Want You Back (9 page)

Due to lack of space, they did an abbreviated ver
sion of a swing dance. For the first time in forever, Jenny found herself laughing out loud as he swung her around. She felt graceful and light and finally, at home in her body.

Below, people began to notice and point. Several clapped and cheered them on as the cars puttered past, the music gradually fading.

Not even winded, Jake bowed again, pulling her chair back into place so that she could take her seat He winked as they sat, Jenny breathless and flushed and feeling so electrically alive she felt exhilarated and new.

Until she glanced at their neighbors.

Peering at her over the rims of his glasses, Howard looked like he’d bit into a lemon and swallowed it whole. Pauline, trying to mirror his disapproval, only succeeded in a confused frown. Justine T. Speerlock wore a thunderous expression, leaning over and opening his mouth as if he meant to loudly
reprimand them. But Molly, soft brown eyes twinkling, laid her hand on his arm and prevented him with a few whis
pered words. Then, nodding at
J
enny and Jake, one co
rner
of her mouth twitched and she winked, her expression indulgent

Jenny wished the platform would open up and swal
low her. What had come over her? She felt so foolish, so embarrassed.

From below came the sound of cheering and shouts of “More!” even as the song faded in the distance.

“Is there more music?” Jake elbowed her, his wick
edly beautiful grin triumphant.

Suddenly, her embarrassment fled. Lifting her chin, she looked Jake square in the eye, or rather, his sunglasses. “The middle school band should be coming around the
corner
in a minute.” She sounded breathless, but realized she didn’t care about that either.

It was a the Fourth of July, a national holiday. The weather was perfect, and not a cloud marred the bright blue sky. There were booths with fresh water
melon and cotton candy and com on the cob for her to sample after the parade, and there would be a colossal display of fireworks, like there was every year. She had a picnic basket full of her best fried chicken, tart lemonade, and pie.

And she was with the most beautiful man she’d ever met. Letting herself enjoy the day had made her feel like the old Jenny for once and dang it—she’d enjoyed it! It struck her then that the Jenny she used to be was a lot more fun than the scared and afraid- to-feel Jenny she’d turned herself into.

Faintly she could hear the drams and the horns of the Ater middle school marching band. While not as practiced as the high school band, they still played a good march.

As they turned the
corner
, Jake bowed in front of her. “May I have this dance?” he intoned solemnly, then flashed that irresistible grin.

Not daring to look at the others, Jenny pretended to consider. Then, as the blaring march grew louder, she gave a regal nod and held out her hand.

The onlookers below, watching, broke out in a cheer.

Jake didn’t know what had come over Jenny—and he really didn’t care. All he knew was that, despite her baggy denim dress and despite her hair being up in a tight, professional bun, the old Jenny was back. He intended to enjoy her while it lasted.

They danced until there was no music then, arms linked,
watched the end of the parade. He told Jus
tin T. his choice for the best float, waiting while it was announced and the winner awarded the trophy.

Jenny was first down the stairs, her lovely face lit up like an excited child as she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the arcade and food vendors.

She tried her hand at coin tossing and threw a softball at some stacked milk bot
tle
s, missing them by a
mil
e.

    
“Da
rn
.” Lifting her face to his, she made an exag
gerated pout. “I wanted to win that stuffed octopus.”

    
He raised a brow. “Out of all the stuffed kittens and bears and puppies, you want that ugly old thing?”

    
Nodding, she paid the attendant and handed him the softballs. “Win it for me.”

It was a challenge and a dare. Jake weighed the softball in his hand and debated. “What do I get if I do?” he asked softly, glad the dark glasses hid his eyes. If she saw how badly he wanted her, no doubt she would skitter away in fear.

But Jenny didn’t back down. She swallowed, her bright eyes sparkling. “What do you want?” she whis
pered, her voice seductive, even though he knew it was not intentional.

“A kiss,” he told her
softly
. Then, before she could answer, he fired off the three softballs. They nailed the milk bottles, sending them crashing to the table.

The octopus was handed over and Jenny hugged it to her, looking anywhere but at him.

Damn. Had he ruined things by his request for a kiss? Jake knew he shouldn’t have said that, knew he had no right to claim a kiss, but realized he had no choice. He had to touch her, had to taste her. He knew this with a sense of wonderment and confusion, feeling as if he might die if he did not. It was all he could do to keep things platonic between them, even now, surrounded by townspeople.

But, he told himself, he was at least able to touch her, to hold her hand, her elbow, his callused fingers on her creamy, soft skin. For now, he would make this do, though later he could make no promises, even to himself.

They moved away from the crowded arcade, his hand
lightly
at her elbow.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, gruff-voiced.

Jenny nodded once, a quick jerk of her head. “I brought fried chicken,” she told him,
hesitantly
smil
ing that lopsided smile he remembered and loved.

Jake cursed under his breath. He wanted to kiss her now, circumstances be damned. He burned to kiss her now, but knew a sudden fear that she would leave if he did.

“When do you want to eat?” he asked carefully, trying not to stare at her too long.

She flashed him a
startled
look, then shrugged and laughed. “Well, I don’t know about you, but all that dancing did make me sort of hungry.”

Oh, he was hungry all right But not for food. Jake shook his head at his uncharacteristic impatience and managed a smile. “I could eat I guess.”

They found a bench under a gnarled old fruitless mulberry tree and sat, thighs touching, to eat.

The sun made her hair shine like golden fire as she rummaged in her basket, bringing out food with a childlike reverence.

He marveled at her easy trust wondering if she now believed he would not touch her, wondering too if she found him so easy to resist that sitting so close had no effect on her. Because these questions seemed a torment, he forced himself to concentrate on the food.

The fried chicken was crisp and juicy. Jake couldn’t remember when he’d tasted better. Oh, yes, he could. The last time he’d been in Ater with Jenny. She’d made him this same fried chicken, along with potato salad and homemade apple pie for dessert.

No one bothered them. Jake felt as if they were in their own
little
world, a world where he could gladly stay as long as Jenny was there. Though he had no right he couldn’t seem to stop torturing himself. He knew he had a debt to pay Jenny for the hurt he’d caused her, and intended to pay it any way he could.

But he’d come to the stark realization after several sleepless nights, that he could never be merely
J
enny’s friend. Her lover, yes. But he didn’t want to hurt her again and, since he could not marry her, he was afraid he was on the verge of doing
exactly
that Hurting her and hurting himself.

The sun lazily made its inevitable trip towards the western horizon. In companionable silence, they fin
ished their feast, Jenny carefully repacking the left
overs in her hamper.

The fireworks would start when the dusk became darkness, around nine or nine-thirty. They made their way over to the fairgrounds, the starting place of the parade and the place for the fireworks display. Already there were people with lawn chairs
and blan
kets, some playing
Frisbee
or catch, others just chat
ting or enjoying their meal.

Jenny had brought a blanket and, marching ahead of him, selected a spot. Jake helped her spread the blanket on the ground, noting the twin spots of color high in her cheeks. Ah, so maybe Jenny wasn’t as unaffected as he’d thought earlier.

Immensely cheered, Jake tried not to dwell on the erotic images his mind conjured up looking at Jenny and the blanket. He wondered if she remembered another blanket, spread like this one for a picnic they’d taken in a sun-dappled meadow.

Lowering himself to the blanket, he knelt beside her. “Jenny, do you remember—”

Her eyes widened as she took in his position. “I can’t believe you,” she muttered, disbelief and shock making her eyes huge. “Are you mocking even that?”

Too late he remembered that it had been on that same picnic that he’d knelt in front of her, as he did now, and asked her to be his wife.

    
She scrambled to her feet, one hand out in front of her as if to ward him off and backed away from him. “Leave me alone, Jake. I think you’d better go.”

    
Go? Not a chance. Moving slowly, Jake got to his feet.

“Jen, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You?” She shook her head, finally dislodg
ing the bun and sending her glorious hair flying. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Her voice was his undoing, all husky and smoky and trembling with anguish. In a simple motion, Jake pulled her into his arms, holding her
tightly
and murmuring soothing words of love into her
sweetly
scented hair. He could no more help himself than he’d been able to two years ago, when he’d proposed marriage knowing that they could pull him out any
time. Knowing he would leave her without a word, because he had no choice. He’d signed on for the long haul with them. Undercover work was his job and he was damn good at it.

But that didn’t mean he hadn’t loved her—didn’t still love her. Wouldn’t always love her. He groaned out loud as his body responded
instantly
to the shape and feel of her.

She cried
softly
, trembling and responsive in his arms.

Holding her, Jake rained tiny kisses on her neck, her hair, her shoulders, whispering endearments all the while.

Gradually, her breathing changed, becoming fast and shallow. Her hands came up around his neck, and she stroked his
hair with that fine,
gentle
touch he remembered. He raised his head to find she’d raised hers. Everything she felt was in her eyes, all the pent-up desire and hurt and—dare he hope— love.
  

Fumbling, Jake pulled off his sunglasses, want
ing her to read the same in his eyes.

All around them, the dusk deepened. People talked and horsed around and waited for the fireworks. Jenny and Jake, Jake and Jenny, together again, stood locked in each other’s arms and
silently
com
municated.

After two long years away from her, two years of hell, Jake finally felt alive again. And Jenny—if her tremulous smile of welcome was any indication—felt much the same.

Never mind that he had nothing to offer her, never mind that it couldn’t be, wouldn’t be forever. She was his Jenny again, and that was all that mattered right now.

Chapter Seven

    
He was driving her mad.

    
Teasing her, tempting her, setting her on fire with tender kisses and the strong, sure touch of his work- roughened hands.

She wanted him with an intensity that bordered on insanity.

So she reached up, pulled his head down, and covered his mouth with hers.

    
The kiss was deep and drugging, slow and abso
lutely wonderful. It made her feel
exactly
the same way the previous one head. Delicious. Alive. Hot

    
Moaning her pleasure low in her throat, Jenny leaned into it, wrapping her arms around Jake to keep him close. She could feel his arousal, hard and swollen.

    
For the first time in two years, Jenny forgot where she was or who might be watching. She wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. She felt she might die if she didn’t have him.

Jake lifted his head and then, hands on her shoul
ders,
gently
set her away. Even in the gathering dark
ness, she could see her own desire reflected in them.

“The fireworks
...”
He cleared his throat, swal
lowed, then tried again. “The fireworks are about to start.”

For a moment she thought he was talking about them, about the heat they’d
made
between them. Then, as the sounds of people laughing and talking registered, she realized he meant the real fireworks, the Fourth of July fireworks that were about to go off any moment.

Horrified, Jenny realized that if Jake hadn’t stopped her, she might have made love to him right here, right now, in the grass with the entire town nearby. Her face flamed, though the now near-total darkness hid it.

She wanted to die, to run,
and to
hide. Instead, she stood alone, ashamed, and fought back conflicting emotions of shame and sadness and the still present, still powerful, desire.

“Harumph.”

Oh, great, could it get any worse? Recognizing the voice,
Jenny turned slowly.

“What do you think you are doing?” Justin T. Speerlock wagged a finger at her, his face purple from outrage. His wife, Jenny noticed, was nowhere in sight.

“Excuse me.” Jaw set, Jake moved in front of Jenny. “With all due respect Justin, this is none of your business.”

Jenny thought Justin T. would swallow his tongue. With a resigned sigh, she stepped around Jake. She’d
known Justin T. Speerlock her entire life and knew how to handle him. If only she could think of some
thing to say that would excuse her strange behavior. “It’s not what it looked like—” she began.

“If I were your daddy—”

“Now hold on just a moment.” Again Jake put himself in front of Jenny. “I think—”

This time Justin moved around Jake. “Listen up, Jenny girl. I know you and Jake here were once engaged to be married, and I can allow as to how you might”—scratching his head, he took time to shoot a glare at the gathering crowd of onlookers—“want a
little
revenge. But when you tried to humiliate Jake up in the parade platform earlier, why, you made yourself look plumb foolish instead.”

“Oh really?” Jenny’s voice sounded totally calm. Jake, who knew that the calmness was a prelude to a true red-headed fury, again tried to intervene. “I
honestly
believe this is just one big—”

Oblivious, Justin simply raised his voice and kept talking, ignoring Jake. “Now you got a debt to pay,
little
girl.” Warming up, Justin T. gestured around at the growing crowd. “Yep, the way I see it, you gotta figure out a way to make it up to Jake for the way you tried to humiliate him back there.”

Jake shut up and began paying attention. This idea might definitely have some possibility here.

“Oh no.” Jenny, who still knew him better than anyone, caught the drift of what Jake was thinking and shot him a warning glare. “I don’t think so.”

Hiding his grin, this time Jake moved over to stand next to Justin T., clapping the older man on the back. “You know, Justin is the mayor here,” he said
softly
, knowing the entire crowd could still hear. “Maybe he’s right.”

    
“Of course I’m right,” Justin T. boomed. “Ain’t
I?"

    
The crowd clapped and roared their agreement. Jenny’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato. Regretfully, Jake knew an angry Jenny would make his life miserable. “I enjoyed the
dancing.” He raised his voice, nodding. “Jenny doesn’t owe me anything.”

“Nonsense,” Justin T. boomed. “You’re a respect
able businessman now. Got a reputation to uphold. Then again, so does Jenny.”

    
“I’m doing his books.” The hint of defiance in her voice had been replaced by a tinge of desperation.

“That’s business.” Justin T. dismissed her com
ment with a wave of his pudgy hand. “Of course you’re doing his books. That’s what you do.”

Jake had a flash of inspiration. “She’s also helping me decorate Malvoran House,” he announced, ignor
ing Jenny’s startled look. “She’s going to make sure everything looks perfect for opening day.”

Justin T. thought about it a moment, then nodded, looking impressed. “All right then.” He harrumphed again, fumbling in his pocket for a cigar. When he found it, he held it to his nose and sniffed. “Did you get that, Louella?”

“Sure did, sugar.” A tiny, plump woman with white hair nearly as tall as she was, stepped forward, making furious notes on a note pad. “Even though the light’s nearly gone, I got most of it down. It’ll be in the paper tomorrow.”

Only Jake heard Jenny’s quiet groan.

Satisfied, the mayor inclined his head at them and wandered off. The knot of people surrounding them began to disperse.

    
When everyone was gone, Jenny shook her head
and folded her arms across her chest. “I am not helping you decorate the restaurant.”

    
“Of course you’re not,” he said soothingly. “I just said that to get you off the hook.”

    
“Oh.” She sighed with relief, uncrossing her arms. “Thank you.”

    
“You’re welcome.” He counted
silently
, and when he got to eight, Jenny flashed him a horrified look.

    
“Louella’s gonna put it in her column.”

    
Jake shrugged. “So?”

    
“So?” She rolled her eyes. “How well do you deco
rate?”

    
Ah, he had her now. Reeling her in would be a matter of seconds. “Good as any man, I guess.”

    
“That’s what I was afraid of.”

     
Nine, ten.

    
“Looks like I am going to help you decorate.” She didn’t sound pleased. But then, he didn’t expect her to. He was pleased
enough for both of them.

    
“You don’t have to.” But they both knew she did. Otherwise, if Jake decorated and did a horrible job, everyone would think she’d done it.

    
In the distance a series of pops signaled the begin
ning of the fireworks.

    
Jake grabbed her hand. “Come on,” he said, his voice
gentle
. “Let’s go closer so we can have a good view.”

    
Jenny went, wondering why she didn’t feel more grateful that he’d tried to help her out Between the dancing and the kiss—oh, the earth-shattering kiss— and now this, she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go home, crawl underneath the covers and go to sleep.

    
They came to the edge of the meadow and stopped, standing in the back behind dozens of lawn chairs and blankets and hushed, awestruck children. In the starless night sky a burst of blue exploded, followed by brilliant white streamers, shooting stars falling to earth.

Every year Jenny watched the same fireworks; every year she got a chill from the glorious patriotic beauty of it. This year, it barely registered. All she could think about was how good it had felt being held in Jake’s arms. And how she would resist him, alone together in beautiful Malvoran House.

Still, now that she had no choice, the idea appealed to her. She’d always loved that house, always yearned for a chance to decorate it in a way that would do it justice. Now it appeared she would have that chance. She felt like her life had started over, given her a new beginning, a second chance at happiness.

To everyone else it was an ordinary fireworks dis
play, festive and pretty. But as Jenny watched the purples and greens and violets exploding, she real
ized she’d been lying to herself for two years. She hadn’t been alive, she’d been merely existing. In her grief and her pain she’d sealed her emotions away, trying to become a person who let nothing affect her.

Until Jake had come back, and she’d felt the agony all over again.

Yet there had been more than pain. She’d felt once again the sweetness of desire, the laughter that comes from the heart. She’d danced to the music the way she used to dance through life, and in return she’d been given back a measure of the joy she had once taken for granted.

Jake. He’d brought her back to herself. In a way, she did owe
him. She owed him for that.

Biting her lip, she squeezed his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he squeezed back, his face lifted to the dazzling display overhead.

Again, Jenny reflected on the drastic change her life had taken. Being with Jake made her so happy. But—and she knew this with the kind of blinding insight that usually only comes in dreams—she had become strong in the two years he’d been gone. Strong enough to make it on her own, without him. Strong enough to realize that nothing came with unbreakable promises. Strong enough to admit that she’d rather have what part of Jake she could than do totally without

He was here now, for whatever reason. He’d asked to be her friend. Until now she hadn’t thought that was possible, in any way, shape or form. Now, with desire still aching within her, she wondered if they could indeed be friends, maybe more. She guessed she’d find out since they would be spending time together decorating his restaurant

Then when Jake moved on—and he would, she could admit that now—she would have the part of him that lived on in her memories.

Jenny laughed out loud at the exact moment they began to fire off the firework finale. She felt free and full of life. She wanted to take Jake’s hand and dance again, she wanted to find a secluded place and let them kiss each other senseless. Instead she stood and clapped at the right moment, slipping her hand from Jake’s to do so.

Then it was over and they turned to go. Still, Jake didn’t speak, he simply took her arm this time. They picked their way over the grass, Jenny’s mind still whirling. He helped her up into his Jeep, closing the door behind her, and climbed into his side. Starting the engine, he started to shift into drive, then paused.

“Jenny.”

The way he said her name made her shiver. Jenny heard in his voice all the pent-up desire and longing she’d been
battling
with ever since he’d returned.

“I don’t want to take you home yet.” He looked away, his profile hard and rugged in the dim light. “Come home with me. Please. You can look around the place, get some ideas.”

Jenny’s heart stuttered. It was too soon. For a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. This, she told herself, was what she wanted. Then why this absurd sense of panic, the feeling that things moved too quickly, that shadows lurked under every tree?

Despite her grand intentions of trying to start over, could it be that she was still afraid of being hurt again?

“I can’t,” she heard herself say, and nearly groaned out loud. “It’s late, and I’m tired.”

Without another word, he put the Jeep in drive and pulled out into the street Still not looking at her, he sighed. “Fine. But still, it’s early, Jen. Barely ten-thirty. Let’s go somewhere and have a drink. Like friends.”

Friends,
she reminded herself, trying to push away the ever present desire that made her blood simmer.
Friends.

“There’s a quiet place on Eighth. They play jazz.” She signaled her agreement with a quick smile, her emotions churning too near to the surface.

As long as she didn’t let herself give in to the seduc
tive music and the dim lighting, she would be okay. No holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes like lovers. Friends, she told herself firmly, warming to the idea. This might be possible. The Eighth Street Pub was quiet a good place to go to talk. They had live music on weekends and Jake had always liked the sultry murmur of jazz. And maybe in the bar they could talk over drinks, catch up on what had gone on in both their lives for the past twenty-four months.