Julianna Morris - Jake's Biggest Risk

“You fired him because he’s getting married? Is being single a rule in the photography business?”

Jake sank down on one of the chairs, rubbing his left leg. “I didn’t fire him, but most spouses don’t appreciate being left alone for months at a time, and Toby’s fiancée is no exception. Vera must have given him an ultimatum after the accident and he caved under the pressure.”

Hannah began putting cups in the top rack of the dishwasher, thinking about the mixed emotions on Jake’s face when he’d mentioned Toby’s enthusiasm for his new job...emotions too complicated to fathom. One thing was quite clear, however—Jake Hollister didn’t understand people who wanted a home.

“Maybe your assistant didn’t ‘cave.’ Maybe he made a choice,” she offered finally.

Jake shook his head. “Toby liked the travel. He complains about stuff, but that’s just his way—he’s the one who suggested going to the Gobi Desert three years ago. For Pete’s sake, it’s not as if he was cheating on Vera, and they talked on the satellite phone almost every day.”

“A phone call is hardly the same as having someone with you. And if Toby loved the travel that much, he didn’t have to quit.”

“But he is quitting.”

She rolled her eyes at Jake’s sulky, little-boy tone.

“Well, your feelings about domesticity are hardly a secret,” she informed him. “Whenever a reporter or an interviewer asks about marriage, you declare you’re a confirmed bachelor.”

“You’ve read about me?”

“Don’t read anything into it. The rental agent for Huckleberry Lodge was excited about the idea of a celebrity living in the area. Lillian gave me copies of various articles and talked about you incessantly.”

“I’m not a celebrity.”

“You’re the closest thing to it in Mahalaton Lake.”

Hannah put detergent in the dishwasher and started it, uncomfortably aware of Jake watching her.

“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked finally.

“Nothing important. I’m on a forced hiatus except for the fluff book I’m doing on the Cascades.”

“Excuse me?” She turned and raised her eyebrows. “Fluff?”

“The Cascade Range has been done by half the nature photographers on the planet. It’s boring.”

Hannah’s temper began to simmer again. This was her home he was insulting.

“The Cascade Mountains are among the most beautiful places in the world,” she said crisply. “We have active volcanoes, varied animal life, gorgeous wildflowers...it’s a scenic wonderland.”

“But it’s also commonplace.” Jake made a dismissive gesture. “Nothing can compare to the sight of a polar bear in its natural habitat or the power of an Amur leopard climbing up a rock face with its prey.”

“Oh? Have you ever heard the cry of a loon across the water? It’s haunting. And how about the way dogwood blossoms seem to hang in midair, glowing in the low light of a forest? A place doesn’t have to be remote to be breathtaking.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s nice.”

Hannah could tell he wasn’t convinced, but she hadn’t expected to get through to him—he’d made up his mind and that was that. She took the bag of trash out to the cans behind the garage and headed back to find Jake sitting at the farmhouse table with a laptop computer in front of him.

Pressing her lips together, she continued putting the kitchen to rights. Removing the trash was a big improvement. It was even possible that the mess was more the result of him feeling lousy than of his truly being a slob; she’d find out over the next few months as his condition improved.

“By the way, where’s your son?” Jake asked after a few minutes.

“With my parents. They went down to Portland for the day and I didn’t think you wanted him here.”

* * *

SHE’D SENT DANNY to spend the day with her parents?

A twinge of guilt went through Jake. He wasn’t a kid person, but he usually got along okay with them. It was just that first day he’d instantly envisioned having Danny underfoot all the time and hadn’t wanted to encourage that. On the other hand, he hadn’t expected to be so bored.

“You can bring him next time,” he offered, surprising himself. “I don’t mind.”

“Can I get that in writing?” Hannah asked drily.

He grinned. Hannah Nolan wasn’t what he’d expected as a landlady, but that was a good thing. He didn’t need a comfortable motherly type, fussing over him and treating him like an invalid. Hannah would be more likely to kick him in the ass than fuss.

“Whatever you like. I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer, and we’ll do it right. If I had to guess, that guy who visited last week is a member of the bar. Conservative suit, no sense of humor, luxury car...what else could he be?”

She pressed her lips together and began wiping the sandstone countertops. Jake hadn’t intended to let the place get so messy, but it was easy to let things go when just getting from one side of the house to the other was a pain. Literally . Yet even as the thought formed, he grimaced. He didn’t like excuses; they stank worse than week-old fish.

“So is the guy you’re dating the sensitive, vulnerable man you’re looking for?” he asked.

“Brendan is a friend. And not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t say I was looking for sensitive or vulnerable.”

“My mistake.”

Hannah tidied the sunroom before returning to the living room. He followed, to her obvious displeasure.

“I thought you were doing something on your computer.”

“I’ve never had a housekeeper before. I should see how you do things.”

She returned another stack of books to the bookcases by the fireplace. “I’m not your housekeeper. Our agreement specifies light cleaning twice a week, not to exceed two hours. You reminded me about the ‘light’ part when you arrived.”

“Sure. But don’t you think it’s mostly a question of semantics?”

“You don’t want to know what I think,” Hannah muttered.

Jake tried not to smile. It wasn’t nice of him to ruffle her feathers, but they were awfully fun to ruffle. He’d already stuck his foot into his mouth to the point she’d probably boot him out if she could get away with it. At least his lease gave him some protection.

Taking a dust mop from a closet, Hannah ran it over the hardwood floor and then dusted the flat surfaces. A citrus scent filled the air and he sniffed.

“What’s that?”

“Lemon oil. It’s good for the wood, but if you don’t like it, I’ll try to find something else.”

“It’s fine. Beats the smell of seal fat.”

“Seal fat?” Hannah shuddered. “Where is that used on floors?”

“I’m not sure about floors, but the Inupiat have uses for it, including burning it in lamps. The village where I stayed this spring is quite traditional, and still consumes seal and caribou meat as its major food sources.”

“I’m afraid seal is too exotic for me.”

“It is for most people.” He wrinkled his nose. “And to be honest, I prefer caribou. But seal isn’t bad, and I could name several other more unappetizing dishes I’ve eaten. I won’t go into the details.”

The corner of Hannah’s mouth twitched.

“On the other hand,” he said reflectively, “when you’re in an amazing place like Nepal or the Amazon basin, who cares what you’re eating?”

“Actually, a lot of people do.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“You obviously don’t know what you’re missing about the Cascade Mountain Range, either,” she returned promptly.

So that was still bothering her. Diplomacy wasn’t one of his strengths, but he was usually more tactful.