Jake's Bride (16 page)

Jake reached for her and crushed her against him.  "Stone?  You think any part of me is made of stone?  Let's see what you think after this."

His mouth covered hers as his arms tightened her against him.  The hardness she felt was hot and pulsing with life.  Not stone...but male and heat and desire.  His embrace and his kiss demanded she respond.  Should she meet his demand or would she regret it if she did?

Chapter Seven

Jake's lips opened on hers, his tongue broke the seam of her lips and thrust inside.  The strength of his passion melted doubts, the fervor of his desire engulfed her.  She'd waited so long for him to hold her in his arms.  Reveling in being where she most wanted to be, she curved her arms around his neck and laced her fingers in his hair.  It was longer than she'd ever seen it.  She loved its vitality, its thickness, the slide of it through her fingers.

His tongue stroked hers, dashed against the roof of her mouth as if he couldn't taste her fast enough.  Angling his head, his hands passed up and down her back.  She wanted him as much as he wanted her.  The fullness in his jeans tempted her, urging her to become bolder.  While she stroked his jaw with one hand, she rubbed her breasts against his chest.  His groan vibrated through her.

He broke their kiss, and she protested.  But he'd only stopped to edge his fingers under her sweater and yank it over her head.  His gaze went directly to her breasts.  Their rosy peaks showed through the lace cups.  Quicker than she could blink, he unhooked her bra and held one rough palm to each breast.  She loved the feel of his calluses on her skin.  On the sensitive skin of her breasts, the stimulation was almost more than she could stand.  She closed her eyes to absorb the wonder of his touch.  Suddenly, she felt the wet, rough texture of his tongue sliding against her nipple, and she moaned.  When he did it again, her knees buckled.  He held her as they slid down to the floor.

Palming her breasts, he kissed her hard, again and again and again.  Sara couldn't keep her world right side up.  But she was aroused enough to know she wanted his skin against hers, his body filling hers.  She reached for the buttons on his shirt, trying to concentrate on slipping one after the other out of their holes.  After she managed the last button, she slid her hand across his chest.

Jake laid her on the floor and unsnapped her jeans.  She reached for his.  "I want you, Jake.  It's been so long..."

Her voice penetrated the haze.  For the first time since he'd kissed her, he stilled and gazed into her eyes.  She saw anguish there and didn't know why.  "What's wrong?"

He swore viciously and looked away.  "This is wrong."

"We're married, Jake."

His voice was gravelly.  "Sara, the way things are between us...what happens if we have sex and regret it?"

She sat up, conscious of her nudity, but more concerned with what Jake was thinking.  "You seem sure that would happen."

He stared into her eyes.  "When I make love with you, Sara, I don't want to have doubts.  I don't want to wonder if you told me about our son so I could take care of you both.  I don't want to wonder if you're pretending something you don't feel."

He was as vulnerable as she was, maybe more so because he was so good at hiding it.  "And what about you, Jake?  How am I supposed to know what you feel if you don't tell me?"

"I'm telling you now."

"What do you feel?"

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't respond, that he'd button his shirt and walk away.  Instead he ran his hand across his forehead, then answered her.  "I want you, Sara.  Plain and simple.  My body and my mind remember what we shared.  But I won't be that blind again.  I need to be sure we're going to make it before I give you more than my body."

"I can't separate my mind from my body," she said softly.  "I loved you then and I love you now."

Anger creased his brow and vibrated in his words.  "If you'd loved me, you wouldn't have left.  My father left.  In her way, my mother left.  That's not love.  Maybe you'd better decide what love means to you.  Because to me it means sticking together no matter what."

"I promised I'd stay when I married you."

He shook his head.  "Promises can be broken.  That old adage is true that actions speak louder than words.  We haven't been together long enough for me to trust in your promises this time."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she also felt a glimmer of hope.  He'd been honest with her.  He'd unlocked his feelings and let her see his vulnerability.  Because of that, she believed they could have a good marriage.  She'd prove to him he could trust her or she'd die trying.

Avoiding his gaze, she reached for her bra.  Jake turned away and snapped his jeans.  The awkwardness between them couldn't get any worse.  She slipped her sweater on and ran her fingers through her hair.  Sensing Jake had closed himself off again and further discussion about their marriage wouldn't solve anything, she searched for something tangible to talk to him about, to keep the connection between them.

"Thanksgiving is coming up soon.  What would you like to do?"

Slowly, he buttoned his shirt.  "Did you have something in mind?"

"I'd like to ask Aunt El, of course.  Do you think Nathan and Gillian would like to join us?"

"Nathan is flying Gillian's mother in for the holidays."

"They could all come here," she suggested.

Jake studied her, as if she were a puzzle he couldn't quite put together.  "You sure you want to take on a dinner that size?"

"Thanksgiving is about family and extended families.  I  think we'd all enjoy it."

"Do you want me to ask Nathan and Gillian?"

"No, I'll do it.  And maybe next week we could go Christmas shopping for Christopher?"

"We did say we'd do that."

He wasn't pushing her away, even after sharing what he had.  That gave her so much hope her heart almost flipped over in her chest.  "I'm going to prove to you that you can trust me, Jake.  I'm going to prove I love you."

He met her eyes and cocked his head.

She felt more naked than she had a few minutes ago when her clothes had lain in disarray on the floor.

His voice was gentle as he said, "We'll have a large Thanksgiving dinner if that's what you want, and we'll go Christmas shopping together.  But you and I both know things won't change overnight."

She wasn't that naive.  But she was filled with more hope than even she thought was possible.  Christmas was a time for wishes to come true, and she'd always believed in Christmas magic.  Maybe she could show Jake it was time for him to believe, too.

#

As Jake walked by shelves of toys the day after Thanksgiving, he actually felt happy.  He'd hardly remembered the feeling of lightness, the wonder of laughter, the simple joy of smiling often.  Sara had made Thanksgiving Day a holiday to remember.  He was grateful to her for that and a lot more--giving him a chance to get to know his son, championing their relationship...taking care of him when he was sick.  It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of him.  He'd hated the feeling of powerlessness at the time, but...

In his mind's eye, he could see her sitting in the light of the fire by his bed.  He needed a way to thank her, and he might have found it.  Yesterday Eloise had reminded him about Sara's birthday on December nineteenth.  He and her aunt in a quiet moment had discussed how difficult the holidays would be for Sara this year without her mother.  That's when the idea had hit.  A surprise party for Sara.  Christopher would love it, too, though Jake knew better than to tell him about it before the day of the party.

Sara walked down the aisle of the toy store beside Jake.  Remote control cars lined these particular shelves.  Jake picked up the demonstrator model and set it on the floor.  He pushed a button and it ran over Sara's toe.

He grinned.  "Sorry."

Sara teased, "Do you want that for Christopher or yourself?"

He looked as sheepish as a five-year-old.  "Maybe we should get two.  Then we could race them."

His crooked smile melted her.  They were almost through the toy store and their cart was stocked full of books, games, a stuffed panda bear, a backhoe practically as big as Christopher, an electronic device that could help a child learn to read, a baseball mitt, and a variety of stocking stuffers.

"Maybe you should ask Santa for one."

Jake's gaze was hot on hers.  "I've got a few things on my list that are a cut above remote-control cars."

"A Ferrari?" she managed.

"How about an old fashioned Christmas with all the trimmings?"

"That would be my wish, too," she said softly.

The heat between them sizzled as Jake came toward her.  He stopped directly in front of her.  If he leaned forward, their bodies would touch.  "You made yesterday special.  I wanted to thank you."

Her light jacket seemed heavier, the temperature in the store higher.  "No thanks are necessary."

"You did most of the work.  Gillian's mother couldn't stop raving about your pumpkin pies."

"She was being polite."

"Yeah, so were me and Nathan when we almost ate a whole one ourselves."

Heat crawled up her cheeks.  Thanksgiving Day had gone well.  There had been laughter and hugs and wishes on the wishbone.  "I'm glad you enjoyed it.  Gillian's mom and Aunt El got along great.  They're going to have lunch together next week.  Did you notice how good Christopher was with Matthew?"

Jake's eyes narrowed and he leaned away.

"I just mean I think he misses being with other children.  I'd like to look around for a preschool a few hours a week if you don't mind."

Jake picked up the car at her feet and returned it to  the display.  "In Wasco, I guess you put him in the same day care center where you worked."

"It was an ideal situation.  I could be around him and work at the same time."

His brows hiked up.  "Ideal?"

"You know what I mean, Jake.  At least when I went to work, I didn't have to leave him with a stranger.  I took him with me, and I knew the women who were taking care of him."

"And you think he misses being with other kids?"  In a lower voice, almost to himself, he added, "Sometimes kids aren't good for each other."

She knew he was thinking of the gangs of kids who got into trouble.  "Christopher is three.  He needs other children to learn how to share, to learn how to make friends, to learn how to win and lose at games."

Jake's stance became more relaxed.  "You do always think about what's best for him, don't you?"

"I hope so."

Jake added one of the remote control cars to the basket.  "All right.  Tell me the truth.  Did I go overboard here?"

Sara put her finger thoughtfully to her chin and carefully sorted through the merchandise in their cart.  "I think you've made good choices.  If we can get out of the store without adding anything else, you did just fine."  The golden lights in Jake's eyes warmed Sara and encouraged her.  Thanksgiving and tonight had brought them closer together.

As Jake pushed the cart into the aisle, he said, "I forgot to tell you.  I found Harv's high school sweetheart."

"You did?  Where?"

"The real estate records led us to her.  She'd bought a cottage at Nags Head after her husband died.  No landline.  She has one of those untraceable buy-as-you-go phones.  Not much contact with anyone.  But Harv flew out before Thanksgiving.  He called this morning to tell me he was bringing her back with him."

"What do you think will happen?"

"That's anybody's guess.  They both might have changed a lot in all these years."

"Or maybe not so much."

Jake's sideways glance told her he was thinking about the two of them, not Harv and his sweetheart.  She and Jake hadn't changed, not in the ways that mattered.  Now all she had to do was convince him.

#

Sunday morning after breakfast, Sara carefully lifted an ornament from the carton and examined it.  The tiny wooden rocking horse barely covered her palm.

Jake turned from the tree where he'd attached strings of lights.  "That should do it."

"Can we put stuff on?" Christopher asked.

"Sure can."  Jake peeked over Sara's shoulder.  "That looks like an old one."

Jake's aftershave teased her, his long, tall body in back of her sent awareness of him through every fiber of her being.

"Most of them are.  Christopher and I had started our own collection, but these are Mom's."  She handed the rocking horse to her son.  "Hang it wherever you'd like."

"Whatever you're baking smells good," Jake commented, his breath fanning her ear.

"Cranberry bread," she managed.

He reached around her and took an ornament from the box.  When he hung it on the tree, she watched the play of muscles under his T-shirt.  Trying to concentrate on decorating for Christmas rather than Jake's attributes, she reached for the felt-wrapped item.  "Look what I found, Christopher."  She unfolded the green fabric.  "It's our Christmas angel."

"Lemme see."