Free The Summer of Jake by Rachel Bailey Page A

made up for anyone else’s shyness.” He rolled his eyes. “I certainly think my life’s had its fair share of teenage girl antics.” Then he sobered. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
    “Sure,” I said warily.
    He rubbed a hand across his forehead, as if trying to work out how to phrase it. “Would I be right in assuming,” he paused, “ah, that you think there were better ways to raise a child than the way your parents raised you?”
    It felt disloyal to say so, but Jake was obviously asking a serious question, so he deserved an honest answer. “That’s a fair assessment.”
    “Does it ever worry you that you’d be the same type of parent as them?”
    I laughed. “Nope. I plan on doing the exact opposite to whatever they would have done in any given situation.”
    “I guess that could work,” he said, nodding. “You sound like you’re the opposite type of person to them anyway. Not all of us are as lucky.”
    Was he talking about his father? I wanted to ask, but it seemed more of an intrusion to question him about his parents than for him to ask about mine. After all, his parents were famous. Magazines still occasionally ran stories about his father, speculating and gossiping, even all these years after his death. There was a fine line between asking something personal and snooping the way the magazines did.
    When our dinner plates had been cleared and we’d ordered coffee and dessert, I was keen to avoid another visit into my past, so I reached for a new topic.
    “How is it, Jake, that a man of your standing in the business world has been able to get away for so long with wearing jeans to business meetings and avoiding society ?”
    “Just lucky, I guess.” He grinned. “I was fairly well-known in the industry from my pro surfing days, so I think people gave me a lot of leeway. Maybe they even expected it. What do you think?”
    “I think it’s certainly helped your media image. Local Boy Makes Good, Keeps Down-To-Earth Attitude.”
    Jake chuckled. “Don’t forget the obligatory photo of me with a board under my arm.”
    As our eyes met in a moment of shared humor, my heart clenched with longing. Why, of all the men in the world, was it this man who had this effect on me? Why was someone so unattainable, so completely out of my league, the one that made my body purr when he was near?
    With a concerted effort, I drew my attention back to the conversation. “So it wasn’t a conscious decision? A public relations strategy?”
    “Nope. I was just comfortable the way I was and didn’t see any reason to change.”
    “Until now.”
    “Until now,” he agreed.
    Not wanting to let my good mood deteriorate during the inevitable discussion about Scarlett, I changed the subject again and asked him about his time on the pro circuit. He obliged with a supply of anecdotes about waves, sun, and parties.
    I had tears in my eyes from laughing when the waiter arrived with our desserts. After he left, Jake said, “I think I’ve been talking too long. Tell me, have you put any thought into the favor?”
    “The favor?”
    “I told you in the café you could still have one favor, as well as our agreed terms, in exchange for my makeover. Have you thought of one?”
    Remember blond Scarlett.
    “I can’t say that I have. Maybe dinner tonight could count?”
    “Nope. It has to be something you choose before it happens and something you really want. This dinner would hardly be something you really want, would it?”
    I felt the flutter of a blush creeping up my neck. You might be surprised by what I want, Jake Maxwell . “I can’t think of anything I want as a favor, but I promise I’ll give it some thought.”
    He made a mock-stern face. “Don’t think I’ll forget. I promised you a favor, and I’ll deliver.”
    Hmm, now that had some possibilities—Jake delivering…
    Then, as if from a distance, I heard Jake ask for news on Mindy Mini, snapping me out of the fantasy.
    “No news, Adam’s been