Tempted by Love: Jack Jock Steele (The Steeles at Silver Island Book 1)

by Melissa Foster

  She shrugged. “I always wanted a pretty wedding, but not too fancy. Something smallish. I had visions of a beautiful white wedding gown, and I know most girls want a spring or summer wedding, but I always dreamed of getting married in the winter. I love the winter. Everything feels so crisp, and the holidays and New Year’s are so festive. But Tim had to get back to work, and I don’t really know why we didn’t wait to have a wedding. We just sort of decided, I guess, and ended up at the courthouse.” She pushed food around on her plate and said, “Two years later I got pregnant with Hadley, and after she was born, we separated, and I came back home. Then we got divorced.”

  Her tone was too casual for the pain in her eyes. “Is he still in the picture?”

  “No. He didn’t want children.”

  He touched her hand, bringing her eyes to his. He wished he could erase the sadness he saw in them. “I’m sorry you went through that. You didn’t know he didn’t want children when you got married?”

  “No. He said he wanted a family one day, and I’ve always wanted a big family. But when I got pregnant, he started working more hours. I knew things weren’t great, but I was busy with my own work at the resort, and I wasn’t one of those cute pregnant girls, so I assumed he was just keeping himself extra busy so he wouldn’t have to…you know,” she said softly. “Be close to me.”

  “Christ, Daphne.” Jock gritted his teeth, wishing he could track down the prick and tear him apart for hurting her. “He didn’t deserve you. You’re gorgeous, and I’m sure when you were pregnant you were even more beautiful.”

  “Thank you, but I wasn’t. I should have seen the writing on the wall over those nine months, but I guess I didn’t want to. He was never interested in doing all the fun things couples do to prepare for having a baby, like setting up the nursery, talking about names, making future plans.” Her gaze fell to her plate again, and she said, “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters a hell of a lot.” He covered her hand with his and said, “Look at me.” When she did, his heart swelled at the courage looking back at him. “You matter, and your feelings matter, every minute of every single day. That’s always the case.” He didn’t think it was possible to feel worse about the way he reacted to Hadley, but knowing that little girl’s own father had turned his back on them did the trick. He was more determined than ever to try to find a way to fix it.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “I have learned that. I was so young and naive back then. When my mom had my sister, my father bought her a charm bracelet with a charm of a little girl with a pink stone in the belly. Then, when Sean and I were born, he added to it. Sean’s was a blue stone. She still wears it. I always loved that bracelet. I had dreams of being given one for my own daughter. I imagined a big, happy family with trips to the park and flying kites on weekends. I dreamed of movie nights where we all cuddled together and having that feeling where it didn’t matter how stressful anything in life was, because at the end of the day, I would have this great family to cherish and a husband who would rather be with me than anywhere else.” She had a faraway look in her eyes, but she sighed, and that look changed to something less. “But those are pie-in-the-sky dreams. Hadley wasn’t planned, obviously. I had an IUD and it didn’t work. Learned my lesson with that one. But I was happy about the pregnancy, and I believed in marriage. My parents have a great marriage, so I thought once the baby was born and I lost the baby weight, we’d find our way back to each other. Babies are supposed to bring people together, right?”

  “You weren’t naive, and what you went through had nothing to do with your weight, Daphne. A man who can turn his back on his pregnant wife doesn’t deserve to have a wife.”

  Her expression turned more fierce than sorrowful, and she slipped her hand out from beneath his. “He turned his back on Hadley, and that was worse than turning his back on me. The night she was born, he told me he’d made a mistake and he didn’t want a family after all. He hasn’t seen her since she was a week old. He didn’t even want her to have his name,” she said with a biting tone. “That was actually good, because I was so hurt and angry for Hadley, I didn’t want her to have his name, either. I gave her my maiden name, and I went back to using it after the divorce.”

  “You were hurt and angry for Hadley, but what about for yourself? You trusted him. You gave up your life here for a new life with him, and he pulled the rug out from under you. I wish I had known you then so I could have helped you through it.”

  “You’re so nice,” she said softly.

  “Anybody would want to help you.”

  “My family was there for us when I came home. It wasn’t easy, but we made it.”

  “I’m sorry to say this, but Tim sounds like an ass. Marriage vows are one of the few things in this life that a person should be able to count on to mean something.” He took her hand and brushed his thumb over the back of it. “He should have been pampering you and telling you how beautiful you were during your pregnancy, not staying away and making you feel bad about yourself for carrying a baby he helped create.”

  “That seems like a fairy tale to me.”

  “It’s not a fairy tale. It’s love, Daph. When you love someone—as a friend or as something more—you can’t help but shower them with it.”

  She glanced at their joined hands and said, “It sounds like you have firsthand experience. Have you ever been in love?”

  Guilt wound through him like a serpent seeking prey. He let go of her hand and finished his wine, eating in silence as he pushed the ugliness of his past aside.

  “Should I take that as a yes?” she asked carefully.

  “No,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I’ve never been in love. I just know it exists.” He’d heard it in every one of Harvey’s stories about his wife, seen it between his parents, and he’d seen it in Kayla’s eyes even if it hadn’t been aimed at him.

  He wanted to tell Daphne the rest of his truth, but she was looking at him so adoringly, free from the shadows of his past. He didn’t want to take the chance that the truth would make her see him differently. He wanted to give himself tonight to bask in her light, to enjoy the friendship of this incredible woman who made him laugh, and feel, and want so much more of a life than he’d seen in his future. Just one night and then he’d tell her everything.

  “I know it exists, too,” she said. “Even if it’s not in the cards for this package deal.”

  “You worry a lot about that, don’t you? The fact that you’re a single mom and how men see you because of that?”

  DAPHNE PUSHED THE last of her noodles around on the plate, feeling like she was about to reveal her underbelly, which was silly given what she’d already revealed, but it was true. What happened with Tim was in her past, and she’d gotten out of that bad situation, but Jock had touched on a subject nobody had ever asked her about. Not even her family. She talked superficially with her friends about dating as a single mom, but they’d never even dug into her feelings. That made her want to open up with him.

  “Hadley changed everything about me, mostly in a good way. I know that the majority of guys aren’t looking for an instant family, and it’s not like I’m out there desperately seeking a husband. While I’d like to fall in love and all of that, my focus isn’t on that. It’s on keeping my head above water and taking care of my little girl. My grandmother once said that single people in their twenties are the stars of the show, young families are who those stars aspire to be, and empty nesters are invisible. I think she needed another category for single moms. We’re pretty invisible, too. But single dads? They’re every girl’s dream, because if a man can put a child above all else, then he has an amazing capacity to love. So to answer your question, do I worry about being a single mom? No. I am a single mother, and I would never want a life without Hadley in it. I accept and love my reality. But I know where I stand in the social atmosphere. Having a child on my hip makes me invisible to most guys.”

  “A man would have to be blind not to see you
.” He touched her hand again, his gaze soft and emphatic, like he really wanted her to hear whatever he was about to say. “Your reality is that you’re an amazing woman and mother, and a great friend, and you have a sweetheart of a little girl. You both deserve to be loved and to be treated like the special ladies you are.”

  The way he was looking at her, his touch, and the sweet things he said made her feel like she was floating. She’d never felt so seen and appreciated. She wanted to float right out of her chair and into his arms. She knew she shouldn’t feel that way given his trouble with Hadley, but heaven help her, because if she could float, there’d be no stopping her. But they were supposed to be friends, and this wasn’t a date, which meant she was reading everything wrong again.

  Embarrassed and flustered, she said, “Are you ready for dessert?” She pushed to her feet and carried her plate to the sink. Her heart was beating too fast to even think about eating. She turned around, and Jock was right there, pinning her in place.

  “Did I say something wrong?” he asked carefully.

  “Wrong? No. Of course not. Nothing wrong, all good. I just thought you might be ready for dessert.”

  She tried to step around him, but he touched her hip and guided her in front of him again. He stepped closer, his fingers pressing into her. She was so nervous she must be hallucinating, because she swore the air between them crackled and popped.

  “Talk to me, Daph.” His eyes brimmed with desire. He brushed her hair away from her face with his fingertips, an intimate and excruciatingly sexy touch. His lips curved up, and he said, “There are those mesmerizing eyes of yours.”

  “You can’t say things like that. It’s confusing. Candles and wine, cooking together, and talking about my muffins. Maybe it’s because I haven’t spent time alone with a man in forever, but when you call me pretty and say I’m special and everything else you’ve said, I feel things that I shouldn’t. I know you just want to be friends, and that’s good.” The words flew from her lips faster than she could think. “I like you. I want this friendship. I want you. Oh geez! I didn’t mean to say that. But I have all these other thoughts, and I mean”—she looked down his body, and what a magnificent body it was!—“they’re not clean thoughts. They’re not friend thoughts. They’re thoughts I have no business thinking, and I don’t know how to—”

  He crushed his lips to hers so unexpectedly, she didn’t reciprocate in those first few electric seconds as she processed the taste of wine and lust in his sensual demand. His arm circled her waist, crushing her to him, not too hard, but definitely possessive and eager. His tongue swept over hers, probing deep and erotic, then easing to a kiss so sweet she wanted to live inside it. Just when her legs turned to jelly, he probed deeper again, and her thoughts spun away. His hand pushed beneath her hair, cradling her head as he angled her mouth beneath his, holding her exactly where he wanted her. He wasn’t just kissing her. He was possessive, claiming, and suddenly she was right there with him, giving herself over to their passion. He made greedy noises, like he’d been waiting his whole life for this very moment, and oh, what that did to her! He was so big, so hard and delicious, she wanted to savor everything—the taste of his mouth, the feel of his tongue as he took his fill, the slamming of his heart against her, and the press of his hand on her bottom. She ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, moaning at the feel of his muscles. When he eased his efforts, she went up on her toes, desperate for more. Their bodies ground together, and she pushed her hands into his thick hair, holding tight. He groaned low in his throat, his hips pressing forward, grinding against her, and she felt herself go damp. She was dizzy with desire, her body pulsing with need. She’d never kissed any man so freely or feverishly. Their kisses went on and on, and when their lips finally parted, she felt him trembling just as she was.

  “God, Daphne,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first saw you last summer.”

  His confession sent her emotions reeling. She couldn’t speak, could barely move for the need coursing through her veins. That was okay, because she didn’t want to talk. She pulled his mouth back to hers, and he devoured her with slow, drugging kisses.

  “Mommy—”

  They jerked apart at Hadley’s cry. Jock’s hazy gaze quickly sharpened, snapping Daphne’s mind back to reality. He stepped away as Hadley cried out again.

  Breathless, she said, “I have to—”

  “Yeah. I’ll take off.”

  “I’ll just be a few—”

  Hadley’s cries escalated.

  Jock glanced down the hall, at the dishes, the table, and finally at Daphne, the apprehension in his eyes unmistakable. “She needs you. We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

  As he headed for the door, she went to take care of Hadley, trying to ignore the disappointment filling her up inside. She heard her apartment door close as she lowered herself to the edge of Hadley’s bed and caressed her daughter’s cheek. “Shh. It’s okay, baby. Mama’s here.”

  Hadley whimpered, “Owly.”

  Daphne found her owl beneath the blanket and Hadley clutched it to her chest, letting out a long, relieved sigh, and closed her eyes. Daphne lay next to her, gently rubbing her back and staring into space. The apprehension on Jock’s face flashed before her eyes. How could she have been so stupid to allow herself to get lost in a man who she knew bolted when he saw her daughter? A knot of self-loathing tightened in her chest.

  This was her life, bedtimes and wakeful nights, sippy cups and stuffies. Her misguided fantasy with Jock had no place in her little girl’s world, and that world was all that mattered. If tonight proved anything, it was that she couldn’t just be friends with Jock, and anything else would only cause her, and possibly Hadley, pain. She had to put a stop to this madness. No more late-night chats and definitely no more scintillating kisses.

  She climbed out of Hadley’s bed and made her way back to the kitchen. Flames from the candles danced in the darkness. The unopened bakery box sat on the counter, and dishes cluttered the table. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew she was making the right move by ending things tomorrow. So why did it hurt so badly?

  Chapter Seven

  JOCK STRODE OUT of the boxing club Friday afternoon just as angry at himself as he’d been when he’d walked in. He’d sparred several rounds with Brock, who had gone at him hard. Unfortunately, not hard enough to obliterate the hurt he’d seen in Daphne’s eyes when he’d left last night. He hadn’t even gotten halfway to his cottage before he’d stopped and debated going right back up to her apartment to apologize and to try—just fucking try—to get through Hadley’s cries without being thrown back into the nightmare that plagued him. But he’d already hurt Daphne enough. She deserved a man without a head full of ghosts.

  He’d spent the rest of the night trying to convince himself to let her go. But their nights together replayed in his head like the best movies, and their kisses…

  Holy hell, those kisses.

  When he’d kissed women in the past, he’d never thought about much, and certainly not about the actual kiss. But kissing Daphne had been different from the very first second their lips had touched. It had been a whole-body experience. He’d been acutely aware of everything about her. Her lips were warm and sweet, but he’d felt her hesitate, which had made his protective urges surge. He’d gone from taking to coaxing her into the safety of him, easing his efforts, giving her room to retreat, learning what she responded to, and wanting her to trust him as badly as he’d wanted her kisses. But she hadn’t retreated. She’d given in to her desires, going up on her toes and fisting her hands in his hair. He fucking loved that. His heart had beat faster, he’d held her tighter, and he’d been rewarded with the eagerness of a seductress. He’d gotten swept up in all of her, from the lustful sounds she’d made to the tiny gasp that had followed each one, as if she were embarrassed but couldn’t stop herself. When she’d pressed all of her luscious body against him, it had taken a will of steel not to touch
her in all the places he wanted to, to show her how beautiful she was by cherishing every glorious curve.

  He’d been kicking himself all day for not getting her number. He’d wanted to apologize this morning for the way he’d taken off, but she must have left early with Hadley because she was gone by the time he got outside. He was biding his time until she was free after work. He’d tried to distract himself with writing, but it was like pulling teeth. He’d gone for a run, but five miles later the hurt in her eyes still plagued him. He’d hoped boxing would clear his head, but that was a bust, too.

  He’d earned her trust only to break it by leaving, and that gutted him.

  He climbed into his SUV, glancing at the time as he drove out of the parking lot. It wasn’t quite noon. There was no way he’d make it all day without losing his mind. He made a U-turn and headed for the café on the corner. Maybe Daphne would have a few minutes to talk with him during her lunch break, even if it had to be at her desk.

  By the time he left the café, he felt mildly less pissed off. At least he had a plan.

  He parked at his cottage and walked up to the office, hoping she could spare a few minutes and mentally rehearsing and tweaking his apology. He heard voices as he climbed the porch steps. When he opened the door, a group of people standing in front of Daphne’s desk turned. Fuck.

  “Excuse me.” He stepped around them, aware of everyone watching him, probably thinking he was butting in line. When Daphne came into view, everything else disappeared. The phone was balanced between her ear and shoulder as she typed on the computer. Her eyes shifted his way, but a strained, icy smile lifted her lips. His gut plummeted. He’d give anything to see the smile he was used to. The one that lit up her beautiful face and righted all the wrongs in the world.

  He set the lunch bag on the desk and whispered, “Lunch.”

  Her brows knitted, and she mouthed, Thanks.