Jake grinned. “Alex’s, of course, will be made of bubble gum.”
“What about your wife?”
Jake could tell by the way Jenna looked at him, the fact she was even here with him, that she—along with everyone in Laramie and half the people in the state of Texas—had heard about his divorce from Melinda Carrington the year after Alex was born. Melinda had wanted—and won—a large chunk of Jake’s trust fund from his parents. He had considered it a small price to pay for his freedom and custody of his beloved only daughter. “Melinda is in Europe, getting over the end of yet another romance, this one was with an Italian count. She’s upset because she really wants to get married again, to someone who can give her the kind of ultraglamorous life I never did. Apparently, the allure of single life has worn thin.” Jake understood that. He was tired of being alone, too. Tired of regretting the way his romance with Jenna had ended. The way both of them had been hurt.
“I’ve seen her pictures on the society pages of the Dallas papers. She’s very beautiful.”
“On the outside,” Jake confirmed.
“And well-bred,” Jenna continued in a way that let him know she was determined to lay all their cards on the table. “Your parents must have approved of her.”
And still did, unfortunately despite everything. But he didn’t want to get into that now, and certainly not with Jenna on what was supposed to be their night. Jake slowed the truck as he approached the turnoff, some fifteen miles outside of Laramie. The native limestone country inn was set back from the highway in a grove of live oaks. It was softly lit from within. The grounds were landscaped and very private. Glad to see the owners had followed his instructions to a T and cleared everyone else out, including the staff, before they arrived, Jake parked in front and cut the motor. “I hope you don’t mind. I selected the place.”
“Obviously not in Laramie,” Jenna added, her accusatory look reminding him of all the times they had seen each other on the sly when they were teens. Too late, Jake realized how it seemed to Jenna. She was wrong if she thought he was ashamed to be seen with her. Quite the contrary. “I wanted something more private, so we could talk without interruption,” Jake explained. “So I rented the inn for the evening.”
“You mean the dining room?” Jenna ascertained.
Jake shook his head, “The entire inn.”
Shock widened Jenna’s eyes, then turned them an icy blue. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
Once again, to Jake’s dismay, Jenna obviously suspected his intentions were not at all chivalrous or forthright. “You really are pulling out all the stops,” she said, clearly displeased.
Jake got out of the truck, his hopes of a lovely intimate dinner with the only woman he had ever loved fading fast. He knew he’d made mistakes in the past where Jenna was concerned. Whether she was ready to admit it or not, she had done the same by him. Nevertheless, he was getting tired of defending himself, and having her look at him as if all he were trying to do here was take her to bed. He circled around to open her door. “I have money. I’m not afraid to put it to good use. Getting you on my side—and Alex’s—is very good use.”
Reluctantly, Jenna allowed Jake to escort her up the front steps and across the porch. “Speaking of Alex, you really should be home with her this evening.”
“Funny.” Jake held the door and guided her through the wide front hall to the beautiful dining room to their left. The long table for sixteen had been pushed against the wall. It was covered with a linen tablecloth and a variety of silver chafing dishes. A smaller table had been placed in front of the huge stone hearth, and was beautifully set for two. In deference to the summer heat outside, and the air-conditioning inside, there was no fire. Instead, a dozen lit candles were artistically arranged in the grate. Vases of freesia and baby’s breath—Jenna’s favorite—abounded. Soft music from their youth filled the room.
“And yet,” Jenna continued, looking at Jake as if he were anything but a good guy to have around, “you’re here with me.”
Jake uncovered their salads and poured the wine. “In order to get you to help out Alex and me.”
Jenna accepted the wine with a nod. “Texas is full of designers.” She kept her eyes on his as Jake sat down opposite her.
“But only one of you,” Jake countered, trying to imagine what it would be like to have Jenna back in his life again, not as the grief-stricken teen she had been when they parted, but the strong, self-assured woman she had become.
“Why me?” Jenna whispered, suddenly looking as torturously unhappy as he had felt all these years without her. “Why now?”
Jake wasn’t about to apologize for doing what should have been done years ago. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you.” Because all this time I thought I had hurt you enough and I was doing you a favor by staying away. And then I saw you on TV and realized I would never love anyone the way I loved you.
For a moment, Jake thought Jenna felt the same way, but the feeling faded, and the sweetly nostalgic look in her clear blue eyes faded and turned to ice once again. “That’s a shame,” Jenna said crisply. “There’s nothing worse than wasting energy or time. Which is exactly what this is.” She started to rise.
Jake caught her wrist and pulled her back down into her seat. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to haul her into his lap and kiss her soundly. But—for Alex’s sake, for the sake of them—he kept his mind strictly on the business at hand. The business that would have Jenna and him spending time together and getting to know each other again. “You haven’t heard my proposition,” he pointed out calmly, releasing her only when he was sure she wouldn’t try to flee.
Not looking at him, Jenna speared a piece of lettuce with her fork, lifted it to her lips. “I don’t want to hear your proposition.”
“Sure now?” Jake taunted as he too dug into his crisp, delicious salad. “It could do wonders for your design business.”
Jenna paused. So it was true, Jake noted, with equal parts satisfaction and disapproval. Her design business did mean everything to her.
“I’m listening,” she said eventually.
Jake reached into the inside pocket of his blazer and pulled out a neatly drawn-up business agreement. “I’m offering to provide the financial backing via J&R Industries to make and distribute a clothing line bearing your name.”
Jenna put down her fork and studied the paperwork for an extraordinarily long time. “And the catch is…?” Jenna said eventually.
Jake polished off his salad and took a sip of wine. “Alexandra needs a wardrobe.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes at him and observed with a faint note of disapproval in her voice, “Why, when she seems to have one she is perfectly happy with?”
Jake shook his head, cutting Jenna off. “She needs to look like a little lady,” he said firmly. “The sooner, the better.”
Jenna arched a delicate brow and went back to eating her salad. “Says who and why?”
Famished, Jake broke open a roll and lavishly spread it with butter. Reluctantly, he imparted, “Melinda is concerned about Alex’s tomboyish phase. She thinks it proves I’m not capable of rearing Alex on my own.”
Jenna paused, her fork halfway to her lips. “But you have custody, don’t you?”
Jake took another sip of wine. “Sole custody since she was two, yes.”
Jenna’s brow furrowed. Finished with her salad, she also reached for the bread. “Isn’t that unusual?”
Jake shook his head. “Not when the mother doesn’t want custody. And Melinda didn’t. All she wanted in the settlement was money. Which, as you and everyone else in the Lone Star State knows, she got.”
“I’m