SEALed With a Kiss: Even a Hero Needs Help Sometimes... (34 page)

With a calm demeanor she was far from feeling, Pickett scooted over and patted the seat next to her. "Did Tyler get to sleep okay?"

Jax sat down, the glider creaking under his weight, and slid an arm around Pickett. "He was out like a light in two-and-a-half readings." As always Pickett stiffened slightly, then allowed herself to sink against his chest. It was progress. At least he hadn't needed to insist she let him hold her. He'd been afraid he'd ruined everything this morning. While her family was there, with her typical generosity she'd calmly included him and Tyler in the circle of warmth she emanated, but during supper she'd seemed nervous and distracted.

He smoothed his hand over her bare shoulder, and fingered the tiny satin strap of the stretchy top she wore. "You changed clothes. Nice."

He rubbed his cheek against her soft curls, and drew her feminine scent deep into his lungs. After a moment Pickett nestled into him more fully and allowed her hand to rest on his thigh.

The heat of her palm seemed to sink deep into his leg, then travel straight to his groin. He set the glider in motion, so that he could feel her soft fingers ride the flex of his muscles.

This was good. A cricket near the porch chirped in counterpoint to the creak of the glider, and he idly noticed that the tide must be out, because the damp, fecund smell of the salt marsh was stronger.

"Jax?" Pickett sounded a little shy or uncertain. But maybe like him she was just unwinding.

"Hmm?"

"I'm really curious about the phone call from Lauren. I know it's none of my business—"

Jax stopped her by laying a finger over her lips, then lingered to trace the shape of her mouth. "I didn't mean that the way you took it."

Pickett raised her head to look at him in the glow of light coming from the hall. "
Oh?'

Pickett could pack more doubt into one syllable than some people could in a paragraph. Jax shifted so that he was wedged in the corner of the glider and rearranged Pickett's arms and legs so she lay against his chest.

"I meant it then, but I don't mean it now, okay? After talking to Lauren today I'm not sure how this business of sharing custody is going to work out."

"What did she want?"

"She's totally pissed because I didn't return to the beach house, but stayed here instead. She wants me to return Tyler to her immediately."

"But you're not going to?"

"I've got fourteen days and eighteen hours left of this leave. I don't intend to let her have Tyler one minute before I have to."

"So you're planning to stay here?"

"Sure."

He sounded so easy, no doubts that here he was and here he would stay. Hope that he meant what she wanted him to mean fluttered but she flattened it before it could take wing.

Oh, it was dangerously seductive, this fantasy that they could become the family she wanted, and every day he stayed, the fantasy would feel more real and become more dangerous. She couldn't kid herself any longer that she was happy their relationship would never mature. She'd fallen in love with Tyler almost immediately, and now she knew she'd fallen for Jax, too.

If only he was the man he seemed to be: considerate, dependable, tender with Tyler and with her, full of lightning-quick intelligence, and earthy humor.

Seeking comfort, she rubbed her cheek against the soft weave of his yellow golf shirt. She inhaled his comforting Jax smell, and let the breath out with a sigh.

He
was
all those things, but only part-time. Where was the consideration in leaving without notice? And what did dependability mean if she couldn't depend on him to be there when she needed him? So what if he had a lot of insight and humor if he wasn't there to talk things over and laugh with? He wasn't the man she wanted him to be.

The image of the mythical selkie popped into her mind again. The man holding her was the selkie in human form. But she must never forget that he
was
a selkie, and would soon become a seal again, drawn to a wild world where she could not live.

Jax felt the deep sigh that shuddered through the soft, sweet-smelling woman in his arms. She was soft, inside and out, but, by God, she had guts. He 'd never been so proud as when she 'd demanded her sisters start respecting her choices. She gave whole-heartedly, and he had a feeling that now her family would start valuing the love she gave them. Which reminded him of something he needed to say.

He squeezed her lightly. "Pickett, I want you to know how grateful I am for all you've done for Tyler and me." She squirmed as if she meant to interrupt. "No, don't dismiss what I'm saying. I know how generous you are, so you're probably thinking it's nothing special. But sometimes I feel like I drove into a magical kingdom, the day I pulled into your drive. No," he corrected himself, "it was before that. Everything started changing the moment you walked up to us on the beach. You're one heck of a lady."

It wasn't a declaration of undying love, but the husky wonder in his voice told Pickett how much he meant it. Apparently even selkies were susceptible to magic. She stroked the silky hair on his forearm, and with the tips of her fingers traced a raised vein. She took another deep breath, this time drinking in the knowledge that some moments are worth savoring for what they are, not what they will lead to. Her dream of a wonderful, secure marriage and family might never come about, but how many women ever got to make love to a selkie?

A buoyant sense of freedom exploded in her chest, scary and compelling and hot with life.

Being around Jax was changing her. She never would have dreamed she would look one of her sisters in the eye and tell her to stop criticizing. The power she had felt in that moment, though her knees had been shaking, still vibrated through her. Suddenly the daring plan she'd had earlier seemed like a good idea again. When magic was in the air
ordinary
didn't happen, but sometimes extraordinary things could.

"Thank you," she slid her fingers into the cool hair at the back of his head and touched his lips with hers, "and for whatever you think I've done—you're welcome."

The breeze kicked up a little, ruffling Pickett's skirt across Jax's thighs. He wished it could always be like this between them. The stiffness he'd caused by speaking without thinking this morning was finally gone.

He clasped his arms loosely around her while her nails traced lazy patterns down his neck. Confident that he would hold her, she leaned back against his encircling arms, a secret smile playing around her lips.

He had no idea what she was smiling about but he felt amazingly indulgent. "What is it?"

She looked deep into his eyes. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you." She bit her lip prettily, then swept her eyelids down, as demure as a nun. The dimple in the corner of her mouth peeked. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she was flirting with him.

She gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. "I don't have any underwear on."

Oh God. He almost swallowed his tongue. She
had been
flirting and now she looked shyly proud of herself. How could she look totally innocent and say things like that?

Surprise, sensual anticipation, and amusement in equal measures surged through him on a wave of tenderness. She was a darling.

"Come with me," she whispered, and got to her feet, tugging on his hand.

He resisted and used the tug to pull her back against him. "Where are we going?" he murmured against the bend in her neck.

She pulled away again. "Just follow me." She skipped quickly down the short flight of steps, and dashed around the side of the house. The breeze fluttered the filmy skirt, offering tantalizing glimpses of bare legs and feet in the pool of light cast by the kitchen window.

"Come on!"

He couldn't see the point of racing around the yard when they were both ready to get it on, but the devilish light in her piquant face promised fulfillment as well as tease. Anyway, wherever she wanted to be, he wanted to be. Oh man, he was letting her lead him around and loving it.

Quickly he followed her across the drive where she skirted the border of ancient azaleas, solid and six-feet high.

It was darker here away from the security lights, but the pale gleam of her skirt showed her to him as she ducked under the spreading branches of the huge live oak.

In the deeper-still darkness under the oak she was no more than a pale smudge, but as his eyes adjusted he could see her feeling around for something.

"Here it is," she called. "Can you see me?"

"I can see you," he almost growled, his voice laced with sensual threat. She was standing beside a swing hung with heavy ropes from a massive branch overhead.

"Good. Because I can't see you. Come over here. Oh!" He gripped her hips and pulled her to him.

She placed her hands over his cheeks and tugged his head down, eager, endearingly awkward, seeking his lips, his tongue.

Warm, soft hands pushed through his hair, tested the resilience of his shoulders, traveled down his back, then fumbled at his shorts button. A flick and the zipper hissed softly.

Never taking his mouth from hers, he used the moment to gather the skirts of her dress until he could slide his fingers against her moist, warm cleft. She was aroused and ready. His cock swelled hot and urgent. A man with a little imagination could do it anywhere. One-handed, he stripped the polo shirt over his head. The ground underfoot was soft with the loamy cushion left by one hundred years of decomposing leaves, and the shirt would protect Pickett's bare shoulders.