I Only Have Eyes for You

Before she could tell him where to shove his commands, he was pulling her into him and kissing her, so hard but with such finesse that even as she tried to fight him, her body told her just to give in already.

It was what she’d always wanted, after all.

Jake.

But that wasn’t good enough, just fulfilling her body’s needs. Not if her heart was left out in the cold.

He let go of her and was back in his car and speeding away from the library before she could begin to process what had happened on the steps.

“Who was that?”

Sophie still had her hand over her mouth, which was tingling and warm from Jake’s furious onslaught, as she turned to her co-worker with surprise. She’d forgotten she and Jake had been out in public.

He always made her forget everything but him.

Janice didn’t wait for her to reply before saying, “I didn’t think there were any men out there better-looking than your brothers.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Is that your boyfriend?”

No, Sophie thought with an edge of silent hysteria, he’s just the father of the baby I'm going to have soon.

Oh God. Not baby.

Babies.

Digging deep, Sophie faked a smile for the biggest gossip in the San Francisco library system. “I’ve known him forever. He’s a close friend of the family.”

Janice looked at her like she was nuts. “Friends? That’s all you are?” She frowned. “None of my friends have ever kissed me like that.”

Sophie shrugged, as if a kiss like that from a male friend was perfectly normal, then looked at her watch. “I’d better get inside.”

Well, she thought as she walked up to the large front doors, perhaps there was an upside to Janice having seen Jake. At least that way, when she started showing maybe she wouldn’t have to explain as much. Her co-worker would spread the word for her.

Chapter Fifteen

Jake screeched to a stop in his parking space behind McCann’s.

Sophie was right. He was an idiot.

What if their kids could barely read because of him?

A cold sweat broke out across his skin, thinking of his kids going through what he’d been through. School had been hell. He could still remember sitting with the other kids in first, second, third grade, watching them learn to read all around him. But no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t get the letters to make sense.

It was one more way he was worse than everyone else. He wasn't just the poor kid whose clothes stank like his father’s booze and cigarettes.

He was stupid, too.

Sure, numbers always added up easily for him, but words were a part of everything, especially making it all the way through school. He’d cut more classes than he’d attended and he figured they’d only let him graduate because the teachers didn’t want to see his ugly mug another year.

How many times had he told himself it didn’t matter in those teenage years? That he didn’t need to know how to read in order to be a bartender?

But owning a pub was a whole different ballgame from merely working in one. And that was when he’d had to face the truth: If he didn’t learn to read, there wouldn’t be a chance in hell that he could keep the business afloat.

Man, he’d been an ass**le with those first tutors he’d hired in secret, enough of a belligerent twenty-one-year-old dickwad that they’d quit one after the other. Finally, he’d found one who seemed more amused by his antics than anything. Mrs. Springs had been in her sixties and was tough on him in a way no one had ever been before, almost as if she cared about whether or not he learned to read.

He still remembered the day things finally started to click. He’d planted a kiss straight on Helen’s lips, but she hadn’t been angry with him. She’d hugged him instead...then told him the road was still going to be long and difficult, but hopefully worth it.

She’d been right about the first part, anyway. He’d continued to sweat it out with her, and then other tutors after she’d retired. The bigger his business grew, the more contracts, the more correspondence he needed to deal with. People often commented on the way he did nearly all of his business on the phone or in person, rather than using email. They called it his “personal touch.” He didn’t care what they called it, just as long as no one ever guessed why he rarely used his computer for anything but spreadsheets and financials.

So, yeah, he could read. But it was still difficult to get through a book and he couldn’t see himself ever doing it for fun.

Whereas Sophie lived and breathed books.

Please, God, he found himself praying silently, let our kids get Sophie’s brain, not mine.

One of his waitresses saw him sitting in his car gripping the steering wheel for dear life, and gave him a startled little wave before turning away quickly as she clearly realized her boss was losing it.

Not little by little, but in big, huge chunks.

Hearing that he was going to be the father of twins by fall had thrown him for the biggest loop of his life. Big enough that he hadn’t been able to think of anything but chaining Sophie to him, doing whatever he needed to do to make sure she didn’t leave him, to ensure that she and his children would be healthy.

Jake started to get out of the car when his eye caught the corner of the thick book the pregnancy doctor had given them. He needed to read it, needed to know everything that could go wrong with Sophie’s pregnancy so that he could make sure nothing bad ever happened to her.

Of course, when he flipped through it, hundreds of tiny little words laughed up at him. Just try to read me now, each of those words challenged him. Best of luck, loser.