The moment the car stopped in front of my building, Jake assisted me from the backseat. Warmth seeped through my dress as he slid his hand under the jacket, pressing it against the small of my back, supporting me through the drizzle to the glass door.
“I’m good from here.” As I dug for my keys, I brushed back the strands of my damp hair.
He shook his head. “No chance. I’ll make sure you get in okay with that mucked up ankle. As my reward, maybe I could borrow a towel.”
The small sigh left me as I unlocked the front door and crooked a finger in his direction. Not ideal, but how could I leave a soggy, chivalrous Jake in the rain?
Once we boarded the elevator, I leaned against the side to take the weight off my ankle, suddenly exhausted. “I should call Beth. I abandoned her with Greg.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t worry. Greg’s a decent guy. I’ve known him for years.”
Of course, he wouldn’t worry. He didn’t understand Beth’s fragile psyche when it came to love and relationships, or what a sucker she was for those tall blond charmers. I, however, knew better. “He seemed familiar.”
“He was in my year at Dalhousie. You met him once or twice, but he took a job and transferred to a marine biology program here soon after you and I met.” Jake followed me as I hobbled down the hallway, tilting his head as I fumbled with the keys. He scooped them from my icy hands and unlocked the door.
“Hmmm.” He scanned the space, drawing his brows together. “It’s nice. Very … posh.”
“What? You don’t like it?” After all the hours I’d put in finding just the right furnishings and hanging the pictures I’d rescued from Kyle’s West End condo? I sank onto the bench by the door and tugged off my shoes, setting them carefully aside.
“It doesn’t feel like you.”
“Whatever that means. I’m still me. Always have been.”
Jake kneeled in front of me, lifting my damaged ankle to his knee and performing another gentle probe with his fingertips. “It’s swelling. You should elevate it,” he said as I winced.
“I’m fine.” I pushed him away and leveraged myself to my feet, sagging at the sharp pain. “Ouch.”
Jake caught me. “Careful.” Seconds later, I was nestled against his chest, one arm looped around his neck for the short trip to my couch. He pulled my ottoman closer and propped my foot on a pillow, patting it gently. “Where’s that towel?” He ran his fingers through his damp hair.
I pointed to the small linen closet outside my extra bathroom.
Jake peeled his sweater over his head on his way across the room, his denim-blue button-down shirt pulling up and revealing those fine washboard abs and the tapered waist above his low-slung jeans. He retrieved two small towels, using one to dab at his face before he rubbed it over his dripping hair. “You’re shaking.”
Despite Jake’s jacket, a chill permeated my flesh. I struggled out of the wet leather and slung it over the back of my couch, wiggling and tugging at the rising hem of my tight dress.
“You’re soaked.” He brushed the towel down my legs. “And sticky. What was in that drink?” Jake tugged the bottom of my dress up. “Lift.”
I raised my arms, shivering as he peeled the fabric over my head and tossed it in a soggy pile on the floor. Not exactly the sexy scenario I’d pictured when a certified hottie removed my clothing, but still, his intense stare raised goosebumps on my bare flesh.
Jake rubbed my arms and traced a finger over the lacy strap of my bra, then removed his shirt. He helped me into the smooth cotton and buttoned it slowly, leaning so close the warmth of his breath tickled my neck. “Looks good on you,” he said as he straightened.
Nope. This couldn’t happen. “Sorry for ruining your night. I’m sure you’d rather be at the club.”
My shirtless ex-boyfriend scooped up my dress and hung it over one of the dining room chairs and his coat on another. “What, and miss out on your delightful company?” He proceeded to open and close my kitchen cupboards, fill the kettle and set it on top of the gas range, following that up with unabashed digging in my drawers before he came up with a spoon. “I thought I’d make tea.”
I thought he’d dry off and make himself scarce, but clearly, I’d been overly optimistic. Nothing like making yourself at home, Jakob. “What do you want?”
“Chai?” The corners of his mouth turned down as he inspected the glass containers of loose-leaf tea I kept on the counter. “Or maybe black.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “I need my phone to get hold of Beth before she panics.”
It was impossible to get a read on the man as he located my phone on the front bench and delivered it, then headed into the kitchen and removed the whistling kettle from the burner. Damned if he didn’t move around with complete comfort as if he’d been here a million times. In a sense, he had been, at least in another lifetime and another apartment. Little flickers of him cooking in our kitchen in our cozy apartment taunted me. This entire scenario was unraveling the memories I’d wound up tight and tucked into the back of my mind.
I tore my gaze away and checked my phone, reading the string of texts from Beth. She stated that she was fine—and still hanging out with Greg—but to please, please let her know I was okay. I tapped in a quick reply:
I’m fine and made it home. Jake’s here, but he’ll be leaving soon. Talk later.
I placed my phone face down on the side table. “Well, Jakob?”
“We should talk,” he said as he filled my stoneware teapot. “I’m surprised you still have this. Remember the day we visited Peggy’s Cove?”
“How could I forget?” I said softly.
“You spent an incredible amount of time
