensations Collection Book 3) Read online

  Oh, the ache.

  “You okay?” a voice sounded from behind me.

  I turned slowly to see Jacob sitting in the overstuffed chair, his computer on his lap again and his glasses tucked into the collar of his t-shirt.

  “Headache.” My voice was hoarse.

  I noticed the covers were peeled back and my pant legs were pushed up to my knees. The fever must have broken for the moment and I felt better, but weak. I knew it was not over, though. I cursed myself this time. This was my fault. With my hair still wet, I went to Persephone’s the other day in the cold weather of late February to work on the books for my friend, Damira. I’d been outside too long. Then I worked the double shift for the ERFD to avoid Valentine’s Day and I could feel the achiness coming on even then. I tried to ignore it and push myself like I always did to work through it, but instead the flu hit me hard.

  “When was the last time you ate?” Jacob interrupted my thoughts.

  “Uhm…I don’t know. Yesterday morning. The night before, maybe?” I scrunched my forehead to remember.

  “You need to eat something. What can I make you?”

  I snorted. It wasn’t attractive and I didn’t mean to do it, but this was a man who hired someone to make his meals.

  “What? You don’t think I can cook?”

  “No,” I giggled.

  “Ha. I’ll have you know I can make a mean piece of toast. With butter.”

  I laughed this time.

  Jacob looked at me and I could see that twinkle in his eyes from across the room. If only it was for me, I thought, and then I gasped. Stop it, Pam, I warred with myself. Something crossed Jacob’s face, but I ignored it.

  “I really need to go home. I need a shower, desperately.”

  “You’ll shower here.” Jacob stood, placing his laptop on the floor. He walked to the side of the bed I was on and gestured to help me up. I shook my head and swung my legs off the bed. As I stood, though, my momentum and my lack of strength launched me forward and I lost my balance. Jacob quickly caught me and braced my upper arms, righting me. My legs were shaking.

  “Let me help you.”

  “No,” I said harsher than I’d intended.

  Jacob sighed and released my arms.

  “You aren’t used to people helping you, are you?” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at me, and I recognized this habit. He observed people closely, and I assumed it was a writer thing.

  Ignoring him, I headed toward the doorway to exit his room, thinking I would shower in the guest room behind the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” He lightly wrapped an arm around my waist from behind me, and I couldn’t help but lean backward into his strong chest. I felt Jacob freeze and I pulled forward, straining against his arm.

  “Shower in my room.” His voice was raspy and low, almost seductive.

  I shook my head. Oh, that hurt.

  I let Jacob guide me into his mammoth sized bathroom. I was also familiar with this room as I admired it when he wasn’t home. I would stare longingly at the bathtub that probably sat two and the large shower stall with its waterfall showerhead. It was in a glass enclosure and I could imagine the steam and warmth it produced in the small haven. There was a large counter attaching a double sink shadowed by a mirror the length of the entire bathroom.

  Jacob must have noticed me staring at the tub because he suggested a bath.

  “I don’t want to impose. Really, I think the fever broke. I’m sweaty, I know, and I’ll just feel better if I shower. At home.”

  “Pam,” his voice was firm. “You aren’t leaving.”

  He lightly pushed me to sit on the toilet and I had to admit, I didn’t think I could stand in a shower. My little walk to the bathroom had taken my energy and I was starting to shake again. Whether it was from my returning fever, aching muscles, or Jacob’s touch, I couldn’t be sure.

  He leaned over me and started the tub, testing the water before pulling back. He turned to me as if he was going to help me undress and then slid his hands into the front pocket of his jeans.

  “I don’t suppose you need my help undressing,” he smiled crookedly, but I could sense how awkward the moment was.

  I shook my head and Jacob exited. He spoke through the door as an afterthought.

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  I would like to think there was something more to that statement, but I knew better for two reasons.

  First, Jacob had a girlfriend. The elusive and seductive Lucy Torrento, Italian model-wanna-be who never came to Michigan. I’d seen her in magazines. She was beautiful with straight black hair, bright blue eyes, and naturally tan skin. I sighed. She was long and lean, dammit.

  Second, I prided myself on keeping my relationship with Jacob professional. It was rare. Even I could admit it to myself. I was a wild cat in high school. I played hard and slept around more than I wanted to remember. I was embarrassed when I thought of my antics and that of my brother Jess’ ex-wife, who had been my best friend. I knew Debbie was unfaithful to Jess yet I did nothing about it back then. I was too busy enjoying myself and I chalked it up to being young. Although in hindsight, I could see that I really didn’t enjoy myself. I gave attention and I gave pleasure, but I got nothing in return.

  When I went to college, I was so happy to be free of Elk Rapids that my sleeping around was worse. I drank too much and went home too often with the wrong kind of guy. The kind that would only love you and leave you, but without the love you part. When Jess and Debbie separated, when Debbie left Jess, I corrected, my guilt over Debbie’s unfaithfulness and my own antics was overwhelming. I wanted to be the one to go to Jess and babysit Katie as he tried to finish his master’s degree at the University of Michigan as a way of apology, but with one year left of college myself, my parents refused and sent Tricia. They gave her the year off instead.

  I didn’t want to be resentful of her and I held my personal feelings at bay, especially all these years later, but I felt trapped. My father died from a massive heart attack the summer after my senior year, and I returned to give support to my mother. Of course, Jess also moved home with Katie, and I had to limit my extra-curricular sexual activity as most of my friends had either moved away or returned to marry one another. It was only the occasional summer boy after college that attracted me, and by the time I was twenty-three and had been home for a year, I was losing my interest in random sexual encounters.

  When I met Jacob and agreed to work for him despite my immediate attraction to him, I made it my penance to not give into the temptation and respond to his blatant drunken flirting or my own personal desire. I knew he would not be able to reciprocate what I wanted from a man, just like the others. A professional relationship was all I would allow myself with him.

  As I slowly sank into the tub and felt my achy muscles relax to weightlessness, I kicked myself internally for leaning back into Jacob. I was a gross, sweaty, sickly mess right now. The back of the tub was hard and cool, yet I still felt the warm imprint of his chest against my back. Who was I kidding? Did I kiss him last night? I couldn’t have, right? I closed my eyes to the warmth surrounding me, and I didn’t even want to think again about Jacob carrying me up to his room. If I wasn’t afraid I might drown, I would give in to the sleepy feeling coming over me. On second thought, drowning might be a godsend at this point.

  I wasn’t sure how long I was in the tub, but the water was cooling. I had to lie in a slanted position because my short legs didn’t reach the opposite end, and I had to brace my feet on an angle to support myself from slipping under the water. This tub was definitely large enough for two, I decided, and I tried to squash the thought of Lucy and Jacob together in it. I stood, dripping water down my body and caught sight of myself in the full mirror. I was definitely no Lucy. Curvy, pale, short. My sandy-blonde hair hung lank and I knew I couldn’t turn on the shower without Jacob’s assistance. My dirty hair would have to wait.

  I piled it into the tight bun at the nape of m
y neck that I wore for EMT work and grabbed a towel from the exposed shelf under the sink. When I went to wrap the towel around myself, I paused.

  What was wrong with this thing?

  It didn’t make it all the way around. It either covered my breasts, but exposed the lower portion of my body, or covered my lower portion and exposed my breasts. I wanted to think the towel had shrunk versus my being too fat, not to mention the towel was slightly scratchy. For someone with money to pay for a cook and a housecleaner, one would think Jacob could afford better towels, I thought. I awkwardly tried to cover myself again as I walked to the door. I couldn’t put back on the sweaty clothes I had been wearing for two days, and at this point, I felt brave enough to just grab something out of Jacob’s closet. I would explain my dilemma and promise to wash and return whatever immediately.

  What I didn’t expect was to open the door of the bathroom, walk into the dim lit room, and find Jacob still sitting in the overstuffed chair outside the needed closet. I clasped the top of the towel tighter, thus opening the bottom and exposing the dark mound at the top of my legs. I reached to clamp the end closed, which only strained the fabric.

  Jacob stared at me, not meeting my eyes, with his mouth visibly open. I breathed deeply as he licked his bottom lip. His eyes were still directed at my lower body. He closed his mouth and then parted his lips again. I didn’t know whether I wanted to die of embarrassment or melt with desire on the spot. Death, definitely.

  Jacob jumped from the chair, almost dropping his laptop, as he fumbled with it before placing it on the seat. With his back to me, I could see him rub his face with one hand, then run his hand over the back of his messy hair, causing his spiky waves to stand out further as he took a deep breath before he turned around. He kept his sparkling eyes focused on my blue ones this time.

  “I was…” I choked. “I was wondering if I could borrow something to wear? I promise I’ll wash it and return it.” I rushed out the last words.

  “Of course,” his voice was strained and he turned directly into the open closet.

  I backed into the bathroom and closed the door, leaning against it with my forehead.

  “I’m leaving some things on the bed. Take what you would like.” His voice sounded close as if he was right on the other side of the door, pressed against it as well.

  “Thank you,” I croaked.

  “I’m going downstairs to make you something to eat.”

  I waited a few minutes before I entered the bedroom again to find two pairs of sweats, a pair of pajama pants, a white t-shirt, and an oversized sweatshirt that looked well worn. I was warm at the moment, but I knew to keep warm was the idea and I opted for the t-shirt with the sweatshirt. I tried all the pants and picked the pajama pants, which surely did not fit him. They were too short for his six foot two stature.

  The stairs in Ella’s old room led into the kitchen, but the stairs from Jacob’s room led into his study, where he worked on his writing. The room was surrounded by bookshelves, messily organized, and a giant desk in the middle of the room. Two brown leather recliners faced toward the glass panel windows and a large screen television angled on the wall to the left.

  I heard a thudding noise behind me as I stood in his study. This house was a mirror opposite, and where Ethan Scott’s guest room had been behind the stairs off the kitchen, Jacob had a workout room behind the stairs in his wing of the house, so I tiptoed toward the noise.

  Thud-thud. Thud-thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud-thud.

  I looked through the half-open door to find Jacob’s back to me. Covered in sweat, his bare back showed distinct muscles as he pelted a punching bag suspended from the ceiling.

  Thud-thud. Thud-thud-thud. Left hook, right hook. Left, right, left.

  His concentration was trained on the bag in front of him and the sweat rolled down his rippled back to the edge of his black track pants. I gasped and covered my mouth to hold in the sound. Jacob looked like a boxer. His arms were muscled and tense, moisture rolling over them as well. His hair was soaked and slicked back, and I noticed he not only had a tattoo on his upper arm, but on his left side, his right upper back, and his opposite arm. Reflected in the mirror, I could see additional tattoos over his heart and at the rim of his pants. I kept my hand over my mouth as I watched him shuffle his feet in a rhythmic dance while his hands continued to punch the bag.

  Thud-thud. Thud-thud-thud.

  I watched his concentrated face in the mirror and his caramel eyes connected with my dull ones in the reflection. He stopped abruptly, grabbing the bag to still it and panting breathlessly. He held my gaze in the mirror for a moment longer before he turned to look at me directly. His breath was still coming raggedly.

  “I didn’t make you anything to eat, yet,” he panted.

  “I can…just get it myself.” I pointed over my shoulder. I soaked in the sight of him, sweaty, flexing, panting, and I turned quickly. I almost banged into the doorframe, but pulled back in the last second and moved slowly, breathlessly, into the short hall to the study. I felt like I might have been boxing as well since my breath came so unevenly. I was starting to shake again and I couldn’t tell if it was the flu or the attraction to that toned body. I crossed the living room, entered the kitchen, and sank to the floor against the inner cabinets, resting my head against my bent knees. Several moments passed before Jacob entered in a huff.

  “Pam?”

  “Down here,” I mumbled.

  Jacob rounded the large kitchen island and dropped to his knees.

  “What’s wrong?” He placed his hand on the back of my neck.

  “Nothing. I’m just resting,” I said to my feet below my bent knees.

  “Pam, you need to be upstairs.”

  “The couch is fine for now.”

  “Lilac,” he said softly. I hated when he used that nickname. I didn’t like to think of that night. The night we met. I especially didn’t like it when he used it in that pleading tone.

  “I’ll make you some tea and toast. How about eggs?”

  “Sure,” I replied, resolved.

  Jacob helped me stand and I noticed he had pulled on a sweatshirt. His hair was soaking wet and sticking out at odd, sexy angles, and I walked shakily to the swinging kitchen door. I trudged to the couch and sat with a thump, resting my head on the back of the couch. A drizzling snow was dropping outside the large window, immediately melting on the cement walk around Jacob’s in-ground pool, a rarity for someone living on Lake Michigan, and I watched the gloomy weather, feeling my eyes slowly close. I heard a bang come from the kitchen and rolled my head in that direction. I shifted my legs up onto the couch and leaned my side into the couch back, continuing to rest my head as I closed my eyes and instantly fell back to sleep.

  Chapter 4

  I awoke when I felt the need to stretch my legs. I was lying on my side on the cool leather couch with my grandmother’s quilt wrapped around me and a bed pillow under my head. A cup of tea and a plate with toast and eggs sat untouched on the glass coffee table in front of me. The light outside was growing darker. It was still winter and although the days were growing longer, it was dark early. My sense of time was off. If I woke at four in the morning, I probably showered around late morning. It had to be almost six in the evening by now. I stretched my legs again. Oh, the ache was better and lengthening my legs felt good. I looked towards my toes and noticed Jacob sitting upright on the perpendicular couch, his feet up and crossed at the ankles on the glass table. His eyes were closed and his head was back. He must have showered because he now wore jeans and a gray t-shirt with a flannel shirt unbuttoned over it. This was his signature writing look.

  As I lie there staring at him, his head lolled forward and he grabbed the laptop on his legs with a jerk. He pushed himself upward slightly and looked over at me.

  “When was the last time you slept?” I asked.

  “Yesterday. Sometime.” Then he added. “You didn’t eat. It’s definitely cold by now.”

  “You ne
ed some sleep, Jacob, or you’ll be sick like me.”

  He shook his head and went to sit forward, placing the laptop on the table. I sat all the way up and ran a hand over my hair. Ew, I thought. I knew my long, sandy blond hair did not do well without a daily wash. Two days now, sweating from fever, I was sure it looked dark and greasy.

  “Did you eat something?” I asked him.

  “I had pizza.”

  I laughed. He really was helpless, eating like a college kid, but when I thought of him working out earlier, punching that bag like he was fighting for his life, I knew that eating junk food had no effect on his body.

  “I need a real shower. Do you mind?”

  He smiled. “Absolutely not,” he said and stood as I did. He made for his rooms and I paused.

  “Um, I was thinking I could shower in Ethan or Ella’s old room.” I didn’t think I could handle that gorgeous shower upstairs with the rainwater shower head.

  “No. You’ll shower upstairs.” His tone of voice was one I didn’t recognize, and Jacob shook his head.

  “I’m sorry. Please shower upstairs.” I followed as Jacob led the way. In the bathroom, he turned the shower on and jumped back to avoid the spray. A shower head the size of a small dinner plate poured water softly in angled directions toward the large tile shower base. I swallowed as an image of Jacob in that shower again flooded my mind. He closed the glass door and looked at me.

  “I brought up the right towels. Mikaela must have placed my workout towels up here on accident. I also washed your clothes.” He pointed to a small pile on the long counter. “In case you wanted to change again.”

  I became painfully aware that I had on his pajama pants without any underwear, and he obviously knew it, as well as the fact that Jacob had touched my underwear in order to wash it. Was I five years old, thinking about him touching my underwear? I nodded my head at him to acknowledge his words and closed my eyes in embarrassment as soon as he left the room, shutting the door gently behind him.