Whatever It Takes (22 page)

“And?”

She looked up. “I didn’t want to leave. The thought of not having you there every day hurt too much. I can’t let go again, Jack. I can’t bear the thought of having to tell Allie we’re leaving again. She’s been so happy being at home.”

“Can you forgive me for being a fool?” His fingers trembled as he stroked his hand down the side of her face, relishing the softness of her skin.

She pressed closer, slid her hands up his back, and laid her head against his chest. “If you can forgive me for not having faith in you. It takes two to make this work. It takes faith and trust, and I wasn’t giving you any of that. I was so afraid, but how can I expect you to give me all of you and hold back in return? I wasn’t being fair to you. I was lost in my own selfishness.”

He closed his arm around her, held her as tight as he dared as emotion rose up around him. She was here, and he was . . . in awe. He didn’t know if he had the words, but he had to try. It was a strange place to be, like discovering uncharted territory; yet, at the same time, the most natural place in the world. Over the last couple of weeks, he’d come to relish the new intimacy between them, and he needed her to know how much.

“It’s not selfish, sweetheart. You were right. But I’m done. I’m done being that man, and I’m not letting you go again.” He ducked his head, buried his face in the fall of her hair, and lowered his voice, murmuring against her skin. “Because without you, sweetheart, I’m nothing.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Ever again.” She pulled back and turned her head, finding his mouth. Her kiss was everything all wrapped up in one—hungry, lingering, tender—and she trembled every bit as much as he did. “We’ll figure everything out, Jack. Together. The way it should be.”

He’d died, he was sure of it. Died and gone to heaven. He was sure he’d lost her again, yet there she was, and he hadn’t a clue how to tell her what that meant. “I’m not perfect, sweetheart. I can guarantee I’m going to make mistakes. I’ve never had anything as open and honest and loving as what you and I have, and I’m afraid I don’t quite know what to do with it.”

She shook her head. “I don’t expect you to be perfect. Just be here with Allie and me.”

“Tell me you love me, Becca.” He pressed his nose to hers. “Tell me you’re coming home. For good. I need to hear you say the words.”

She pressed closer, her breasts pushing into his chest, and slid her hands up to cup his cheeks in the warmth of her palms. For a long moment, she held his gaze, and he lost himself there, in her beautiful blue-gray eyes.

“I love you, Jackson Kade.” Tears flooded her eyes, and she whispered the words on a trembling voice, barely audible in the miniscule space between them. “And I want to come home.”

“God, I love you.” He crushed her to him, heedless of the pain shooting through his ribs when her arms tightened around him in return. An overflow of emotion swept through him, a river of need and relief and gratitude. He held heaven in his arms and he wasn’t ever letting her go. “I love you so damn much. A year ago, when I signed those papers, I thought I’d never hear those words from you.”

“Me either.” She pulled back suddenly, frowning at him. “What happened with your client? Was he angry?”

Jackson laughed. “I haven’t a clue. I told him if he wanted me he’d have to wait until Monday, because if I didn’t put my family first right now, my marriage might well and truly be over. Then I left. Last I saw of the man, he was staring at me like I’d lost my ever-lovin’ mind. I have absolutely no idea if he’ll still
be
a client come Monday morning.”

She drew her brows together, sorrow rising in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I never meant to put your company at risk.”

Jackson shook his head. “You didn’t, sweetheart. I made a decision on a whim. All that mattered right then was coming to find you.” He leaned down, nipping at her bottom lip. “Right now, I don’t care. I’ll deal with the fallout when Monday comes. Our weekend isn’t over yet, and I have some making up to do. I have an idea. I think I know how to make up for the last few hours.”

She playfully narrowed her eyes. “What do you have planned?”

“You’ll see.” He waggled his brows and kissed her again. “I’m going upstairs. Give me ten minutes to get ready, then come up after me.”

***

Becca paced the living room, watching the clock above the sofa. She’d sat in this room for hours, crying, heartbroken at the thought at having to leave again. Sitting there, she’d expected the choice to be some sort of epiphany, but it hadn’t. The decision had come quietly, more the gradual acceptance of the truth than a bold neon sign. She recalled Kyle telling her that once. That the realization that he’d fallen in love with Ceci had hit him the same way. Softly. An acknowledgment of something he already knew, and Becca had realized the same thing. That she already knew what she wanted.

Jackson. Nothing else had mattered. So she’d waited. When the telltale sounds of the limo pulling into the driveway announced his arrival, the tears had started again. Grateful. Terrified. She hadn’t been certain what he’d say, but the panic written on his face had started the waterworks again. Listening to his story, her decision had only cemented itself. Because he was trying. He’d stood in front of her with his heart in his hands, laying it all at her feet.

When the ten minutes were finally up, she followed Jackson’s instructions and headed upstairs. She came to a stop in the doorway, heart caught in her throat. The sight of the bedroom took her breath away. Candles covered every available flat surface. Flickering golden light cast a soft, intimate glow around the room. White rose petals from the flowers he’d given her the day before lay scattered over the bed. Having so many bouquets at the office, she’d given a few away and brought several home. He’d covered the bed with an old patchwork quilt Becca hadn’t seen since she left a year ago.

The sound of running water told her where Jackson had gotten to, hinting at what he’d dreamed up. A delicious little shiver shot down her spine. He might not be perfect, but he could be very romantic when he wanted to be. The sight of the room made her melt.

“Jack?” She called out to him as she moved around the end of the bed.

The water shut off and Jackson appeared in the bathroom doorway. He stood in nothing but his slacks, his chest and shoulders deliciously bare. How he’d gotten himself out of his sweater alone, she wasn’t sure, but the sight caught her. He really was beautifully made.

“You did all this in ten minutes?” She scanned the room again and shook her head, awed.

He shrugged. “It was all I could come up with on short notice.”

“It’s beautiful.” She fingered the edge of the quilt. Handmade, patches of various materials pieced together, the blanket had been a wedding gift from Ceci and her grandmother. For good luck and a happy marriage, her grandmother had said. “I thought for sure you’d gotten rid of this.”

That he hadn’t nudged another something in her soul.

He crossed the room and stopped behind her, slid his arm around her waist, and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. Ironically, I kept it for the same reason I took it off the bed. This quilt reminds me too much of you, of us.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She turned in his arms and pressed along his length.

“I love you, Jack.” She whispered the words again, overcome by the emotion rifling through her. She couldn’t believe how close she’d come to losing him, to walking away. By some miracle, they’d found their way back to each other, and she wasn’t ever letting go again.

His mouth curled into a gentle smile. The tenderness in his eyes pulled her in and rendered her defenseless.

“I love you, too. More than I have words to say. Home isn’t a place for me, Becca. It’s you and Allie. You’re home for me. I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how grateful I am to have you both. In every way I can think of.” He leaned down, mischief in his eyes, his voice husky and suggestive as he whispered against her mouth. “You and I are going to start with a bath.”

Her stomach dipped and swayed. “A bath?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He nipped at her bottom lip, then took her hand and led her into the attached bathroom. “I seem to recall we have some unfinished business in this tub. When we’re done, I’m going to lay you on this bed and worship every inch of you. Until sometime tomorrow morning.”

She followed, deliriously happy and amazed. The day she’d left him all those months ago seemed like another lifetime, another world. Back then, she never would have thought they’d end up here. Somehow, despite all the odds, they’d found their way back to each other. The amazing part was, they were stronger for it. Even on the day she married him, she hadn’t felt this close to him. She had no doubt that whatever the future held, they’d tackle it. Together.

“How are we going to tell Allie?”

Jackson stopped on the other side of the threshold and turned to her, tugging her against him, his fingers already attempting the buttons on her blouse.

“You worry too much. She’ll be fine. After all, she’s your daughter. Tough as nails.” After several unsuccessful attempts to undo the buttons, he frowned and let out a quiet growl. He bent and nipped at her bottom lip, murmuring against her mouth. “My sweater I could take off fine, but somehow, I can’t seem to manage buttons. I hate that I can’t undress you. Put me out of my misery, sweetheart. Take. This. Off.”

She smiled and made quick work of the buttons on her blouse. The last one undone, she held her breath and slid the shirt from her shoulders, letting the garment drop to the floor behind her. Then she waited for his reaction. When she’d left the cabin, she’d been so upset, she hadn’t taken off the lingerie. She’d merely gotten dressed, half numb with grief. Now she was grateful she’d left it on.

Catching sight of the lingerie, Jackson froze, surprise and hunger flaring in his eyes. The sheer fabric of her dark, clingy camisole left little to the imagination. It was tasteful but risqué.

His gaze slid over her but stopped at her nipples, straining against the fabric. Oh, she knew that’s what he stared at, for his thumb followed his gaze, swiping over one taut peak. “Damn.”

A shiver ran through her, and Becca closed her eyes, a pleased smile easing across her mouth. “Lila took me shopping last Wednesday. She insisted I needed something sexy.”

He tugged her against him and claimed her mouth, whispering against her lips. “Remind me to thank her next time we see her.”

Two steps through the front door, Becca stopped short. She closed her eyes, inhaling the delicious aroma of freshly baked garlic bread and bacon, with a spicy hint of cinnamon. Following the sound of little-girl giggles into the kitchen, she stopped in the entrance. Jackson and Allie stood at the island in the center. Their two blond heads were bent together, their conversation hushed. Allie had her hands over her mouth, grinning at Jackson like she had a secret.

Neither had noticed her yet.

Dishes of food lined the granite countertop. A ceramic serving bowl was filled with steaming pasta and a plate held sliced garlic bread.

“Smells good in here.”

Both heads snapped in her direction. At the sight of her, Allie giggled. A distinct giggle she knew well. The conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes as she darted a glance at her father had suspicion itching at the edges of Becca’s consciousness.

“Evening, sweetheart.” Jackson smiled and rounded the counter. Having lost the cast a week ago, he now had use of both arms, wrapping them tightly around her as he pulled her in for a kiss. His lips settled over hers, little more than a soft, lingering peck, but so warm and welcoming everything but the feel of him went momentarily forgotten.

This. During their separation, she’d missed
this
the most. His welcoming kiss when she came home from work. These days, he usually beat her home.

Allie giggled again. The sound said their daughter had caught her parents kissing, reminding Becca they weren’t alone. Jackson pulled back but didn’t release her, his eyes lit up. “Our daughter and I have a surprise for you.”

She couldn’t help but smile in return. “I have a surprise for you, too.”

“Me first.” Mischief glinted in his eyes. He released her and took her hand instead, tugging her behind him to the center island. There, he picked up a fork, twirled it in the pasta, and held the bite out to her. “I thought you could use a break tonight. Allie and I took care of dinner. Taste this and tell me what you think.”

As she accepted the bite, the flavors exploded on her tongue. Chicken carbonara. Firm but tender pasta, perfectly cooked chicken, topped with a rich, creamy sauce containing a hint of smoky, salty bacon. “This is wonderful. Where’d you pick this up at?”

Allie giggled again.

Jackson grinned so big it took over his entire face. “I didn’t.”

Becca looked from one to the other. Suspicion no longer itched at the edges of her consciousness . . . it smacked her upside the head.

“All right, what’s going on?” She narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger from one to the other. “You two look mighty guilty. What’s the joke?”

Jackson set down the fork and took her hands in his, stroking her fingers. “All those father-daughter dates Allie and I have been going out on?”

She nodded. Over the last eight weeks, father and daughter had gone out once a week, just the two of them, but they never told her where they went.

“I signed us up for a cooking class.” Jackson watched her with careful eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching with his effort to hold back a smile.

Allie bounded around the counter at her, her little face beaming with pride and joy. “Daddy’s learning how to cook, Mommy!”

As the knowledge slammed into her brain, Becca turned her head, took in the bowl of pasta, the garlic bread, the smells filling the entire house. Awe and surprise hit full force. She turned to look at the two of them, beaming at her.

“You . . .
made
this?” She stared at Jackson, waiting for him to deny it, sure her mouth had to be hanging open, but unable to hide her reaction. The man couldn’t cook to save his life.

Obviously pleased by her reaction, his smile finally spread. “Allie and I made dinner together.”

Allie threw herself against Becca’s side, wrapping her arms around both Becca and Jackson. “We made dessert, too!”

“Tell her what we made.” Jackson looked at Allie, pride in his eyes.

“Pudding!” Allie released them, jumping up and down beside them. “We made rice pudding!”

“I love rice pudding.” Warmth filled Becca’s chest, and her eyes flooded as the moment washed over her. She’d been officially home for eight weeks now. They’d been taking things slowly, for Allie’s sake. They’d only told her last week that they were trying to make their relationship work again. Becca hadn’t even officially moved back into their room yet. She still slept in the spare bedroom. But Allie had taken the news in stride. She’d squealed, much the same way she had when Jackson had told her she could keep Fred.

Jackson really had changed. He was home on time every night, and every day when she came home from the dojo to find him, she was grateful for the second chance they’d gotten. This time, however, the gratitude swelling in her chest nearly knocked her off her feet.

Jackson wrapped his arms around her, pulled her against his chest, and pressed his cheek to hers. “Tell me those are happy tears.”

“Very happy. This was a sweet surprise.” She hugged him tight in return, hesitated, then forced the words out past the lump in her throat. “It’s also ironic. I came home with a surprise for you, too. I went to see a doctor today.”

She’d gotten news she’d expected, but which had still left her stunned all the same. She couldn’t wait to tell him.

He pulled back, concern puckering his brow. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She bit her bottom lip and nodded, darting a glance back at Allie, who stood watching them with a smile on her face. Their daughter did a lot of smiling whenever she saw the two of them showing affection. Occasionally, in the middle of a tender moment, she’d run up and throw her arms around the both of them. Except Becca wanted to tell Jackson first. They could figure out how to tell Allie together later. “I kind of wanted to tell you in private.”

Seeming to understand, Jackson peered around Becca. “Sweet pea, why don’t you go finish setting the table for supper.”

“’Kay.” Allie nodded, picked up a stack of plates and silverware off the island, and moved toward the table in the breakfast nook.

When Allie was well out of earshot, Becca barely managed to contain her elation. “I’m pregnant.”

His face blanked, and for a long, aching minute, he simply stared at her. “You’re sure?”

She nodded. “I heard the heartbeat. Strong and fast. A hundred and fifty-six beats per minute.”

Jackson’s arms closed around her, crushing her to him. He lifted her off her feet and twirled her around in a circle before setting her down again.

A giggle escaped her. “I guess this means you’re happy?”

“More than happy. I didn’t think I could get a better gift than my girls coming home, but this . . . I feel so very blessed.” He kissed her gently and whispered against her mouth, only loud enough for her to hear, “Do you suppose we conceived at the cabin?”

She immediately followed the direction of his thoughts. “Wouldn’t it be an ironic twist of fate? Like starting all over again.”

“Mmm. Another chance to do this over.” He pressed his nose to hers. “Marry me, Becca. I know we said we’d wait and take things slow, but I don’t want to wait anymore to make you mine again. This time, I want you to know I’m marrying you because I can’t live without you.”

Love shined like the sun in his eyes, and tears pricked behind her eyelids. Her heart felt full to bursting.

“I’ll always be yours, Jack.” She pressed close and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. “The idea is beautiful. I love it.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners, illuminating from within. “Would that be a ‘yes’?”

“Yes.” She whispered the word and lifted onto her toes to kiss him. “I love you, Jackson. I always will.”