And that's exactly where he was in his life. Where he was with Kayla. Unfortunately she didn't understand he liked her body just fine and was equally taken by her generous heart.
Her gaze shimmied with confusion and hope, and he decided that he had to let her come to her own conclusions about herself, and them. That nothing he could say or do would ease those insecurities of hers. She had to trust in her feelings if she wanted things to work between them, and she had to trust in him. On her own, without his constant coaxing.
He let his hand fall away from her face, though he ached to draw her into his arms and kiss away every last one of her doubts. He knew if Jillian hadn't made her appearance at Pure Indulgence he would have made love to Kayla tonight. All the signs had been there, the desire and hunger. But now, after their serious conversation, it just wasn't the right time. She had things to think about, and so did he.
"What do you say we close up the shop and call it a night?" he suggested.
She nodded jerkily and stepped away from him. "That's a good idea."
He waited while she put away his file for Tremaine's Downtown in her office and returned with her purse and keys in hand. Together, they locked up the bakery and he walked her to her car. Once there, he opened the driver's door for her, then brushed a soft, chaste kiss across her lips that lingered longer than he'd intended.
God, not pulling her into a passionate embrace took every ounce of willpower he possessed.
He lifted his head, rubbed his hands up and down her arms affectionately, and summoned a smile. "I'll see you Friday night for the art gallery show."
"Yes, see you then," she said softly, then slipped inside her vehicle.
Jack sat in his own car, watching the woman he was falling in love with drive away, and wondered if he'd done more harm than good with Kayla tonight.
He had one more night with her to find out.
Chapter 9
Jack hefted his golf bag over his shoulder as he and Rich made their way over to the driving range to hit a bucket of practice balls. Jack desperately needed the release of smacking balls into oblivion to relieve the tension that had taken up residence in him since last night.
He exhaled a weary, confused sigh. His mind felt weighed down with emotions and fears he'd never experienced before-fears that Kayla wouldn't return the love he was beginning to harbor for her. Fears that he'd lose her because she wasn't ready to trust in him, or herself.
He was also worried that he wouldn't be able to give Kayla what she needed. He'd been alone and on his own for so long now, his previous relationships all deliberately shallow, that he found caring for another person was a scary prospect. It involved a range of feelings he was constantly sorting through, trying to figure out. He could give Kayla his love, his support in everything she did, but would that be enough to sway her, and ultimately keep her?
"Okay, Jack, how long is it going to take for you to finally tell me what's on your mind?" Rich's voice held traces of amusement, but his question was as straightforward and candid as the man himself.
They reached the driving range, and Jack slanted his best friend a brief glance. "What makes you think I have anything on my mind?"
Rich laughed and shook his head incredulously as they each grabbed a club, their bucket of golf balls, and stepped up to the practice area. "I've known you way too long, buddy, and I know how to read you in a way few people do. First of all, you've been brooding all day long, and you've started this bizarre habit of inviting me to the driving range when you've got something major on your mind."
Jack grunted in reply as he set a ball on a tee, certain that wasn't true at all.
Rich made a few practice swings before stepping up to his own ball. "Do you realize that all your important decisions over the past few years have been made out here on the range?"
Jack frowned. Did he really do that? "Yeah, like what decisions?"
"The first time was when you decided to give up your cheap two-bedroom apartment for a real house and mortgage. This is where you agonized over that decision," he pointed out wryly. "With me here, of course, listening to all the pros and cons of why you were finally ready to take that next step in your life."
Jack rolled his arms, trying to ease the taut muscles along his neck and shoulders before he lined up his shot. "One time doesn't make a habit."
"You're right. A habit does constitute more than once." Rich took a swing, and they both watched his ball fly one hundred and forty yards out, straight to the flag stick he'd been aiming at.
Rich turned to Jack with a cocky smile. "This is also the very place you decided to trade in your ten-year-old Dodge truck for your new Escalade. That was a huge, gut-wrenching decision for you."
He'd had that truck since high school and had seen no reason to replace it any sooner. "I'm a practical kind of guy," he said, feeling a bit defensive. "I don't like to spend money frivolously."
"Hell, I know that." Rich set another ball on his tee, but waited for Jack to take his first swing. "And I'm not criticizing your choice of thought process, just making you aware of the fact that this place seems to be where you do it best. In fact, the very last time we were here is when you made the decision to open a second restaurant."
All true, and Jack was amazed that he'd never seen the correlation himself. He swung and hit the ball, taking a huge divot out of the grass before sending the ball soaring to the right in the worst slice anyone had ever seen.
"Ahh, man," Rich said on a wince. "That shot sucked."
"Thank you for pointing that out to me."
"This is serious, isn't it?" Rich asked, much more concerned this time. "Usually your concentration is right on even while you're hashing out one of your decisions. Something's really got you shook up."
"I'm fine." And just to prove it, he took another shot and ended up topping the ball. He cursed beneath his breath.
"Come on, Jack. Just spill it," Rich said, putting his eight iron back in his bag in favor of a driver. "You'll feel a helluva lot better once you get whatever it is off your chest, and then we can go have a beer up at the clubhouse and toast to your newest acquisition."
This time was different. This was one time he couldn't just save up and purchase what he wanted. No, he had to earn it. And that was what made everything so uncertain, because the decision was out of his control.
Or was it?
The question nagged at Jack, and he transferred his gaze from the two-hundred-yard flag stick out on the range, to Rich. "It's Kayla Thomas."
Rich placed a ball on the tee. "I thought you said you were happy with the new dessert menu."
"I am."
Rich's brown eyes lit up. "Ahhh."
The one word held a wealth of understanding, and his friend just waited patiently for him to unload. "I'm falling in love with her." Jack scrubbed a hand over his jaw and finally admitted the truth out loud. "Hell, I'm already there."
"Congratulations," Rich said with a big grin. "You certainly have my blessing. I like her. A lot. And quite honestly, other than your crappy mood today, I can't remember the last time I've seen you so happy."
But Jack had a huge problem. He might be more content that he could ever remember being, but his biggest obstacle in getting what he wanted-a future with Kayla-was Kayla herself. And he had no idea how to get around her insecurities and emotional barriers.
"So, have you told her how you feel?" Rich asked while taking a few practice swings.
"No. Not yet."
Rich glanced his way with a frown. "Why not?"
"Because I'm afraid of scaring her away." He went on to explain a bit about Kayla's past to Rich, of how skittish she seemed to be of him and their developing relationship. And that he'd decided to take a step back and wait for her to come around on her own.