The Freelancer – Chapter 30
I was always the kind of guy girls loved taking home to their parents, so dinner was easy for me. The most difficult thing was that I had more knowledge about the situation than I should have. Daniel made a point to tell me Jenna lived with them after her parents’ death. Though I wasn’t sure why, I was immediately not fond of him.
Jenna had been right; I did understand what she meant once I was in the Whitman home. It was full of expensive furnishings and enough knick knacks to fill up my entire condo. Everything was so neatly in its place that it was hard to believe they had a child. How was a kid, even the most well-behaved kid, supposed to be a kid in a place like this?
All through dinner, I was acutely aware of Jenna’s presence next to me. Once or twice, she brushed her leg up against mine, but she apologized without hesitation. Still, I couldn’t get rid of the thought that it had been no accident. I grew up with two sisters, so I was no stranger to what women did when they were trying to let you know they were interested.
A host of thoughts ran through my head as I interacted with Jenna’s family, but mostly I felt distracted by my growing attraction to her. At times it was all I could do to keep from sliding my hand under the table and up that creamy leg of hers. In fact, the porno soundtrack was back with such intensity in my head that it became to difficult to focus on the polite conversation.
Actually, breathing was more than a little difficult when my mind was imagining in vivid detail all the things my hand could be doing to her without making anyone the wiser at the table.
No doubt she was a knockout, but it was more than physical. It was obvious she had a caring heart and she was easy to talk with. Truth be told, she was everything that I was looking for in a woman and that was why nothing could ever happen between us. I didn’t want to like her; I wanted to wrap up my case, collect my hundred bucks, and get back to D.C.
Yeah. And I also wanted to move to the beach and make seashell jewelry from my cardboard box under the pier. See? I could fabricate ridiculous lies to tell myself all day long. I didn’t want Jenna and I wanted to be the smelly guy selling crap under the pier.
Based on the twinkle in her eyes when she looked at me and didn’t think I noticed, I could tell that she might make her own move if I didn’t. It would be too easy – and oh so enjoyable – to let myself be seduced by her, but that wasn’t my style. While many of my colleagues believed in “doing whatever it took” to catch the bad guy, I was not in the habit of using people. Even if I did let something real develop between us, it would never last. At some point I would have to tell her the truth. I would have to tell her that everything she thought she knew about me was a lie.
Women always loved that.
Lana was an absolute doll. She thanked everyone for the gifts and insisted we all play charades after cake. It was obvious to me Jenna adored her. She asked if she could call me Uncle Jackson, but her mother was adamant that she call me Mister Jackson. Either would have been fine with me. I’d always been a sucker for kids and when it came to little girls…I was a goner.
Before we left, Lana made me promise I would go to the zoo with her and Jenna on Friday. I also was told by Elaine that I would be expected next Sunday for dinner. I didn’t mind that either. It gave me a good excuse to be around Jenna; strictly business, of course.
Jenna was quiet during the drive home. I didn’t know her well enough yet to know if that was a bad sign, so I didn’t say anything to break the silence. I spent the drive wondering why I found myself flirting with her every time I opened my mouth, but the answer eluded me. Finally, when we were each at our respective doors, I turned to her and asked, “Are you ready for your rain check yet? Say tomorrow night? Around seven?”
“No fish?”
“Nothing from the water, as I recall.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
I was about to close my door when she stopped me with a question. “Jackson…what was Lana whispering to you?”
“She asked me if I thought her Aunt Jenna was pretty. Then she asked me if I liked her Aunt Jenna.”
“Oh. Goodnight, Jackson.”
I liked the smile that crept across her face when I told her. It felt almost as good to see as that little shiver she’d made in the car when I’d touched her face. Would she shiver and say my name like that if I touched her anywhere else? Maybe I could take this just far enough to get my answer. Judging from her reaction to me, Jenna wouldn’t mind that.
This was a line of thought that needed to be stopped, abandoned, left for dead. I knew I was playing with fire, but she couldn’t have a clue about that. Would she stop herself from falling for me if she knew? Could she?
If only she knew she was in for heartbreak.
I finally got caught up!! Awesome as usual!