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Authors: Darlene Gardner

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BOOK: The Truth About Tara
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“You want to get out of here?” he asked.

She didn’t think about it. She just nodded.

He took a swallow of his beer, removed his wallet from his back pocket and slapped some money on the table.

A few people window-shopped along the street outside the pub and a noisy group of tourists was leaving a nearby restaurant, typical activity for a Monday night in summer. Since Jack had left his truck at the fitness club, she’d driven them from the beach to the Cape Charles business district. Her car was parked between two others under a street light.

Jack didn’t touch her as they crossed the road, yet she’d never been more aware of him. The tourists were laughing and talking in loud voices, yet she could hear Jack’s every breath and sensed the power of his lean, athletic body as he moved.

Her breaths were coming too fast and her palms growing damp. What exactly had she committed herself to inside the pub by admitting she preferred Jack to Mark Ames? Was Jack expecting her to come to his place or to invite him to hers?

Each step she took closer to the car, it grew harder to breathe. Last night after verifying she wasn’t Hayley, she’d all but decided to have a fling with Jack. Now she wasn’t sure she could go through with it. She’d always been conservative where sex was concerned. She liked to take her time getting to know a man before going to bed with him. She and Jack hadn’t even been on an official date.

“Everything okay?” His voice broke into her toughts. “You seem nervous.”

It seemed pointless to deny it. “I am.”

“You don’t need to be,” he said. They reached the driver’s
side of her car. She turned to face him, and he cupped her cheek. The moonlight softened his features. Her gaze went to his lips, and she remembered what they’d tasted like. Maybe she could throw caution to the wind and indulge herself, after all.

She waited patiently for him to give her one of the standard lines used by guys who were trying to get laid.

I’ll be gentle with you.

You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.

You can trust me.

“I can wait until you’re ready, no matter how long it takes,” he said.

Had she heard him right?

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“Like I told you before, I won’t pressure you,” he said. “Until you’re sure, nothing’s going to happen between us.”

She frowned. “Nothing at all?”

He laughed and dipped his head, capturing her lips with a swiftness that made her head spin. Her lips clung to his as his mouth moved over hers. She wound her arms around his neck, bringing him closer, opening her mouth in invitation. The kiss went from G-rated to scorching hot in mere seconds.

Suddenly it occurred to her that they were in full view of the noisy tourists and any car that passed by.

She pulled back at the same moment he did, bringing an abrupt end to what had been an amazing kiss.

“Wow,” he said.

She wet her lips and cleared her throat. “Are you still okay with taking it slowly?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t even pause to think about it. “It’s enough right now to know I’m the only man in your life.”

“Really?” She wasn’t sure why she kept pressing him.
Yes, you are,
a little voice inside her head whispered.
You want him to persuade you.

“Really.” He gave her a swift kiss on the lips and pulled back almost before it had begun. “Be careful driving home. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at camp.”

With a smile that looked wistful, he turned and walked in the direction of the fitness club where his car was parked. She stood watching him for long moments, not sure how she managed to resist the overwhelming urge to call him back.

Once she was inside the car, she sat behind the wheel, her head falling back against the cushioned headrest. Her heart was still beating too fast.

Had she really by her silence just said no to a man who’d made it a point not to capitalize on her weakness for him? A man like that came around very seldom, if at all.

She jolted herself out of her stupor and fished in her handbag for her keys. A noise startled her. The ring tone of a cell phone, she realized, but not her phone.

On the passenger seat beside her, the display of a dark-colored phone lit up. Probably Jack’s. He’d ridden with her from the beach to the pub. The phone must have fallen out of his pocket.

She picked it up and looked at the name on the display. Maria, it read. Jack’s sister, the private investigator who was looking into the Hayley Cooper case.

The phone stopped ringing, no doubt because the caller had been directed to voice mail. Jack’s sister would have to wait until tomorrow when Tara returned his cell for Jack to call back.

Tara tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and inserted the keys in the ignition. Before she started the car, Jack’s cell phone flashed the message that he had three new voice mails. Were they all from Maria? Maybe there was a family emergency and Jack’s sister needed to talk to him right away. The cell phone would be the only means she had of reaching him.

Tara pulled out of the parking spot and turned down the street where the fitness club was located, hoping to see Jack’s white pickup. It wasn’t there.

She pulled over to the curb, leaving her engine idling while she thought. If Jack’s sister had urgent news, it possibly couldn’t wait for tomorrow. Then again, hadn’t Jack said his sisters called all the time?

Tara dug through her purse until she found the piece of paper where Jack had written down his address. Now she had the option of driving to his beach house tonight and giving him the cell phone.

Of course, if there was no family emergency, maybe she and Jack would do something about their attraction for each other.

Tara put the car in gear and drove, not only unsure of what to do, but of her motivation. She was still trying to decide as she approached the fork in the road that led to Shell Beach.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

J
ACK
LEANED
BACK
ON
THE
recliner in the living room of his beach house, letting the ice do its magic on his shoulder.

His first move when he got back to the house had been to strip off his shirt en route to the freezer. He kept special inserts there that fit under his cold therapy wrap. Compression straps kept the wrap in place, enabling him to remain mobile.

Tonight he needed ice for more than his injury. The drive from Cape Charles had taken a good twenty minutes or so and his body still hadn’t cooled down from that kiss.

Before he started second-guessing himself for passing up yet another chance to make love to Tara, he picked up the TV remote and switched on a television sports channel.

The Cincinnati Kings were playing the Carolina Stars, the two organizations that had given up on him.

The camera panned in for a close-up of the Stars pitcher, a baby-faced kid Jack didn’t recognize. The pitcher appeared to be in his early twenties. If things had gone differently for Jack, he would have made it to the majors at about that age and stuck.

The young pitcher stared down the batter, nodded at the catcher’s signal, reared back and let the ball fly.

In time with the pitcher’s release, Jack’s shoulder gave a sharp twinge. It hurt a little more, though, to watch the batter swing and miss.

Not so long ago, Jack was throwing pitches like that.

He clicked a button on the remote and the television screen went dark. He picked up an issue of
Sports Illustrated
from the side table. The cover story was about the strides the Carolina Stars had made since joining the league as an expansion team.

About ten paragraphs into the story, a quote from the general manager jumped out at him. “Thanks to our excellent scouting system, we identified players we’ve been able to develop into solid major leaguers.”

Jack had been one of those players before he got hurt.

A rapping sounded on the front door. Glad for the interruption, he set down the magazine and got out of the recliner. He didn’t have a clue who it could be. In the short time since he’d rented the beach house, this was his first visitor.

He pulled open the door.

Tara stared at him, her eyes huge in her pale face, her lips parted as though asking to be kissed. She’d shed the jacket she wore in the pub and was dressed as she’d been when she played volleyball, in short shorts and a sleeveless top that hugged her breasts. As in the pub, her hair was loose around her shoulders. His body reheated despite the cool from the ice wrap.

“I sure am glad you’re exercising your prerogative to change your mind,” he said.

He put out his left hand, inviting her to take it so he could pull her inside. She placed something small and hard in his palm. His cell phone.

“You left this in my car,” she said. “I thought you might need it. Your sister’s called twice since I noticed it.”

He felt as if she’d thrown a bucket of ice water in his face. “Annalise?” he asked.

“Maria,” she said. “Her name came up on your screen.”

“Come on in.” He stepped back to make room for her as he checked the phone, noticing how she hesitated before crossing the threshold and pushing the door shut behind her. He dragged his gaze from her and focused on the phone.

“There are some texts, too.” Jack clicked through to his messages and read the ones from Maria. He sighed aloud. “She wants to know if I’m okay.”

“That’s it?” Tara asked like a rational person who understood too much checking up bordered on paranoia. Too bad his sisters didn’t share that mind-set.

“That’s it. When I didn’t answer her text, she called a few times. When I didn’t answer the calls, she texted again.” He held up a finger. “Please excuse me a moment.”

With his right arm hampered by the wrap, he used his left hand to both hold the phone and type in the text.
Im foine? Tslk tomorrow,
it read. Maria would have to deal with the typos. He hit the send button.

“That should satisfy her for tonight.” Jack was pretty sure Maria would understand that he’d call her in the morning. At least he’d spelled tomorrow right.

“You weren’t exaggerating when you said your sisters call all the time, were you?” Tara asked.

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Then I’m glad they can’t see you now,” she said. “That thing on your shoulder looks kind of worrisome.”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a way to promote healing. I was getting ready to take it off when you knocked on the door.”

He pulled apart the Velcro compression straps, resulting in a distinctive ripping noise. He shrugged out of the wrap, noticing that Tara’s brown eyes had gone wide. She was gaping at his bare chest.

“I take off my shirt when I put on the wrap,” he explained. “I can feel the ice working better against my bare skin.”

“You don’t have any scars.” She took a step toward him and he picked out a light, floral scent. Even after playing volleyball, she smelled great. “Just a couple faded marks.”

“From the small incisions the doctor made for the arthroscopic surgeries,” he said.

“Did the surgeries hurt?”

“Surprisingly, they weren’t too bad,” he said. “Rehab hurts like a bitch, though.”

She reached forward with her right hand and lightly trailed her fingers over the barely visible wounds. He sucked in a breath, afraid to act on her signals in case he was misinterpreting them.

“I have a confession to make,” she said in a soft, breathy voice. “I was pretty sure your sister didn’t need to talk to you tonight.”

Her lips replaced her fingertips on his shoulder, planting soft kisses at the site of his surgeries. She raised her eyes to his. “The phone was an excuse for me to do what you said when I got here.”

“What did I say?” He barely got the question past the thickness in his throat. His short-term memory seemed to be malfunctioning.

“That I was exercising my prerogative to change my mind.” She traced his lips with her fingertips. “I’m sure now, Jack.”

Good things come to those who wait,
he thought. He didn’t dare say it aloud. He didn’t dare say anything for fear she might change her mind again.

That, he didn’t think he’d survive.

Her lips grazed his. “Aren’t you going to show me where the bedroom is?” she asked, her breath warm and sweet against his mouth.

He almost laughed. The beach house consisted of a combination kitchen/living room, bathroom and single bedroom.

“It’s behind door number one.” He reached for her and led her there, pushing open the partially cracked door with his foot, telling himself not to rush things. With Tara, he wanted to stretch out his time. “The view from the bedroom is the reason I picked this place.”

Through the open blinds the moon reflected off the sand and the gently rippling water of the bay.

On most nights, Jack kept the lights in the bedroom off in order to see the water of the bay through the open blinds. He let go of Tara’s hand, crossed the room and pulled the blinds shut, plunging the room into darkness.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

He switched on his bedside lamp and rejoined her at the foot of the bed. “I’d rather look at you than the view.”

Her lips parted and she shook her head. “There you go again.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” she asked.

He shook his head, still not understanding.

“When you say things like that,” she said, “I can’t resist you.”

“Let’s find out if I can do some other things you won’t be able to resist.” He grinned and pulled her against him. Even her height was a turn-on. Her mouth was just inches below his, waiting for his kiss.

He claimed her soft, willing lips. He’d already figured out she liked long, drugging kisses. She opened her mouth in invitation and his tongue tangled with hers, teasing and tasting. Jack had never been addicted to anything in his life, except perhaps baseball. It occurred to him that he could get hooked on Tara.

He threaded one of his hands in her hair and slid the other slowly up her rib cage until he caressed her full breasts through the material of her shirt. She gasped against his mouth. His body grew hard in response, even harder than when he’d seen her at the door.

She lifted her arms and he pulled her sleeveless shirt and then her sports bra over her head. His fingers were shaking slightly, something that had never happened to him before. For a moment he didn’t touch her. He just stared. Her breasts were high and firm, the nipples already taut. Naked from the waist up, she looked like a goddess.

“I’ve been imagining you like this since I first saw you,” he said.

“Really?” Her voice was low pitched and throaty. “In front of the elementary school when you thought I was that missing girl?”

“Maybe not then,” he said. “But for sure at the grocery store. I had some naughty thoughts in the produce section.”

With her eyes dancing, she moved her hands to her waist and slowly shimmied out of first her shorts and then her panties.

Her legs were long, her stomach flat and her hips slightly rounded, all things that were evident when she was clothed. But her high firm breasts were large for a woman as thin as she was.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jack said. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“No fair,” she said. “I’m the only one who’s naked.”

He fixed that in record time, wincing in pain when he accidentally jerked his shoulder.

“Does your shoulder hurt?” she asked.

He ignored the throbbing. “It’s nothing.”

Tara closed the slim gap between them, lightly tracing the shape of his sore shoulder. He groaned and cupped her buttocks, bringing her securely against him, letting her feel how much he wanted her. He couldn’t remember ever desiring a woman more.

She lifted her mouth and he covered it with his in a hungry kiss, his tongue advancing and retreating, his hands roaming over her lovely naked skin.

The bed was nearby. He wasn’t sure how they got there, but suddenly they were tumbling together to the mattress. The thought ran through his mind that he was falling for her.

He rained kisses from her neck to the slope of her breasts. His tongue circled her nipple, which was already a hard peak. Soft sounds of pleasure escaped her lips. Pressing herself against him, she moved her hips in
invitation.

“Ah, Tara,” he said.

“Don’t you dare ask me if I’m sure,” she said.

Jack laughed, amazed that she could both turn him on and amuse him at the same time. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He intended to ease slowly inside her, but then she moved her lower body upward in blatant invitation.
He entered her, unable to hold himself back any longer. He didn’t have to, because she met him thrust for thrust.

His last coherent thought before he lost himself in her was the same one he’d had when they tumbled together to the bed.

He was falling for her.

* * *

T
ARA
CAME
SLOWLY
AWAKE
on Tuesday morning and stretched her limbs, feeling as content as a cat. No, scratch that. As content as a woman who’d been made love to by the most delicious man not once, but twice in—she checked the bedside clock—nine hours.

She sat bolt upright in bed, the sheets falling away from her naked breasts. It was already seven o’clock, and she needed to be at camp by nine.

The view of the bay was once again on display through the bedroom window. Jack must have opened the blinds when he awoke so she could enjoy the view. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. But where was he? She ran her hand over the side of the bed on which he’d slept and found it cold to the touch.

A murmur of voices drifted through the open door of the bedroom from the main part of the house. Did Jack have company? She listened more closely and could make out only Jack’s voice. He must be on the telephone.

She pulled her shirt over her head, tugged on her panties and got out of bed. She peeked around the side of the door. Jack sat on one of the kitchen chairs with a cell phone to his ear, his long, hair-sprinkled legs extended in front of him. His dark hair was tousled, he could have used a shave and he wore gym shorts and a T-shirt. Under the shirt his abdomen was flat and firm. She’d run her hands over the play of muscles just last night. Warmth spread through Tara as she remembered the other things they’d done to each other in bed and the way Jack had made very sure her needs were satisfied before meeting his own.

“I’m not becoming a recluse, Maria,” he said into the phone with what sounded like exaggerated patience. “I’m rehabbing my shoulder in a place where I can get some peace and quiet. There’s a difference.”

He fell silent as he listened to what was being said on the other end of the line. Suddenly his brows rose and his lips curved into a smile that crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He’d spotted her.

He pointed at the cell phone, silently mouthing the words
“My sister.”

She nodded and gestured toward the bedroom, hoping to convey she was going to use the bathroom and get dressed. Luckily she had a change of clothes in her gym bag, which Jack had fetched from the car the night before.

A short time later, she walked into the main living area of the house. Jack was still on the phone. He’d moved from the table to the refrigerator. He was bent at the waist, peering inside. He removed a carton of orange juice.

“Uh-huh.” He seemed to be only half paying attention. “Yep. Sure thing. Don’t worry, okay?”

He poured some orange juice into a glass, nodding once more. “Love you, too.”

He clicked off the phone, picked up the orange juice and turned back toward the table. This time when he saw her he didn’t smile. “You’re dressed. I was hoping you’d stay naked.”

She laughed. “Can I have some of that juice?”

“You can have mine.” He set the full glass on the table. Before she could pick it up, Jack reached for her.

He captured her mouth in a slow, thorough kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the now-
familiar sensations he could elicit so easily from her. Too soon, he lifted his mouth. He kept his arms locked loosely around her waist.

BOOK: The Truth About Tara
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