His Wife for One Night (15 page)

It had seemed like so much, a mountain he had to climb every day, an ocean of paperwork and problems that only he, Jack McKibbon and no one else, could solve.

It had allowed him, he supposed, to hide. To run away from even trying to find happiness. To protect him from the disappointment of never actually getting it.

And looking down at the crown of Mia’s head, he knew, in a way he’d been hiding from her.

A tension awoke in his belly, an awareness of her body, the loose T-shirt that pulled across her breasts, revealing the rigid peak of her nipple. Her arms, tanned and strong, looked so sweet and tender poking out of the too-big sleeves.

His wife.

The celibacy he’d lived with and grown accustomed to wasn’t fitting so well right now. All he could do was sit here and think of Santa Barbara and the way her breasts had felt in his hands. The way her tongue had tasted in his mouth. How tight and hot and sweet she’d been.

He coughed and rearranged himself in his chair, crossing his legs.

You’re an ass,
he told himself.
The woman has a concussion and you’re sitting here with a boner! Get a grip.

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying,” she grumbled, moving her rook sideways.

He was barely paying attention to the game and he knew she’d win. She usually did. He liked chess, but Mia had a brain for it like he’d never seen. Oliver had been good, liked to brag about winning some junior championships in England. But he’d been a hack compared to Mia.

Thoughts of Oliver brought the grief and guilt back like a black curtain, shutting out his contentment.

“Hey, Jack,” Mia said, breaking him from his thoughts. Thank God. He moved his king two spots to his right, but it was such a weak move that Mia put the piece back.

“Castling? That was bad,” she said. “Even for you. Try again.”

He concentrated, finally seeing her bishop for the threat it was, and moved his knight to counter.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” he said.

“Were you really…”

He glanced up at her, noticing the fire-engine–red blush on her neck and face and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. This ought to be good.

“Was I really, what?”

“Celibate,” she blurted. “All these years?”

He took a deep breath. “Like a monk.”

“But you never tried…anything with me. I mean, you said on that roof that you’d been thinking of me like that, so I know it wasn’t just the dress or the wine.”

“It wasn’t the dress or the wine,” he agreed softly, the game totally forgotten. “I’d been thinking about you like that since you were fifteen.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

“I felt like a pervert, not just because you were so young, but because you were my friend. So I told myself that I would never do anything, not unless you started it.”

“Fifteen?” she asked and he nodded. “Wow.”

The years they’d wasted were enough to make a guy sick. Amazing. He was a scientist who’d somehow failed to observe his own wife.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said.

She nodded, looking so uncomfortable he was torn between hugging her and pressing her back against the mattress and showing her all the many ways he’d thought about her over the years.

“You weren’t a virgin that night—”

“Did you expect me to be?”

“No! No, I didn’t. But I never heard about any boyfriends or whatever—”

“Was I supposed to call you and tell you I got laid?”

He shook his head. This was stupid. “Never mind, it’s none of my business.”

“You’re right, it’s not.” She was so small curled up against a pile of white pillows. The bruising on the side of her face made her look impossibly tough and fragile at the same time. But that was Mia for him.

And being her husband gave him no right to her sexual history. Her secrets were her own. He looked back down at the chessboard and the mess of black and white pieces.

“Whose turn is it?”

“Bill Winters,” she said and he looked up, slack-jawed. “We got together the night after my high school graduation. I told myself when you left that night that you clearly didn’t feel anything and it was time to get on with my life.”

“By having sex with Bill Winters?” Strange that he was jealous over something that had happened twelve years ago.

“We dated for a while afterward. He was a nice guy and he liked me.”

“I was a nice guy and I liked you!”

Her eyes flashed in anger. “You didn’t let me in on that little secret, Jack. You kept it to yourself.”

He took a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…strange, I guess, to think of you with someone else.”

“You weren’t a virgin in Santa Barbara, either, Jack.”

“I felt like one,” he said. He picked up one of her captured pawns, rolling it between his fingers instead of reaching for her.

“Five years of celibacy will do that to a guy, I suppose,” she said, trying to make a joke of something that wasn’t funny.

“You did it to me, Mia. You. You made me feel…different. The sex felt different. Hell, the whole night felt different.”

She nodded, her head bent, and he stared at the curve of her cheek, telling himself that what he wanted to do was a mistake. In fact, the way he felt right now, the combustibility in the air, the only thing that wouldn’t be a mistake would be leaving.

But he wasn’t about to leave.

“I’m sorry we wasted so much time,” he whispered.

“Me, too, Jack,” she breathed.

He pushed the chess set out of the way and leaned down to her. He knew she was hurting and he wasn’t going to force his way into her bed, but he wasn’t leaving without touching her.

He needed this—the physical proof of their connection—and he was pretty damn sure she did, too.

His fingers touched her cheek, a small spark popping between them, and she smiled, awkwardly.

“Let me kiss you,” he said.

“Jack—”

“Just a kiss, Mia.”

She didn’t say anything, her whiskey eyes staring up at him, watching him as he inched forward and pressed his lips to hers. Her eyelids shut on a soft sigh and he melted into her, absorbed by the sweetness and spice of Mia.

He didn’t want to push, was unsure of how far her welcome extended, but when she opened her mouth against his, the tip of her tongue licking at his lips, he wanted to growl in triumph.

Instead, he let her in, let Mia all the way in. He opened himself up and hoped that she would find a home somewhere inside the mess of his life and heart.

Because he needed her. He always had, he’d just been too stupid to know it.

He pulled away from the sweet kiss, even though it was counterintuitive to everything he wanted to be doing.

“You’re hurt,” he said and after a moment she nodded. “Can you sleep?” he asked, and she laughed a little.

“Eventually.” She looked up at him. Her eyes radiant, her face so lovely it actually hurt. “Thanks,” she said. “For the game. It’s been a long time.”

“We’ll play again,” he said. “Tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “Tomorrow night my mom and Lucy will be here.”

“And we can’t play chess?”

She stared at him for a long time. “My mom and sister both know this marriage isn’t real, but it hasn’t stopped my mother from hoping—”

“I told you I would stay,” he said in a rush. “We could try to make this real.”

She shook her head, her eyes dry as a bone. “I’ve got no more hope to be lifted, Jack,” she said. “I can’t manage to care anymore. I’ve been left by you too many times to count.”

“I didn’t know,” he said in his defense.

“Would it have been so different if you had?” she asked.

He couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” she said quietly. “I’ve always known everything was second to your work, your…dream. And just because you no longer have that dream doesn’t mean I’m ready to believe I can take its place. I think you’re searching, Jack, and I’m in the right place at the right time.”

“It’s not like that.”

“It feels like it is, Jack. And that’s enough for me. When my family gets here, I’m going to tell them we’re getting a divorce and then…maybe we should just keep our distance.”

Keep our distance.

Funny how he’d managed to do that for years without even trying, and now it seemed impossible.

Don’t you dare feel bad,
she told herself.
Don’t you dare. That man hurt you more times than you can count and the second you decide to protect yourself for once, you feel bad?

Don’t be such a girl, Mia.

“I think I can manage.”

“You have your notebooks?” he asked, stepping away from the bed. He wore his old cowboy hat, the brown one with the black band. He said he’d found it in the barn this morning, surprised that it was still kicking around.

She’d just nodded, as if she hadn’t hidden it there almost the minute he’d left for college. Worn it when missing him had been so powerful she couldn’t stand herself.

Wearing the hat changed Jack McKibbon, mutated his mild-mannered scientist persona into something more primal and earthy. He looked sharp and focused.

Painfully hot.

“Chris is bringing them to me,” she said.

“Call my cell if you need anything,” he said. “I’m heading over to the Stones’.”

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Jeremiah had a question about the alfalfa irrigation system. Told him I’d take a look at it.”

“Look at you,” she said with a smile, and then hated herself for smiling. “You just can’t resist a water problem.”

“Well.” Jack’s smile sliced through the shadows under his hat. “Jeremiah’s less likely to bomb me, so I figured I’d do what I can.”

He walked out, leaving behind currents and eddies that teased and tugged at her, pulling and pushing her off balance. And she could only sit there, aching and battered, and wish he’d never come back to this ranch.

Chris knocked on her door a few minutes later.

“Come on in,” she said and the old cowboy took a tiny step into the room, looking highly uncomfortable to be there.

She grinned at her friend. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Christ, Mia,” he said, unable to look at her. “You’re in your pajamas.”

“Which happens to be an old flannel shirt. It’s not like I’m here naked.”

“Still,” he said, taking another step into the room. “It’s not right. Here.” He handed her the three notebooks she’d filled with calving information and notes.

“Thanks.” She took the notebooks and Chris high-tailed it to the door. “Wait.”

He groaned, but turned to face her. “How is Jack working out?” she asked.

Chris frowned. “Jack? Fine. He’s got the boys clearing the fire road so we can move the herd.”

That was surprising. “He’s not trying to boss you, is he?”

Chris’s smile was brief. “Well, he is the boss and frankly, so far, I agree with everything he’s wanted to do.” He shrugged. “It’s his ranch.”

“Yeah, which he hates.”

Chris sighed. “Can I please go?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving him out of the room. “Be free.”

Chris left and now it was just her and Jack’s laptop. She searched for the shortcut icon on the desktop and got sidetracked by a document entitled I Take Full Responsibility.

Without a second thought, or really without giving herself a chance to have a second thought, she clicked on the document.

I was aware of the problems the night of the university cocktail party in Santa Barbara and didn’t notify anyone due to my absorption in my personal problems. With my heartfelt apology I tender my resignation to the university.