And then Daisy surprised him again. She grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head. After dropping the tank to the floor, she reached out and unsnapped his jeans.
“Daisy...”
“Don’t talk,” she said. “If you talk I might change my mind, and I don’t want to change my mind.”
He remained silent.
“Just this once,” she said softly, not looking him in the eye. “I don’t love you anymore, so don’t go thinking this is anything more than it is, but we didn’t end things between us properly. We never did really end us at all.” She unzipped him, reached her hand inside his jeans, moved in close again. For a long, wonderful moment, he held his breath and allowed himself to just feel. “So we’re going to get this out of our systems tonight. We’re going to make love and say goodbye, and then we’re both going to move on.”
He would’ve agreed to chop off his right hand at the moment, if she’d just keep going, so he didn’t argue.
“We were good in bed, Jacob,” she whispered, her breath warm on his skin. “Maybe we screwed up everything else, maybe life screwed it up for us, but...we did this right.”
He whipped off his shirt, as she had, and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. One condom wouldn’t be enough, but it would have to do.
She wasn’t wrong; they had done this right.
“You can speak, now,” she said.
“Have I told you that you’re more beautiful than ever?” he asked as he backed her toward the hallway.
“No.” She smiled.
“It’s true.”
“You only say that because I’m mostly naked.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re not looking so bad yourself,” she said, walking backward very slowly, reaching up to brush her fingers against his upper arm, then his chest. “I’m glad you don’t wax your chest. A little chest hair is a good thing on a grown man. You only had the one, when I last saw you without a shirt.”
“You’ve been worrying about my chest hair?”
“Maybe just a little.” She smiled, but then her expression changed, shifted slightly and he could see a concern there. Where had her mind taken her?
“No more talking,” he said as they arrived at her bedroom door. She opened the door on the small bedroom, the same one she’d slept in as a child.
She sighed in relief as she backed toward the double bed. “Fine by me. Talking was never our strong suit.”
* * *
For a moment, an unpleasant split second, Daisy had imagined what Jacob’s life in San Francisco was really like. It wasn’t a thought she’d wanted, wasn’t one she’d reached for. But like it or not, she’d found herself wondering if he seduced other women with ice cream, if those other women seduced him with a kiss, if they touched his biceps and his chest—where thankfully a decent but not overwhelming dusting of chest hair grew—as he walked them to a bed to make love. She’d wondered if he looked at them this way, visibly on the edge of losing control, his dark eyes narrowing and going darker, his focus on her and her alone. When he looked at her like this she felt like she was the only woman in the world. Did he make other women feel the same way?
Then she let the unpleasant thought drift away. She forced it to disappear, she let it go. None of that mattered; nothing mattered but right now. One night, one last hurrah, and then she could truly let him go.
And she’d only lied to him once, when she’d told him that she didn’t love him anymore.
By the side of the bed, illuminated by what was left of the day’s light streaming through the blinds, he finished undressing her, unfastening her bra and dropping it to the floor, pushing her shorts and panties down and off. He was anxious, but didn’t rush. Ready, but not out of control. Naked, Daisy slipped her hands into his jeans again, this time shucking them—along with a pair of dark green good-heavens-was-that-silk boxers—down and off.
And there they stood with nothing between them but whatever lingering doubts might remain. Daisy had none. Did Jacob?
She was so ready, one touch and she’d be done. It had been so long, too long, and she already throbbed in places that she’d forgotten could respond this way. Jacob tossed his condom to the bedside table and laid her down on the bed. They kissed, easy and deep. It reminded her that until Jacob had come back to town she hadn’t been kissed in a very long time. No one had ever kissed her like this, no one but Jacob. Was a kiss more intimate and important than sex? Was it the true moment of soul connection? It seemed that way, as their mouths came together and incredible sensations danced through her body.
She loved the feel of his skin against hers, loved the heat of his body enveloping her. Her body swayed up and into his, slid down as she attempted to bring them closer together. She was ready; she wanted him now.
But he was stubborn, moving just out of reach, making this moment last.
He gently spread her legs with his knee, lifted up and looked at her—his eyes holding hers for a long, powerful moment—and then he slid down and dipped his head between her thighs. Her heart thudded, and she grasped the sheet as he lightly flicked his tongue against her where she throbbed for him. One flick and then another, and then he moved away. It was maddening, and then he intensified his efforts and she crested hard and fast, with a jerk of her body and a cry of release and relief.
That done, he crept up over her body. “If I just have this one night with you, do you really think I’ll make it fast?”
No, no, not fast, please. Slow. Easy. Stay a while. But she was breathless, unable to speak coherently. So she said nothing. She didn’t need to say anything as Jacob kissed his way up her body. Slowly and well. She melted into the mattress, satisfied—for the moment—and languid. Happy to have Jacob with her, thrilled to have this fantasy come true. Maybe it wouldn’t last, maybe it wasn’t the way it had once been, but this was fine on its own.
More than fine. She felt alive, cherished, a part of something greater than herself. She felt like a woman.
Jacob had developed some serious and impressive control in the past seven years. For a split second she allowed herself to think about how and why he’d developed that control, but she let that go, as she’d let so many other thoughts go. Sex had always been fast and furious in the old days. This was different. Jacob took his time arousing her all over again, kissing, touching. Maybe his control wasn’t perfect, though, maybe it wasn’t as infallible as he’d like for her to believe. He was hard and ready and hot. When she touched him, when she attempted to wrap her fingers around him, he always gently but insistently moved her hand away.
The faint light that had been streaming through the window when they’d entered the room soon faded entirely. She could no longer see Jacob well. She couldn’t see his face, or the way his hands looked against her skin. And still he played with her. No, not with her. He played her like she was his guitar and he was a talented musician, and she gave herself over to him.
And then he was inside her. Finally. Perfectly. Daisy closed her eyes and let her body take over. They found a rhythm that was slow and easy, at first. It was nice, it was perfection. She had the brief thought that she could do this all night, happily giving herself over to the amazing connection of body to body, to the gentle movements that were so right.
All night? No. Her need and his grew, their rhythm changed, became more frantic, and she found herself gasping as he drove deep one last time and they both shattered. She clung to him, crying out softly, holding on for dear life as her body shook. I love you flitted through her brain and almost escaped, but she stopped the words from flowing out in the heat of the moment.
“You’re amazing,” Jacob whispered. “And to think, I came over here to volunteer to be your critter man.”
“You would make a lousy critter man,” she responded in a whisper, surprised she had the strength to speak at all.
Jacob raised up, propped his head in one hand and looked down at her. She could barely see his face, and she wanted to se
e that face while she could.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
She smiled. “How do I count the ways? First of all, your suit would get dirty when you climbed into the attic. I suspect you have no squirrel traps or bait in your fancy rental car, and what on earth would you do if you came face-to-face with a squirrel or a raccoon or a possum? They don’t negotiate.”
“Do you think that’s all I can do? Negotiate?”
“Analyze and negotiate. You’ve been doing it since you were twelve.” She ran her hands down his side, reveling in the shape of him, his heat and flesh. “Of course, you do seem to have developed some skills you couldn’t have dreamed of at twelve.”
He leaned over her, and she could not miss the hope in his voice as he asked, “Are you reconsidering your one night only stipulation?”
Daisy turned her face away, dipped her chin even though she knew he could see her no more clearly than she could see him. “No.”
* * *
Get it out of our systems my ass. It was the middle of the night when Jacob woke. Daisy slept on beside him, out like a light. Naked. Rumpled and flushed and gorgeous. If he stayed in her bed he’d end up making love to her again, and without a condom. That was a chance they couldn’t take. What kind of a jerk would he be if he came home, knocked her up and then left again?
So he grabbed his clothes and made his way out of her bedroom, being very quiet, though he didn’t think Daisy would wake even if he slammed the door.
There was a night-light in the hall, giving off just enough light to illuminate the space so he didn’t run into anything. Feeling like a thief, as if he were intruding, he crept down the hall to open the door on the master suite. It was just as it had been the last time he’d seen it. Same king-size bed, same blue and white striped bedspread. It had been seven years, and Daisy had changed nothing. This was her home, now, she lived here alone, and yet she hadn’t moved into the master bedroom and made it her own.
If she hadn’t done it yet she never would, and he was washed in a wave of sadness. What if she wasn’t happy here, the way he’d thought? What if she was simply stuck?
He used the hallway bathroom, dressed and made his way to the living room. There on the coffee table, melted ice cream and pink strawberry topping leaked out of a white paper bag. Since there was no way he could sleep, Jacob cleaned up the mess, tossing the melted sundaes in the kitchen trash and wiping down the coffee table with a damp cloth. That done he placed the dishes he’d returned to her—his excuse for coming to her door—on the kitchen table. He had no idea where they should be stored, so that would have to do. All the while he tried to be quiet even though he was pretty sure nothing would wake Daisy.
As he puttered around the house, he thought about his decision to court Daisy. Courting was an old-fashioned term, but it was appropriate. And here he was, still smelling her, still feeling her. They hadn’t had the first real date, and he hadn’t brought her flowers or candy. The sundaes...well, they’d never gotten to the sundaes, so that didn’t count. Where did they go from here?
Since she’d declared this was a onetime deal, maybe nothing had changed. He could still attempt to court her. Would she be receptive or would she kick him to the curb? Would she think the only reason he pursued her was that they’d slept together once and he was trying to get her into bed again? Not that he’d mind sleeping with her again, but he wanted more. He wanted everything. How could he convince her that a one-night stand wasn’t enough?
That thought stopped him in his tracks. If a one-night stand wasn’t enough, then a two-week affair wouldn’t be enough, either. Not for him, hopefully not for her. If he still intended to court Daisy, to woo her, to win back her heart...what would happen after his time in Bell Grove was done?
When it came to business, he could analyze and plot and graph a problem into submission, but when it came to planning his personal life he felt woefully inadequate. And really, what personal life? Since he’d moved away from Bell Grove his life had consisted almost entirely of work and work-related events. It had taken seeing Daisy again to make him realize what he’d lost.
He’d be doing her a favor if he walked away and didn’t look back. He wasn’t here to mess up her neat, tidy life, hadn’t intended to start something he couldn’t finish.
Jacob collected his wallet and his keys and headed for the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he stopped. If he left, what would Daisy think when she woke alone? If he stayed, how could he not make love to her again? He stood in the dark, undecided. For a moment he noted the complete stillness. San Francisco was never still. All night long he heard traffic, sirens and people in the hallway outside his condo. In Bell Grove life didn’t stop after dark, but it did grow still. He’d missed that stillness and hadn’t even realized it.
He needed to go, to get out of here while he could. And yet his hand remained on the unturned doorknob. He made important decisions every day, but since he’d come home the decisions he’d been forced to make were different. This wasn’t business, it was life. A life he’d ignored, a life he’d put on hold.
His grandmother, his parents, Daisy... Was this a temporary aberration or had his life just taken a sharp turn?
Chapter Eight
Daisy woke with the sun that cut through the miniblinds shining in her eyes. She blinked hard, rolled over to escape the annoying light, pulled the covers over her head and took a minute to remember what day it was.
Monday, her day off. She sighed, closed her eyes tight and settled into the mattress, still half-asleep and hoping to drift off again. Hadn’t she been having lovely dreams?
Jacob hadn’t been a dream. He’d been here. He’d been hers again, for a while. Since she had the bed to herself, she could only assume that he’d left in the night, while she’d been sleeping. Just as well. Given the situation, the morning after might be awkward.
Reality intruded and she couldn’t go back to sleep. She didn’t have to get up and go to work, but the critter man was coming to check out the attic. As if on cue, one of the cursed critters ran across the attic floor above her head.
Who cared about squirrels? She was still naked, a little sore and supremely satisfied to the marrow of her bones.
Jacob. She shouldn’t give him another thought, but how could she not? Last night had been even better than she’d imagined it could be. Daisy opened her eyes slowly, threw back the covers and reached one curious arm out to sweep the other side of the bed. It was cold and empty. There wasn’t even much of an impression on the pillow next to hers. He’d left a long time ago.
Well, what had she expected? She’d told him sex was a onetime deal, one last hurrah. Why would he stick around?
She rolled out of bed, checked out the clock and groaned. Sammy would be here in less than an hour, so she needed to shower and grab a bite to eat. Clothes would be nice. Daisy grabbed a robe from the closet on her way to the bathroom across the hall. She took a quick shower, pulled on the robe again and headed for the kitchen.
At the end of the hallway, she stopped. A right turn would take her to the kitchen, and that was the plan. But she glanced to the left, and there he was; Jacob, asleep on the couch. Dressed, his too-long body twisted to fit the too-short couch, sound asleep.
Daisy smiled. Relief washed through her, as real and tangible as the water that had washed across her skin moments earlier. Jacob hadn’t left. He should have...she told herself she would have if they’d been at his place...but he was here. He’d stayed.
Why had she ever thought having sex with Jacob would make it easier to let him go?
Since he was sleeping, she allowed herself to just watch him for a few minutes. It wasn’t like this was a chance she’d ever have again. Asleep he looked more like the man...boy...she remembered. In sleep he lost the facade he’d built around himself. That’s what the suits were, she decided, a part of the facade that he’d built to keep others at a distance, to remind everyone, including himself, that he didn’t belong here anymore.
But lately he’d been dressing more casually, relaxing, and last night there had been no distance—and no clothing—between them. None at all.
For a moment, a few seconds maybe, Daisy allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to throw everything away and leave Bell Grove to be with Jacob. She loved her home, her business, her friends, but had she mistaken serenity and a feeling of home for being stuck in a rut? Could she walk away from everything she had, could she leave her life behind? Not that he was going to ask her to do that, but if he did...
She no longer had her sisters to raise, that was true, but nothing else had changed. Her home was here; she belonged here. In California she’d be too far away from Lily and Mari, and dammit, even if they were grown they still needed her. And she needed them. She couldn’t even imagine herself there, a small-town girl in a big city. And she couldn’t imagine Jacob moving back here, leaving his job behind to work with his mother and Ben in the family business. If he’d been interested in that he would’ve done it years ago. No, Jacob would go back to work and she’d do...what? She doubted Bell’s Beauty Shop and Small Engine Repair would successfully relocate to San Francisco. She found herself both excited and terrified by the very thought.
Not that Jacob would ask her...
Not that she’d go...
As she walked into the kitchen to start the coffee, she knew she should be sorry about last night.
But she wasn’t.
She should kick herself for being weak, for giving in, for taking what she’d wanted from—no, with—a man she still loved.
But she didn’t kick herself. With a smile on her face she started preparing breakfast, wondering if Jacob was as ravenously hungry as she was.
* * *
Jacob woke to the smell of bacon and coffee. He was twisted into an unnatural position and his back hurt—damn couch—but he wasn’t sorry he’d spent the night here. It would’ve been wrong to sleep with Daisy and then creep out of her house like a thief.
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