Make Me Lose Control (17 page)

A big vase stuffed with some daisy-like things sat near his daughter’s elbow. It looked nice.

He watched Shay make sandwiches. She already knew that London liked mayo and he liked mustard and neither one of them wanted tomatoes on their turkey-and-Swiss. Cut-up carrots and celery sat in water in the fridge and she plucked some out to put on each plate.

Had she cut up the vegetables herself, too?

Of course she had. It was just another of the domestic skills she’d mastered. Motherly stuff. Wifely stuff.

Why did he keep thinking of that word?

Because she’d been doing all the cooking, that’s why. With the exception of the day her siblings came over, she’d put together every meal with little help from him except clearing and some cleanup. She probably wasn’t talking to him because she thought he was taking advantage of her.

Cleaning, cooking, taking care of his kid.

“Why don’t I take you two out to dinner tonight?” he said on impulse. “I saw there’s a Thai place—”

“You guys go,” London said, not looking up from her paper. “There’s a pizza in the freezer. I’d rather eat that and read my book.”

He glanced over at Shay. Her back was to him as she put some utensils in the dishwasher. “No need for Thai or frozen pizza, either. I have a casserole all ready to go.”

Of course she did.

She really was Ms. Capability, wasn’t she? He’d called her that before and every day she proved it even more. Experienced tutor. Handy at all household tasks. Fabulous cook. Able to have fantastic sex one night and pretend that it never happened the next morning.

Grr.

After lunch, Jace insisted that he and London do the dishes. He told Shay to relax on the deck. “Read a book,” he said. “Page through a magazine.”

He found her out there once the kitchen was put to rights. She was reclined on one of a pair of loungers under the shade of an umbrella. With sunglasses covering her eyes, he couldn’t be sure, but he thought she was asleep.

So he tried to be as quiet as possible when he took the second chair. The lake was a deep blue and the powerboats cutting across it were far enough away that their motors were merely a distant hum. A sailboat cruised by at the mouth of the cove, a peaceful sight.

Jace didn’t feel the least bit serene, however.

He could go inside, look over some plans he’d brought with him, or scrutinize the details of some pending proposals, but neither sounded interesting. Rolling his head, he studied Shay.

After a moment, her mouth moved. “Is there something the matter?”

Hell if he knew, though it seemed messed up that he had this odd need to keep her talking to him. About what?

His daughter, of course, the only point that Shay would allow they had in common, he was sure. “I, um, have been thinking over how to tell London about starting at the new school.”

Shay sighed. “You’re going to have to do it, Jace. The sooner, the better.”

“I know it.”

“You also know...” She halted, pushed up and swung around so that she was sitting, her feet flat on the deck. She shoved her glasses to the top of her head and met his gaze.

She was so pretty. So damn beautiful.

“Do me a favor.” Her arm stretched out and she placed her palm on his hand. “Reconsider.”

He covered her hand with his free one, he couldn’t help himself. “I can’t, Shay.”

She tried to slide away, but he firmed his hold. Her fingers felt so delicate in his, and right. It was so fucking wrong that it felt so fucking right.

“You mean you won’t.” Her expression turned from frustrated to sad.

He’d do anything in his power to take that unhappiness from her face, but he had no ability to become the kind of father and family man that Shay was thinking of. It wasn’t in him, by nature or by experience.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Then tell her tonight,” Shay said, and this time she escaped his grasp.

He should. He would. With Shay by his side, it didn’t have to be terrible. “At dinner. When the three of us are sitting down.”

She stood up. “Sorry, but I won’t be there. I have a date.”

* * *

“S
HAY
WENT
OUT
on a date?” London said. “Who with?”

“I didn’t ask.” Jace set a dinner plate filled with food in front of his daughter. “It was none of my business.”

“Maybe it was that guy she was smiling at on the boat that day.”

He took his own seat, poked at the layered chicken, cheese and tortilla casserole that smelled great. “Maybe.”

“Or some famous movie-star friend of Ryan’s. He knows everybody.” She scooped up a bite of the steaming mixture. “I could call Poppy and find out.”

Chewing on his own forkful, Jace decided the kid needed to get off the topic of Shay and her mystery date. It was going to spoil his appetite for the delicious dinner in front of them. As he searched for a new subject of conversation, his conscience reminded him he shouldn’t avoid the important subject of London’s future a moment longer.

“It appears you like Mexican food,” he observed instead, watching her dig in with enthusiasm.

She nodded. “I’ve only had it since I came to Blue Arrow. Our housekeeper, Opal, she made mostly meat loaf and mac ’n’ cheese. And something she called turkey tetrazzini that had chicken, not turkey.”

“Ah.”

London made a face. “It had peas in it.”

Jace mimicked the face. “I hate peas.”

“Peas suck.”

They looked at each other with new interest. Jace decided to try a compliment. “I like your hair.” He gestured with his fork. “And that shirt is a pretty shade of blue.”

“It’s teal,” she said, her head dropping so he couldn’t see her face any longer.

Had he embarrassed her? What else sucked was his inability to connect with his kid. “London—”

“I don’t like bananas,” she said, flicking him a glance.

He blinked. “Me, either. And mangoes make me itch.”

Her head came up and her eyes rounded. “They make me itch, too! I only found that out since I came here, too. I never had a mango when I lived in England. Opal was pretty much an apples-and-oranges kind of person.”

Jace hesitated. “Your mom...she didn’t introduce you to other foods? Take you out to restaurants? Cook for you?”

Without all the excess makeup, he found London’s expressions easier to read. She looked uncomfortable now, her gaze sliding away from his.

“You can tell me the truth,” he said, putting down his fork. His interest in food was diminishing with every second his daughter appeared uneasy.

“She liked me to go shopping with her sometimes,” she said, addressing her plate. “But she wasn’t very good in the kitchen. And, you know, she traveled a lot.”

So had Jace, so he couldn’t even fault the woman for that. But hell, he’d assumed—which made a you-know-what of him—that Elsa had taken a more active role in raising their daughter. Sighing, he speared his hand through his hair and felt the dull throb of a headache start up between his eyes. “I didn’t do right by you,” he admitted out loud. “My father wasn’t much of one—or much of a human being for that matter—so I don’t know squat about being a dad. I didn’t think you weren’t missing out by not having me around—but I should have done more anyway.”

She was moving her food around her plate. “I told you it wasn’t bad, remember? Mom could be fun. She was always getting me those books.”

Those books. Jace pinched the bridge of his nose. Fuck. Those books.

“Yeah,” he said. “Still...I’m really sorry—and I know those words don’t change the past. As for the future, though...” Now was probably the time to segue into the whole going-away-to-school deal. “I promise to always do what I think is best for you.”

Her head jerked up, and she pinned him with chocolate-brown eyes. “
I
know what’s best for me. Don’t forget I’m fifteen.”

Fifteen. So many years he’d lost. So many years he could never make up for...even if he could figure out how to start doing so. “London—”

“Can I be excused?” she asked without waiting for his answer. She carried her plate to the sink and set it inside.

Jace considered calling her back, making her sit once more. Then earning her wrath by telling her that her life was going to change again. Shortly.

And he found he just couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not tonight.

She scampered out of the room. In the distance, he heard her bedroom door close. Jace put his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, telling himself now he could enjoy the quiet and the familiar sense of being alone. Still unsettled, however, he rose from the table and crossed to the window over the kitchen sink. Staring out it, the lake was a dark patch of serenity in the near distance. An owl—at least he assumed it was an owl—hooted, for whatever reasons owls hooted.

It should be peaceful. Strange, though, that tonight this loner felt he was more abandoned than at ease.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

S
HAY
LET
HERSELF
into Jace’s house and walked straight to the alarm control box to enter the code on the keypad. She switched off the porch and foyer lights, leaving the downstairs in nearly complete darkness, and headed for the stairs. As she crossed through the living room, Jace’s voice came from the shadows.

“Shay?”

She paused, then turned, able to just make him out, sprawled at one corner of the couch.

“How was your evening?” he asked, his low voice sending the nerve endings along her spine skittering.

She wasn’t about to tell him it was boring at best. “Wonderful.” Though he likely couldn’t see her smile due to the lack of light, she pasted one on anyway.

“You look beautiful.”

Her brows came together. Her little black dress and strappy heels surely were just smudges in the darkness. “Your carrot intake must be up if you can see much of me right now.”

“Hair in loose waves. Dress is black and sleeveless. Square neckline, poofy skirt, sash thing that you tied in a big bow at the front of your waist. You’re lucky you didn’t break an ankle in those high heels.”

Shay smoothed the “poofy” skirt. “All right, what’s your secret?”

“I have a thing for your legs. So I watched you out the window when you left, in hopes that you’d be wearing something just that revealing.”

“It’s not revealing!” Yes, the hem ended above the knee, but inches south of any overexposure.

“Well, I appreciate the wealth of bare skin anyway. Thank you.”

Did that require a “You’re welcome”? Should she be polite after he’d basically admitted to going voyeur on her? Not that she hadn’t done her share of sneaking looks at him. He’d been running shirtless again that morning and she’d only pretended to read behind her sunglasses once he returned. He’d strolled onto the deck where she was perusing the newspaper and she’d watched him with avid eyes as he downed a bottle of water in one go, his throat muscles working.

“How come he didn’t pick you up?” Jace asked.

“Let’s talk about your evening instead, shall we? How was it? Did you tell London—”

“That I’m packing her off to school then heading back to Qatar for months of work? No. But we did discuss our mutual aversion to peas.”

“Nobody else in your company can take over the management of the project there?”

He was silent so long, she figured he was thinking of something else besides her simple question. Then he began speaking again and confirmed it.

“We actually did connect, I think, just a little, until I got the fifteen-year-old version of ‘You’re not the boss of me’ and ‘I know what I’m doing with my life.’”

Shay winced and moved closer. “She was on her own a lot in London, I think.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that. It doesn’t make me happy in the least, but I don’t know what the hell to do about it. I can’t wind back the clock and make her five again.”

She sat in a chair adjacent to the couch, almost close enough to touch if she reached out an arm. “You could stick close, Jace. Be there for her now.”

“I don’t deserve her,” he muttered, then jolted forward to prop his elbows on his knees and scrub his face with his big hands. His head turned her way. “So, did he kiss you?”

“Chris?” Damn, she hadn’t meant to bring the other man into their conversation.

“It was him, then,” Jace said. “Did he kiss you?”

She wasn’t going to talk of kissing, not when that only made her crave Jace’s kisses, Jace’s touch. Remembering the sensation of his whiskers against the skin at her throat and the inside of her knees, she rubbed her suddenly damp palms against her dress.

“I think you should give him another chance,” Jace said.

Caught up in her own thoughts, she figured she must have missed something. “Who? Give who a chance?”

“Officer Upright. Officer All-Good. You look nice together.”

It hurt to hear him foisting her off on Chris. “You’re not the boss of me,” she said, keeping her voice light. “I know what I’m doing with my life.”

“I’m serious,” Jace said.

“You’re seriously trying to direct my romances?”

“We’re just having a conversation.”

She blew out a breath. “Look, he’s a great guy—”

Jace winced. “And has a really good personality? Admit it, Shay, that isn’t a bad thing. Not to you. Not
for
you. I can see you being happy with him.”

Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Would you like me to predict the kind of woman you’ll settle down with?”

“As if that’s going to happen,” Jace scoffed.

“I say it will,” Shay said airily. “In the not-so-distant future, you’ll be back in LA to check in with your headquarters and touch base with your daughter. One night you’ll stop in at some bar for a drink—”

“A seedy bar with darts and pool or a fancy bar with high-class call girls looking to pick up clients?”

Shay’s brows rose. “There are really bars with high-class call girls hanging around?”

He laughed.

“And how do you
know
they’re high-class call girls and not just some regular women wanting a drink out?”

“I’ve got a sixth sense. So, which is it?”

“It’s the bar at your hotel and there are no call girls in sight,” she said, her voice prim. “There’s a woman in a business suit at a small table and since there’s no other seats open in the place, you ask if you can take the one beside her.”

“And she’ll agree, just like that?”

“Believe me, Jace, she’ll agree, just like that.”

“Huh. Go on,” he said, gesturing.

“Like you, she travels a lot for business. Sales trips to sell, um...greeting cards.”

“What kind of greeting cards?”

“The funny ones that you give your girlfriends for their birthdays, all about purses, martinis and hot men. Also the ones with really cute animal photographs that you send to maiden aunts and elementary-age nephews.”

“Is she successful?”

“Yes, but she’s tired of airports and body scanners—she doesn’t look her best in black-and-white—and would like to find the right man so she can talk herself into finding a new job that doesn’t require a suitcase.”

“Okay. I’m sitting next to this woman. Then our eyes meet and she tells me it’s her birthday—”

“It’s not her birthday. But your eyes meet, and well...it’s history.” She was tiring of the game. She didn’t want to picture Jace with some cool blonde or sultry brunette.

“Okay...” He drew out the word. “I’m not sure I can take your word for it. Does she know how to cook? Does she mind cleaning? Most important, will she like someone else’s kid?”

Shay shook her head. “You don’t care about the cooking and cleaning. You’re perfectly capable of doing them yourself or trading off doing them with Greeting Card Woman. As for London...she can win anybody over.”

Shay went silent, fingering the swan bracelet on her left wrist while trying to ignore the ache of losing the girl’s presence in her life. “Jace, she’s special. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he said, his voice low. “And I see that you know it, too.”

Clearing her throat, Shay went for bright again. “Bowled over by love, you’ll rearrange your life to cease almost all the travel—except for jaunts you can do as a family—and find a lovely home by the beach to move into.”

“Will we keep this place as our lake getaway?” he asked. “Or perhaps I should find a way to do most of my work from home and decide to live in the mountains 24/7.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“That way we might run into you and your stalwart lake patrolman. I can see it now, little Shays and little All-Goods following behind you like ducklings.”

Her heart shrank at the idea of running into him and Greeting Card Wife. As silly as it sounded, since she’d conjured the woman herself, it was...unbearable to imagine looking up one day and seeing a smiling Jace saying hello to her like the one-time tutor that she’d been. Probably not even remembering they’d also once—twice—been lovers.

“I won’t be here,” she said, impulse driving her to the decision. She’d been considering it for months.

“What are you talking about?”

“It looks like I’m going away. For a while.” Maybe longer, who knew?

“Going away where?” Jace asked slowly.

“I have a college friend. She teaches English at an exclusive private school in France—Nice, actually. She’s been after me to join her.”

“Leave the mountains? Leave your siblings?”

“I’m sort of doing it for them.” She thought of the day of the fire, Dell Walker’s roughened voice shouting her name, the devastation the flames wreaked on the property, Dell’s subsequent death.
If only she hadn’t wandered off!

“The position comes with lodging and the money’s amazingly good in relative terms. I could send lots of it home to help rebuild the cabins.” While it wouldn’t make up for the loss of her siblings’ father, it would be something.

“You’d go away.” Jace sounded...puzzled? Bothered?

“Yes.” As long as she’d been considering this plan, it had made her sad to think of leaving, to not breathe in the smell of lake-scented air and sunlight on the pines every day. But now, now she thought it might be for the best. Blue Arrow Lake would never be the same for her once Jace and London Jennings left.

* * *

S
HAY
TURNED
ON
her pillow, only halfway into a restless sleep. Then she stilled, something warning her of a presence in the room.

Not one she was afraid of, however.

Turning again, she saw Jace approaching her bed.

“Is something wrong—”

“Shh,” he said, placing his finger over his lips. Then he lowered to the edge of the mattress. She sat up, too, feeling less vulnerable when he wasn’t looking down on her.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

He reached toward her, let his hand drop. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She frowned. “Do you need help warming some milk?”

Smiling a little, he shook his head. “And a warm shower didn’t work. Not a cold one, either.”

He’d hoped a cold shower might work.

She knew why, of course. It had come into the room with him, the powerful sexual magnetism that made her draw up her sheets to cover her breasts. She wore a nightshirt, something not the least bit sexy, but it was thin enough that he’d be able to detect her tight nipples poking against the fabric.

A shiver worked itself down her back and she bit her bottom lip, trying to think of what to say, what to do. Earlier in the night she’d made up Greeting Card Wife. She’d told him about her plans to go to Nice.

Both had kept her from dropping into a healthy sleep.

And now it seemed he was equally affected.

Still... “Your daughter is only a room away.”

“Snoring,” he said, his voice nearly soundless. “I checked. Not to mention we both already know I’m a lousy father.”

“I don’t like to think I’m a lousy tutor—”

“She won’t know anything about this. We’ll go to the Big Bed O’ Chains.”

How could he make her want to laugh at a time like this? And long for him. And yearn to be in his arms.

“I’m lonely tonight, Shay.”

They were magic words. She was lonely tonight, too. Sometimes she thought she’d been lonely her whole life, despite her siblings, her mother, her adopted father.

Maybe he saw all that on her face, because he reached toward her again, and this time his palm cupped her cheek. Without thinking, she nuzzled into it, breathing him in. He smelled so good, a masculine, clean, almost salty scent—which she giddily mused might be testosterone—that she wanted to chase all over his skin with her mouth.

She pressed a kiss to his rough calluses and heard him draw in a sharp breath. Then he shifted and gathered her close by using his strength to lift her out of the covers and into his lap. His mouth covered hers.

This was magic, too.

Pleasure seeped into her from the kiss. When he slid his tongue across her lips, she opened for him, let him explore inside with gentle forays. While he had showered, he hadn’t shaved, and the stubble surrounding his lips abraded her skin, a light scratching that she wished to feel in so many other places.

He was a mind reader, she thought as he made some sound and pressed his cheek to hers, then drew it over her jaw and down her neck. “I’m not supposed to want anybody like this,” he said, and she felt the words more than heard them.

“Then go away,” she suggested, knowing he wouldn’t.

Instead, his arms tightened on her and he rose, moving to carry her over the threshold like a bride in a gown printed with sleeping puppies and kittens. Her hands linked behind his neck even as she tried dredging up the will to refuse him.

They were in his room with the door locked when he let her down, the bottom half of her body sliding against his. Heat was gathering under the soft cotton knit of her nightwear and she clutched at the sides of his T-shirt to prevent herself from flinging off her own garment in wanton abandon.

Jace closed his fingers over her shoulders. The room was dimly lit by light streaming in from the attached bathroom. “Did he kiss you?” he asked again.

“It doesn’t matter.” She wasn’t trying to be coquettish. The truth was, she couldn’t remember. Nothing of the evening out had made an impression on her, not when her mind had been back at the house, on Jace, on her and Jace together.

“I want to know if he kissed you.” His golden eyes narrowed and she could see he was both serious and seriously turned on.

It thrilled her, that note of possessiveness in his voice. Was it bad of her? But she couldn’t help it. Maybe because she didn’t think anyone had ever wanted her with that kind of...of intense passion.

The idea was dizzying.

“Shay—”

She cut him off by lifting to her toes and grinding her mouth to his. One of his hands slid from her shoulder to the back of her head. He speared his fingers through her hair as he ate at her mouth, the kiss one of ownership...on both sides. Shay tightened her hold on him and pulled his tongue into her mouth, sucking on it until he broke away from her to drag in a rough, ragged breath.