First and Again (18 page)

She’d already told Rebecca there was no chance for a reconciliation with her father. How did she get her to believe it?

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning Bridget hurried through her chores in the bar and the motel, stripping the bedding in two of the motel rooms in record time. As soon as she finished, she slipped out the back door of the restaurant and into her waiting car.

When she arrived at Jack’s ranch, she was relieved to see that Dallas Green had already left for the day and Gladys hadn’t yet arrived. She parked her car around the side of the house where it couldn’t be seen from the main road, and then hurried into the house.

Jack answered her knock immediately, pulling her into the house without a word. He slammed shut the back door and pressed her against it, covering her mouth with a hungry, demanding kiss. She moaned and responded with a kiss as hungry as his. It had been a couple of weeks since they’d been together and her body ached for him.

Jack pulled at her jacket. “I need to feel you.”

She laughed as she unzipped her jacket and shrugged it off. “I’m working as fast as I can.”

“Not fast enough.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs and into his room. Once there, he closed the door and started pulling her sweater over her head. When he’d removed the sweater to reveal the bra underneath, he went suddenly still and then emitted a low whistle.

“Wow.”

She smiled. “You like?”

“What’s not to like?” He ran one finger under the strap of her red satin bra. “A beautiful woman wearing sexy underwear. I’m all for that.”

“And you’ve only seen half of the ensemble.”

“You mean there’s more?”

“Oh yeah.” She unfastened her jeans, enjoying the way he watched her every move. “I decided to give the white cotton granny panties the boot.”

He took a ragged breath. “Did you?”

“Mmm.” Pushing her jeans past her hips, she let them fall to the floor. She stood before him in only her bra and matching red satin panties. “What do you think? Good investment?”

“I don’t know,” he said reaching for her. “Seems like a waste to spend all that money on something I’m just going to rip off you.”

“Don’t you dare rip my new underwear!” She scooted around to the other side of the bed, laughing. “Let’s be civilized about this.”

“Civilized? Are you kidding?” He jumped across the bed, capturing her in his arms. “I’ve had a permanent hard-on since the last time we were together. If I don’t take you soon, I might do serious injury to myself.”

She wound her arms around his neck. “We can’t have that. You don’t need to be gentle with me, just my underwear.”

He grinned and gave her a kiss. “It’s a deal.”

He carefully unhooked her bra and slid it off her shoulders, laying it gently on the night table. Then he kissed his way down her chest, her breasts and across her stomach, dropping to his knees in front of her. Pulling down the scrap of red satin to reveal the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs, he leaned forward to place a kiss there. She clutched at his shoulders and moaned.

“Jack, oh God!”

He flicked his tongue inside and around her most sensitive spot, wrenching exquisite sensations from her. She pushed his head closer, wanting, needing him. The pressure began to build inside her until she suddenly exploded. Only Jack’s strong arms kept her from toppling over.

When the tremors stopped, he got quickly to his feet and stripped off his clothes. She collapsed onto the bed, her knees too weak to support her any longer. Jack reached for her hand.

“Not the bed, sweetheart. Not this time.”

She let him lead her across the room with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. But she trusted him completely. Whatever he had planned, she knew he would never hurt her.

He pushed her against a wall and kissed her, his tongue hot and wet as it plunged into her mouth. She loved the taste of him, a combination of coffee with sugar and mint toothpaste. His scent filled her head with a heady mixture of spicy aftershave and the cold outdoors. His penis pushed against her stomach, and suddenly nothing else mattered but that he was inside her, and quickly.

“Jack, please,” she whispered.

“I need to protect you, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

It took only a few seconds for him to sheath himself, but it seemed ages to Bridget. She sighed in relief when he returned to her. Placing his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her. With two fingers, she guided him inside. He filled her completely, pushing at all her boundaries. It felt almost as if he could break right through her. The thought was frightening and exhilarating. Instinct made her wrap her legs tightly around his waist.

He braced himself, pushing her against the wall. With each thrust, he seemed to go deeper inside her. She madly pushed back, their frenzied coupling building to a crescendo. A moment later he cried out his release. She followed him into the abyss, descending into a vortex of sensation where only he existed. She clung blindly to him as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her.

Finally the spasms ended and he carried her to the bed, laying her down and collapsing next to her. He flung one arm over his eyes.

“Next time you go to the city, buy some more of that underwear. Damn fine investment.”

She chuckled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. I’m looking to build my portfolio.”

He made a noise that sounded like something between a grunt and a laugh. “You keep building your portfolio like that and you’ll put me in an early grave. But I’d least I’d die with a smile on my face.”

“Always happy to oblige.”

She lay on her side and watched him. A moment later his breathing deepened and she knew he’d fallen asleep. She resisted the urge to touch his face, not wanting to wake him.

Making love with Jack was the most amazing thing she’d ever experienced. And the laughter they shared made their time together so special.

She was afraid that was where it ended for him: great sex and good laughs. But for her, being with Jack was more than just the physical. Her emotions became part of the equation the first time they made love.

Would their relationship ever move beyond the physical for Jack?

* * *

That evening Bridget worked the late shift in the bar. Rebecca had said little to her since the previous evening and she worried that she was reverting back into her shell of silence and anger. Despair gripped her heart. They’d come so far in the last few months. If Rebecca chose to cling to the belief that she and Ben would reconcile, Bridget wasn’t sure what she would do.

Several times during the evening she ran up the stairs to check on her. Her daughter answered her questions in monosyllables but offered little else. She locked up the bar shortly after midnight when the last patrons went home.

Mavis was sitting in the kitchen having a cup of tea when she entered their upstairs apartment.

“Hi,” Mavis said, stirring her tea. “How was your evening?”

“It was okay. Kind of quiet tonight.” She looked around the room. “Did Rebecca go to bed?”

“Yes,” Mavis said. “She went to her room a few minutes after I came home.”

She quietly opened her daughter’s bedroom door and peeked inside. Rebecca lay sprawled facedown on the bed, her blanket half on the bed and half off, as if she’d tossed restlessly before finally succumbing to sleep. Bridget covered her with the blanket and kissed her hair.

She left the room and softly closed the door behind her. Mavis set an extra cup on the table.

“It’s herbal. It’ll help you relax before you go to bed.”

She slid into the chair across from her mother and poured herself tea from the pot Mavis had placed on the table. She stirred in a teaspoon of sugar and stared into her cup. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

“Something wrong?”

“No more than usual. Just teenage girl trouble.” She didn’t want to get into the source of her daughter’s moodiness since that would mean talking about Jack. She wasn’t prepared to get into that subject with Mavis. Her mother however, seemed to read her mind.

“Rebecca seems to get along well with Jack,” Mavis said.

“Yes, he’s been very good to her. She loves the horses and she likes Leslie.”

“How is Leslie? I haven’t seen her for a while.”

“She’s fine. She’s a very sweet kid.”

Mavis held the mug to her lips and blew on her hot tea. “Jane says Jack rarely takes her anywhere. She’s either at home or at school. Occasionally he’ll take her to Jane’s house or to Celia and Gavin’s. She’s worried that Leslie is too sheltered.”

“I think she may be right. I’m not sure the school here in Paradise is meeting her needs.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

Bridget decided to trust her mother with her information. She told her of the research she’d done into Down syndrome. “I’ve been doing a little checking around and I found an excellent school in Bismarck that has great programs for kids with Down syndrome. I’ve called some of the parent references and they’ve been really happy with the progress their kids have made.”

Mavis silently sipped her tea. After a moment she put down her cup and delivered Bridget a level look.

“It sounds as if you’ve become very involved in Leslie’s and Jack’s lives. Just how involved are you?”

She turned her face away, angry with herself for saying too much. “Is this where you tell me to stay away from Jack, that he’s not ready for a permanent relationship? And if you’re planning to remind me that I have a fifteen-year-old daughter to consider, believe me, I haven’t forgotten.”

She got to her feet and took her half-full cup of tea to the sink and dumped it. She turned to Mavis. “Good night, Mother.”

“For heaven’s sake, Bridget. You’re behaving worse than Rebecca. I’m not so stupid that I don’t know you and Jack are sleeping together. You’re a grown woman and if you make a mistake, that’s your business.”

“Thank you.” Her face flamed. Mavis was the last person she wanted to know about her affair with Jack.

“But Rebecca is my granddaughter and that makes her my business. She needs a stable family so she can feel secure.”

“I’m well aware of that. Believe it or not, giving my daughter a stable life is high on my list of priorities.”

“I see.” Mavis poured herself more tea. “Does that mean you and Jack are getting married?”

She looked at her mother in surprise. “Married? No, of course not. Neither of us is talking about marriage.”

“If you’re not thinking about marriage, then where is this relationship going?”

Mavis’s comment hit too close to her own thoughts. “Like you said, I’m a grown woman and I’ll make my own mistakes. Good night, Mother.”

“Bridget, sit down.” She softened her voice. “Please.”

Bridget sighed and took her seat once more. Living under her mother’s roof again made her feel like the recalcitrant, moody girl she’d been at sixteen. Both of them were slipping back into old roles and she hated it.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I wasn’t acting very mature just now, but you have to understand something. I’m an adult. I’ve been an adult for a long time and I’ve been running my life for a long time. I’ve had some failures, most notably my marriage, but I’ve had many successes along the way too. You have to respect that.”

Mavis reached across the table and grasped her hand. “I do respect that and I respect you. I just don’t want either you or Rebecca to get hurt.”

“I appreciate that, Mom.” She extricated her hand. “But I can work this out myself.”

She got up and went to her room, sagging against the door in relief after she closed it. Why couldn’t she have an open and honest relationship with her mother? Were memories of her father still standing in the way?

She wished she had the courage to talk to Mavis about him. The darkness of the past needed to be brought into the light.

But if the past was brought into the light, would she be disappointed by what she saw?

* * *

When Bridget walked into Jack’s house a few mornings later she was surprised to see Leslie in her pajamas, drawing pictures with wax crayons at the kitchen table. Jack sat next to her, drinking his coffee.

“Hi, Leslie. How come you’re not in school today?”

She just shrugged and said nothing. She kept her eyes averted, her attention solely on her drawing.

“Leslie’s not feeling well today,” Jack said.

Bridget put a hand on her forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you have a temperature. Where do you hurt, sweetie?”

She rubbed her tummy. “Here.” She still wouldn’t look at Bridget.

“Do you have some ginger ale, Jack? That always makes a stomachache feel better.”

He nodded. “Yes, I gave her some a little while ago.”

He got to his feet and grabbed a cup from the cupboard. “I just made coffee. Would you like some?”

“Sure.” She kissed the top of Leslie’s head, then took the coffee cup he offered her and followed him into the family room.

“I’m worried about Leslie,” he said quietly once they’d taken a seat on the sofa. “She wet her bed last night. She hasn’t done that in years.”

“Kids have accidents once in a while. It’s probably nothing to be worried about.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Maybe, but something’s not right with her. She seems lethargic lately, just not herself.”

“She doesn’t seem to have her usual energy,” Bridget said. “Have you taken her to see a doctor? Maybe she’s picked up some kind of bug.”

“I thought of that. I’m taking her to see her doctor in the city this afternoon.”

“Good idea.”

He reached for her hand. “I guess our plans for the morning will have to be put on hold. I’m very disappointed.”

“Me too,” she said with a smile. “I’ve become very fond of our little morning rendezvous.”

“They’re the best part of my day.” He pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her neck. “Maybe you can come back after Leslie goes to bed tonight.”

“I can’t tonight. Tina and I are catering the school board supper.”

He groaned and buried his head in her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, a feeling of intense tenderness washing over her.

“I should go,” she said. “I left in kind of a hurry this morning. I didn’t finish some of my chores.”