Free Jinxed by Beth Ciotta Page B

hormonal?”
    “Asshole.”
    He laughed. “What happened to cleaning up your language now that the baby’s almost here?”
    “That
was
clean compared to what almost flew out of my mouth,” she said with a smile in her voice. “Dinner tomorrow night?”
    “Sure. Joni?”
    “Yeah?”
    “No one could ever replace you.”
    “Love you, too, Jake.” She smooched into the mouthpiece and then hung up.
    He dropped the receiver into the cradle and then sat there staring at the phone, contemplating Joni’s approaching delivery date and forthcoming bills. He thought about diapers, formula, baby furniture, pediatric visits, and other kid essentials. He worried about upcoming school field trips, boy (or girl) scout expenses, and the price of a tuxedo or prom dress. As it was, Joni and Carson just made rent. If only Carson would augment his spotty musician gigs with a steady nine to five. But Joni didn’t want her husband to compromise his art. Compromising, Jake had pointed out, wasn’t the same as abandoning.
    It was like talking to a brick wall. If Jake even hinted to Carson that he should get a “real” job, Joni would never forgive him. He’d decided to give his brother-in-law a year to come around or to make it big. If he failed, then, by Christ, Jake would risk his sister’s wrath for the sake of his niece or nephew and provide the jazz pianist with some inspiration by knocking some common sense into his artistic brain.
    He was obsessing over college tuition when Afia cracked open his door.
    “I finished deep-cleaning the reception area,” she said in a timid voice.
    He glanced up to find her standing on his threshold, ponytail disheveled, her cheeks flushed from exertion, the souvenir T-shirt stained with blue scouring powder. She swiped a hunk of hair out of her eyes drawing attention to a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves and a smudge of dirt on her left jaw. She looked rumpled and sexy as hell.
    Man, he was in deep shit.
    He’d agreed to let her scrub and polish the outer room because he couldn’t find anything else to keep her occupied after they’d returned to the office, and he hadn’t been in the mood to train her on the computer. He didn’t want to be in the same room with her let alone standing over her, breathing in her scent, risking physical contact. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so affected by a kiss.
    “
You do know that we’re just role-playing here.
”
    He had definitely underestimated her skills. In addition to being observant, she was one hell of an actress. Both useful talents in the field, not that he intended to utilize them. He’d learned his lesson on that score. He needed to concoct projects, something to keep her busy while he investigated Rivelli. He needed to keep an eye on her while keeping his distance.
    This was going to be the longest two weeks of his life.
    He watched as Afia tugged at the fingertips of her gloves and glanced around his office. For someone who’d been so flip about that supposedly meaningless kiss, she looked suspiciously embarrassed now. She hadn’t made eye contact with him since returning to the Bizby, not that he’d pressed the point, because quite honestly he wasn’t up to the discussion. He needed to examine his own shocking reaction to that kiss and to get a handle on whatever was brewing between them before addressing the issue. You didn’t need to be a P.I. to detect the sexual tension.
    She cleared her throat and pointed to a dust ball peeking out from between the file cabinets. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind about me cleaning up in here?”
    And watch you scrubbing nooks and crannies on hands and knees? Subject myself to the sight of your wiggling butt?
“It can wait.”
    “It looks like it’s been waiting for some time.”
    All right, so the place was a little dusty. If he bothered to raise the crusty venetian blinds, he’d probably find windows smeared with two months of film. Probably why he hadn’t