Part-Time Wife (14 page)

Jill didn't know what to say. It was all too much to take in. Was it possible that someone could behave that horribly? She remembered what Aaron had done to her and she knew it was.

"It took me years to figure out the truth," he said, rising to his feet and crossing to the small wet bar in the far corner. "Maybe I didn't want to know what was going on. The minute I admitted it to myself, I would have had to have thrown her out. I worried about the boys and what that would do to them. I wanted so much more for them."

He uncapped a bottle of Scotch and poured about an inch into his glass. "You want some?" he asked.

"No thanks."

He leaned against the bar and stared at the empty fireplace. "In the end, she left on her own. I didn't even have the balls to throw her out. Once she was gone, she never bothered with her children. She saw them occasionally, but it was just for a few minutes at a time." He took a drink of the Scotch. "I didn't know what was right. Should I have refused to let them see her at all? Were the short visits better than nothing? Did it all confuse them?" He shrugged. "I guess I'll never know."

Dark hair fell across his forehead. She wanted to go to him and brush it away. She wanted to hold him until the pain faded and he could forget. How could Krystal have behaved like that? Didn't she know how lucky she was to have Craig? If Jill had met a man like him she would have—

She slammed the door hard on that train of thought. It was dangerous and unproductive. Krystal or no Krystal, Craig was off-limits. Jill wasn't going to get involved. This was a part-time situation.

Craig downed the last of his drink and set the glass on the bar. He swore.

"Are you more angry with her or at yourself?" she asked.

He looked at her. "Both. I hate her for what she was, and I hate myself for being such a wimp. I should have thrown her out of our lives years ago. Except then—" He shook his head. "Hell. Relationships. Do any of them work out?"

She didn't have an answer for that. She wanted them to. She believed in love – for others, if not for herself. "Some people have happy marriages," she said at last.

"Yeah. My brother Travis and his wife. And Kyle has
Sandy
.
Austin
's happy with Rebecca and if he can do it…" He walked over to the sofa and sat down. He rested his elbows on his knees and laced his hands together. "I used to think it was a family curse, but now I think it might just be me."

"Do you date much?"

He looked at her and tried to smile. The corners of his mouth tilted up, but the smile never reached his eyes. He was a beautiful, wounded male. Her heart went out to him. She wanted to touch him … heal him. Instead, she kept herself firmly in her seat.

"I don't have a lot of time. Between the boys and work." He shrugged. "Besides, I don't want to introduce them to someone until I know there's a chance that the relationship might work out. I think it would confuse them more. Sometimes it's easier to just stay home. Do you?"

"Date?" Her laugh was genuine. "No. I'm not really the dating type. And since leaving
San Clemente
, I haven't run into a lot of single men."

"Why do people get married?" he asked.

"Because they're in love."

"Do you believe in love?"

"Of course. Don't you?"

He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not so sure anymore. Nothing's for sure."

"There are no guarantees, if that's what you mean, but that's not an excuse to stop trying. Eventually, there's someone out there who believes the same way and wants the same things."

"Is that love?"

"It's a part of it."

"Did you love Aaron?"

"I—" She hesitated. "I thought I did. Looking back I see that I just wanted to belong to someone, to be a part of a family. I think maybe I took the easy way out. I should have asked questions, but I didn't want to know the truth."

"Like me," he said softly.

"Yes."

The single word hung in the air and she wondered what else she'd just agreed to. Her gaze riveted on the open V of his shirt and the few dark hairs she saw. Her fingers curled toward her palms as she thought about touching him there. What would it be like?

A flush climbed her cheeks, and she looked away. The clock came into view. "Oh, it's nearly eleven," she said, shocked at how quickly the time had gone by.

Craig stood up. "I've got to be in early tomorrow. I think we're getting close on this case. Mrs. Hart is wearing a wire. A car seems to be following her, but so far no one's made a move."

"I hope it works out," she said. Before she could stand on her own, he offered his hand. She rested her fingers on his and let him pull her to her feet.

Heat radiated from him. She wanted to warm herself against him until the ice around her heart thawed. She wanted to be held in his strong arms until her strength returned.

He released her hand and smiled at her. "I always forget you're so short."

"I am not. I'm perfectly proportioned."

His smile faded. The heat moved from his body to his eyes, where she saw
and
felt the flames.

"I couldn't agree more," he said and reached for her.

She went into his embrace because the act of refusing required more strength than she possessed. His large hands spanned her back, drawing her next to him. Her fingers brushed his chest. She felt the solid muscles ripple beneath her touch.

He loomed above her, tall, powerful, masculine. Her lips trembled slightly as she anticipated what his kiss was going to feel like.

But instead of kissing her, he chuckled. "This will never work," he said.

She stiffened, prepared to pull away. "I'm sure it wasn't my idea."

Rather than releasing her, he tugged her along until he reached the end of the sofa. There he sat on the arm and spread his legs. He settled her against the apex of his thighs. They were nearly at eye level.

"Much better," he said, then covered her mouth with his.

She didn't have time to resist or think or relax or question him about anything. One moment she was wondering if she'd been insulted, the next she was being consumed by fire.

The gentle brush of his lips belied the inherent strength of his passion. She could feel it vibrating through his skin, she could smell it in the scent of his body. Inside, her heart pounded frantically. Her blood rushed, making her ears ring and her hands tremble.

He held her at her waist, his fingers brushing near hers pine, his thumbs resting on her belly. Their thighs touched but not intimately. She wasn't flush against his crotch, although the thought of being there made her woman's place flare with heat.

Her hands clung to his shoulders, holding on as if she was in danger of being swept away. Just from an innocent kiss.

That's all it was. Firm lips exploring hers. He murmured her name, then kissed her again, making no effort to deepen the caress. From top to bottom, corner
        
to corner, he discovered her lips. Then, without warning, he stroked her with his tongue.

It was as if she'd been doused by a bucket of liquid desire. From the top of her head, down to her curling toes, need swept across her skin. Her breasts swelled until her bra became an uncomfortable confinement. Her nipples hardened, then ached. Her hips arched forward, finding nothing, and her panties dampened with a sudden rush of moisture as her body prepared itself for his wondrous assault.

She parted instantly for him, admitting him into her mouth. He touched her tongue delicately with his, as if asking permission to continue. Overwhelmed by unexpected need, she clamped her lips around him and sucked.

The results were instantaneous. The hands at her waist dropped to her behind and cupped the curves, hauling her hard against him. He shifted until she was flush against him, her hot, damp need resting against the hard ridge of his arousal.

Her breasts flattened against his chest. He tilted his head and stroked his tongue against hers. She clung to him, first holding on to his shoulders, then sliding her hands down his back. Sinewy muscles rippled as if her touch could bring this large man to his knees. She arched against him, wanting it to be true, wanting more.

In response, he slipped one hand between them. His long fingers brushed against her belly, then lower, teasing her through the layers of panties and jeans. His thumb found her point of desire and he pressed there, making her whimper.

He raised his head slightly and kissed her jaw, then lower, down her neck to the collar of her shirt.

"You're incredible," he murmured against her skin. "I want to take you right here."

His words thrilled her. The hoarseness of his voice and the way his hands shook left her weak with desire.

She wanted to make love more than she'd wanted anything, but… "Craig?"

"Yeah, I know." He moved his hands back to her waist, then set her away from him. Fire still burned in his eyes, but it had been banked.

His gaze met hers. "I'm not going to apologize because I'm not sorry that happened." His smile was sheepish. "I just want you to know I don't go around seducing the boys' nannies. You're the first woman—" He cleared his throat. "No one's made me feel like this since my divorce."

"Me, either," she said, and was shocked her voice was still so breathless. Every part of her hummed with desire. She wanted him more than she wanted to be sensible. Thank goodness one of them was thinking straight.

He shifted on the sofa arm and grimaced. "You didn't sign on for this. I guess I'm saying—"

She touched her fingers to his mouth. "I know what you're saying."

Actually she didn't, but she didn't want to hear any more. If he said that this was a mistake and would never be repeated, she would be crushed. If he said it was the start of something else, she would be terrified. Better to be confused.

He bent forward and kissed her forehead. "Thanks for understanding, Jill."

Understanding what? But she didn't ask. She just stood there in the family room, long after he'd disappeared upstairs. She listened to her blood race and felt the aching need in her body. Just a couple more weeks, she told herself. Then she could walk away without looking back.

* * *

Craig was back in uniform the next morning. He joined the boys for breakfast. That was unusual, but Jill tried not to let it get to her. She ignored the way the black shirt emphasized his strength and the firm line of his freshly shaved jaw. She didn't acknowledge the secret half smile he gave her as he said, "Good morning."

"Hey, Dad," C.J. said, and handed over a box of cereal.

The boys seemed to have recovered from yesterday's upset. Except Ben. When Jill went to put a load of laundry in the washer, he followed her.

She measured in the detergent, then tossed in the whites. Socks and underwear quickly filled the machine. She set it, but didn't pull out the knob to start the cycle.

"What's wrong?" she asked her back to the boy. She thought it would be easier for both of them to speak without actually looking at each other.

"Yesterday—"

"You've already apologized. Your dad told me about your mom. It's okay."

"I know. I just—" He moved closer. "I didn't want to eat that candy. I don't know why I did. I thought I was mad at you, and I wanted to hurt you."

She turned toward him. "Ben, that only hurts you."

He nodded, obviously miserable.

She held out her arms. He slammed against her, nearly knocking her off her feet. She leaned against the washer and absorbed his misery.

"It was just a mistake," she said as she smoothed his hair. "You'll do better today."

"But we didn't go for a walk."

"I didn't know if you'd want to."

He raised his head. Tears swam in his eyes. "I did."

"We'll go tomorrow. I promise."

He swiped at his face with the back of his hand. "Okay."

"Let's go get some breakfast."

He walked with her to the table. Craig glanced at her, but she smiled to tell him everything was fine.

"I thought I'd take you boys to school today."

"Cool," Danny said. "Dibs on front."

"It's my turn," C.J. said. Danny stuck out his lower lip but didn't argue. Jill started making Ben's lunch.

The conversation flowed behind her. She liked mornings with the boys. As long as they weren't fighting, they were great fun to be with. Craig's voice traveled across the kitchen and set her nerves to quivering. She worked quickly so she didn't have to think about what had happened – and not happened – between them last night.

"Jill, are you leaving soon?" Danny asked.

She looked at the boy. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday Ben said you were gonna be going. Are you leaving us?"

All three boys stared accusingly at her. "When I started, I told you I was just staying until spring break."

"But that was before," Ben said. "You can't go."

"Jill has her own life to think of," Craig said. "Leave her alone. Which reminds me. I've got to start interviewing nannies."