Taming the Mountain Man (Tamarack Ridge Romances Book 3)

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Taming the Mountain Man (Tamarack Ridge Romances Book 3) Page 11

by Jeanette Lewis


  Jack leaned in and examined one of the pictures. Then he chuckled. “There, you look like the girl on the playground I remember.”

  She knew which one he was talking about—second grade, freckles and pigtails and missing teeth. “Except for the split lip,” she said.

  “You were cute,” he said as he turned away from the mantel.

  There was a long moment while they looked at each other across the quiet room. Jennica found she was holding her breath. “And now?” she finally whispered. It was a dumb question, very juvenile, but she had to know.

  His amber eyes gleamed. “You’re still very cute—gorgeous even. And you’re a knockout in that dress.”

  A new spark lit her heart, and she took a step toward him. “I think we need to talk about that kiss.”

  He gave a deep sigh filled with more sorrow than satisfaction, and the spark fizzled. “That kiss never should have happened. I’m sorry,” Jack said.

  “But why? You just said that you think I’m …” She trailed off as her cheeks grew hot.

  “Jennica, I’ve said it before, I’m not a relationship kind of guy,” Jack said gently.

  “That could change,” she suggested.

  “I’ve seen firsthand how much pressure you’re under, and frankly, it’s pretty despicable,” Jack continued. “I wish I could help, but I can’t.”

  Somewhere in the back of her brain came a warning that she was pushing too far and risked making a fool of herself. But she shut that part out. She was tired of never saying what she really thought, never getting what she really wanted. She met his eyes. “I don’t believe you. I think you want more,” she said softly.

  He ran a hand through his long hair. “Don’t push it, Jennica.”

  “Why? I know you like me; you’re just too scared to admit it.”

  Jack’s eyes gleamed as he came toward her, one step, then two. Jennica shifted, feeling a bit like a deer caught in the scope of a hunter. Or a rabbit staring down a wolf. Jack prowled across the room, totally silent. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Jack reached her and stood still. She could feel the heat coming off his body, cutting through the fabric of his blue shirt like it was cobwebs.

  He brought one hand up and ran his thumb down her cheek, veering toward her lips. Heat pooled in her belly, and she forced herself to meet his eyes as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip, catching, pulling at the skin there.

  Jack’s eyes dropped from hers to her mouth and then back up. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispered huskily.

  Jennica’s breathing came fast and shallow. She wanted this, more than she’d wanted anything in recent memory. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, feel his arms around her, crushing her against his chest. She wanted to touch him, taste him, be swept away by him.

  Jack’s thumb moved, softly tracing the line of her upper lip. “Do you?” he asked again. His eyes were dark with desire, heavy-lidded eyes. Her own limbs felt so heavy, like melted caramel.

  “Yes,” Jennica said.

  His head dipped closer and her eyes slid closed. He was so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

  “Don’t push me,” Jack whispered. The heat disappeared as he drew back, dropping his thumb from her lips.

  Her eyes flew open and Jennica almost gasped in disappointment. Her breathing was shallow and her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

  Desire quickly turned to anger. He’d made a fool out of her on purpose.

  She glared at him. “Thanks for the date. There’s the door.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she spun around and hurried down the hall, slamming her bedroom door extra hard. Thank goodness Grandma was spending another night at Aunt Michelle’s.

  Jennica leaned against the closed bedroom door, her chest heaving with anger and still a little bit of pent-up desire. Through the window, she heard Jack’s truck fire up and the wheels crunching on the asphalt as he drove away.

  She pressed one trembling hand to her forehead. She’d let herself get carried away, and he had been more than happy to call her on it. Now every time he came into the store, they’d both be thinking about it. And she’d want to slap him.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered to herself.

  Jack drove home much too fast. The speed limit along Main Street was thirty-five, and he looked down to see he was doing almost fifty. Oh well. It was after eleven, and Tamarack Ridge practically rolled up the streets at night. There wasn’t another car on the road as far as he could see, and if one of the deputies was lurking and wanted to pull him over, so be it. He gunned the engine, notching the speedometer up to sixty. If he got pulled over, at least he’d deserve the ticket.

  This whole thing was incredibly dumb. Jennica was lonely and probably cracking under the pressure of a long day. He’d made too big of a deal out of it, and now he’d embarrassed her. The angry slamming of her bedroom door had said it plainer than any words. This was over.

  Which was what he wanted, right? He didn’t want a relationship, hadn’t wanted a relationship for years. And even if he did want a relationship, a girl like Jennica was exactly the wrong kind of person for him. She was an up-and-down kind of girl—the kind who would start a water fight or take off on a road trip on a whim. She radiated impulsiveness and drama, and he’d vowed long ago to never get sucked into that kind of thing again.

  But along with the drama, she also brought something else—an intensity he hadn’t experienced in a long time. A feeling of being alive, really and truly alive instead of merely existing. When they’d kissed at the wedding, it was like everything was richer. Colors brighter, smells stronger, the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her lips on his … it was just intense. He could think of no other way to put it. It was like he’d been watching a black-and-white movie and Jennica had turned on the color. It was bold and vibrant and unsettling at times, but it was there—in his face, demanding to be noticed. There was a certain heady realness to it, a feeling of being alive, of being an actual participant in life instead of merely an observer who sits on the sidelines and hopes not to be noticed.

  It had been this way with Valerie. And look how that had turned out.

  Jack shook his head. He couldn’t … wouldn’t go through that again. Some people were made for the ups and downs of high drama, but not him.

  He reached home and went inside to shower and change out of the suit. It was past eleven, but tomorrow was Sunday. The lumberyard was closed and he had nowhere to be. After a quick snack, he threw on his old flannel work shirt and went out to the shop. He’d been itching to try out the press, and now was the perfect time; he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A week after the wedding, Jennica found Colton unloading a shipment in the storage room of the store. He and Leigh had returned from their trip to Georgia the night before, and she doubted he’d had time to hear any of the gossip around town yet.

  “Tell me about Jack Hale,” she said.

  Colton looked up from where he was slicing open a box. “Why?”

  “You guys are friends, right?”

  “We go hunting together sometimes, and he brings his horses to help me haul gear in and out of camp.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So that means you’re friends.”

  Colton grinned. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why’s he still single?”

  “Are you interested?”

  Jennica hesitated. “If I was interested, what would you say?” she asked, working to keep her voice casual.

  Colton pulled an armload of jackets from the box and stacked them on a chair. “I’d say good luck.”

  “Really? That’s it?”

  Colton had begun breaking down the box, but he stopped and met her eyes. “Jack’s a good guy. I only meant it was none of my business.” He stacked another armload of jackets on top of the first. “He’s a great shot too. A few years ago he got a buck at 300 yards near Silverfish. That thing was huge.�
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  Jennica rolled her eyes. Figured that Colton would only want to talk about hunting. “What about his previous relationships?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How many have there been, what happened … the usual rundown.”

  Colton raised one eyebrow. “How should I know?”

  She threw up her hands in frustration. “You guys have spent weeks together out hunting, sitting around a campfire, riding horses through the woods … you don’t talk about stuff like that?”

  “About relationships? Guys don’t talk about stuff like that.”

  “So you never wax poetic about Leigh around a campfire?”

  He chuckled. “I never wax poetic, period.”

  But there was a lilt in his voice, a slight twinkle in his eye that hadn’t been there before. As happy as she was for her friends, Jennica couldn’t stop the thread of envy that squirmed through her. Not for Colton. She and Colton had never been more than friends, and he and Leigh were perfect together.

  But Jennica wanted that. Wanted a man whose eyes would light up when he talked about her. Someone to cuddle with during a movie, someone who cared how her day had gone. A man who would shave off his entire beard simply to impress her family.

  Jack had seemed like that man. There had definitely been something hovering between them at the wedding. But then she’d ruined it.

  “I think there was something several years ago with a girl,” Colton finally said. “I don’t know any details, but I’m pretty sure she broke his heart.”

  “Valerie?” Jennica said quickly.

  “Yeah, that sounds right,” Colton replied. “I don’t know any details, only that it tore him up pretty bad.”

  “That would explain why he’s so weird about relationships,” Jennica said.

  Colton shook his head. “Nah. He’s weird anyway. I don’t think his broken heart has anything to do with that.”

  It was childish, but totally necessary given the situation. Jennica stuck her tongue out at Colton, and his laugh followed her as she left the stock room.

  She took a quick lap of the sales floor to make sure everything was in order, then pulled her phone from her pocket. She had Jack’s number. How many times in the past week had she thought about calling him, hoping to catch him at home, then given up, not knowing what to say? Dozens.

  This time, though, she forced herself to let the call go through, fighting back a wave of disappointment when she got his answering machine.

  “Hey, this is Jennica.” Her voice sounded high and tight in her ears. “Just wanted to say thanks again for going to the wedding and tell you I’m sorry I went a little overboard.” The machine beeped, and she yanked the phone away from her ear to see that the call had been cut off.

  Or was he there listening and had hung up on her?

  Jennica drummed her fingernails against the counter as her mind went over the possibilities. This was stupid; she’d been on pins and needles for a week—yanking her head up every time the door opened at the store, her heart pounding every time her phone rang—hoping and dreading at the same time that it would be Jack. She had to get things out in the open and at least get back to being friends, if nothing else.

  She pressed the button to call him again, fighting against the image of Jack sitting in his beige kitchen and listening to her messages. Probably rolling his eyes.

  The machine beeped. “Hi, it’s me again,” she said. “I think the machine cut off. Anyway, I hope things are going well and the press is working for you.” She paused, the need to say more hammering in her heart. But what else could she say that wouldn’t make it worse? “Guess that’s it. Bye.”

  She hung up and pursed her lips as she went over the message in her head. A quick thank-you and nothing too personal. Casual. Not a girl calling a guy who had literally made her knees weak for the first time in her life with just a kiss.

  She hit the button to turn off her phone as quickly as if it were on fire and huffed a sigh. This was ridiculous. Why was she getting so worked up over one date and one kiss? It hadn’t even been a real date

  But it had been a real kiss. She’d felt the realness of it from the beginning, the heat and the passion behind Jack’s lips. The fireworks. No one had made him kiss her; he’d done that all on his own, and it had been enough to ignite a yearning in her that refused to die.

  The waiting was the worst part. Would he call back? If he did, what would he say? If he didn’t, what did that say? She couldn’t just sit here wondering. Jennica put her phone in a drawer, grabbed the spray bottle and a rag, and went to clean the already sparkling windows at the front of the store.

  Jennica was at the counter when the door opened, and she did the same thing she’d been doing all week—jerking her head up in a wild hope that it would be Jack.

  And this time, it was.

  Jennica’s hands went clammy and her heart shot to her throat. A whole week of wondering, and then he simply showed up.

  Jack obviously hadn’t shaved since the wedding, and his whiskers were already past the shadow stage and well on their way to becoming a full beard again. His hair was pulled back, and he wore his usual flannel shirt and jeans. As handsome as he’d looked clean shaven and in a suit, Jennica had to admit this look fit him better.

  “Hey,” he said when he reached the counter.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Their eyes met and held, memories of the kiss sizzling between them.

  “I’m sorry I got mad,” Jennica offered.

  The wariness in his eyes give way to relief and Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry I goaded you. That was dumb.”

  Euphoria flooded through her and she took a deep breath. It was going to be okay.

  “I got your message,” he said.

  Her heart hammered. “An answering machine? Really?” she demanded, working to keep things casual. “You really need a cellphone.”

  “Don’t like ’em,” Jack said. “But I thought you’d like to see this.” He pulled a knife from the leather sheath on his belt and laid it on the counter.

  Jennica gasped. It was a gorgeous knife. The handle was blue and the blade was a complicated pattern of lighter and darker metals, welded together and hammered thin. The edge gleamed in the light, deadly sharp. “It’s gorgeous,” she breathed. “Is it Damascus steel?”

  “Yup,” Jack said proudly. “The miracles of what you can do with a press. I never could get this kind of pattern by hand.”

  She pictured him in his shop, his face ruddy from the heat of the forge, eyes narrowed in concentration as he shaped the blade. “I assume that means you got the press working?”

  “I did. And it’s fantastic.” Jack’s face lit with a smile.

  Jennica ran her fingertips over the smooth blue handle. It had taken the dye differently in places, resulting in a complex design of lighter and deeper color, all polished to a high sheen.

  “Hey, Jack.” Colton came out of the back and crossed to the counter. He gave a low whistle when he spotted the knife. “Whatcha got there?”

  Jennica felt a strange pang of reluctance as she passed the knife over for Colton to examine. Almost as if the knife and the press had been something special between just her and Jack, and now she had to open the doors and let other people share it.

  “This is sweet,” Colton said, smoothing a thumb over the patterns in the blade.

  “What are you going to do with it?” Jennica asked Jack.

  “Sell it, hopefully,” he said. “This is a prototype I’m going to show the guys at work—they love to buy knives. And now that I can make Damascus, I’m going to make another pitch to the gift shop at Starlane.”

  Jennica’s mind jumped back to the night she’d run into him, literally, coming out of the store only a few weeks ago. At that moment, she never would have guessed they’d be here. Was he remembering the kiss as vividly as she was?

  “You really need an online store,” she said, working to keep her focus on the knife.


  “Not interested,” Jack replied.

  “I’ll buy it from you,” Colton said. “I’d totally pay big bucks for this.”

  Jennica gazed at the knife. TR Outfitters stocked plenty of knives, but she’d never seen such a beautiful piece, never seen the way the Damascus steel swirled and swooped within the blade. It was magical, like something out of a fantasy story.

  “I’d totally accept a marriage proposal with a knife like this,” she murmured.

  Both men stiffened, giving her just long enough to realize what she’d said.

  “No, I didn’t mean …” A blush washed over her face. “It’s this online thing. Knives instead of engagement rings. I didn’t …”

  Jack nodded shortly and picked up the knife from the counter. “Gotcha. I’d better get going. Just wanted to say thanks and show you what the press can do.”

  “Jack … wait” Jennica pleaded. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  But he was already backing across the store. “It’s fine.” He jerked his head toward his truck, visible through the windows in the parking lot. “I gotta go. Colton, we’ll talk.”

  “Later, man,” Colton said, a puzzled frown between his eyebrows.

  Jack spun on his heel and was out the door before she could say anything else.

  “See, told you he was weird,” Colton declared the moment the door had closed behind Jack. There was a note of triumph in his voice.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Jennica insisted. She clenched her fists. Of all the stupid things to say to compliment his work, her dumb brain had to come up with “marriage proposal.” But Jack was being ridiculous too. Of course she hadn’t meant it literally.

  The engine of Jack’s truck fired up outside the window, and Jennica’s nerves fired right along with it. Before she could think it through, she raced across the store, flung the door open, and hammered on the window of the truck with her fist.

  Jack had been turning to back out of the parking space. When Jennica hit the window, his head whipped around and the initial anger flashing across his face was quickly replaced by confusion. He lowered the window. “What?”

 

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