She needed to protect herself. There was a very real possibility of getting hurt again. Thinking about how much her breakup with Thad had affected her was one thing. With Jack, she already felt more for him than she had for her ex-fiancé. She didn’t even want to imagine the pain of actually watching him walk away. So she definitely needed to guard her heart.
But at the moment, she was too tired to fight it. When Jack rolled over, propping himself so he could gaze down at her, she didn’t move.
Usually the passion was so explosive between them. When he leaned over and softly pressed a kiss to one of her eyelids, then the other, then the tip of her nose, and finally to her lips, she realized tonight was going to be different.
He kissed her for a long time, moving his lips warmly and gently over hers. She reached up to cup the back of his head. He deepened the kiss and she sighed, welcoming him in.
Moving his lips to her jawline, he showered her with soft, gentle kisses. He ran his lips down her neck, stopping only to nip her earlobe.
His every movement was relaxing her beyond anything she’d ever felt before. Her limbs were starting to feel heavy, even as her heartbeat began racing.
Jack was running his lips, his tongue, his teeth, along her collarbone and following the neckline of her blouse. When she made to move, Jack reared back and shook his head.
“No?” she asked, surprised.
“Tonight is all about you. It’s for you.”
Her heart soared. His face was so serious and his eyes full of hazy lust. Maybe this really could be something. Whatever this thing was between them. This thing that had begun as a bargain to help each other out. This thing that had clearly taken on a life of its own.
She’d done her very best to live up to what she thought he wanted tonight, at the bar. And now he was rewarding her. Did that mean he’d stay in town?
Because if their relationship really only was a bargain, half of it was over. After her parents’ anniversary party, they wouldn’t have any reason to stay together.
Then Jack was removing her blouse, and any deep thinking ceased. With her shirt off and thrown to the floor, he ran his hands up and down her sides. A small giggle escaped her lips when he brushed over her ticklish spot. He grinned before leaning down and licking that very spot. Emerson sucked in a breath.
His clever mouth was warming every inch of her body. She wasn’t even self-conscious about her bra. She always wore a more-supportive and less-sexy bra when she was working. But Jack didn’t seem to notice or care. He simply unhooked it and immediately covered one nipple with his warm mouth and sucked gently. She reached for him and held him tightly.
He was showering her with attention and, dare she think it, love? Not one area of her body was neglected as he pulled her pants and black satin panties down her legs. His hands, his mouth and his tongue explored every bit of her.
When he moved to the end of the bed and reached for her foot, she opened her eyes and realized he was still fully clothed, while she was naked and bare before him. Normally she would feel self-conscious, but she didn’t with Jack. It was as simple as that. When she was with him, she was completely and irrevocably herself.
He sucked her big toe into his mouth and she squirmed.
“Jack, my feet are horrible.” She desperately needed a pedicure, and her feet were completely gross after the long winter. Not to mention standing on them all day long.
He tilted his head and studied her. “Your feet are beautiful, just like the rest of your body.”
To prove it, he dragged a lazy hand up from her foot, over her calf and thigh, her stomach, her breasts, until he reached her head. He cupped it as he lay on top of her. Then he kissed her so deeply and so very passionately. She was being pulled under big-time, and she was sure she’d never be able to find her way back up to the surface again.
That might just be okay. Did she really need to return to reality when it felt this good to be with him?
Finally, he ended the kiss and stood. Seemingly in no hurry, he took her in. His eyes traveled over every inch of her, from her aching toes to the top of her head. Then back down again. A slow, sexy smile spread across his face.
“What’s that for?”
“You have no idea what it’s doing to me to see you like that.”
She snorted. “What? Lying here like a big old lump?”
He licked his lips and his eyes narrowed in on her. It was as if he were the hungriest man on the planet and she was a big, juicy steak. He looked like he was about to salivate.
“You haven’t had your fill yet?” she asked.
“Sweetheart, with you, I don’t think I’ll ever have enough.”
Her heart flipped over. She gulped.
“Then why don’t you get over here and start making a dent in that appetite.”
He grinned. Then he shed his clothes and opened the drawer of the nightstand on the side of the bed. She knew that’s where he kept his protection.
After he returned to her, he hovered over her, stroking her cheek with one of his fingers. Then he kissed her again, slowly, deeply. His hands roamed over her skin again, caressing her breasts, teasing her, setting her insides on fire. But he never stopped kissing her.
“Jack,” she murmured against his lips.
“Mmm?”
She nipped at his bottom lip. “I want you.”
He pushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Now?”
“Please.”
He framed her face in his hands and kissed her one more time. Then he pushed inside her. They both moaned. The pleasure was absolutely exquisite.
They moved together, completely in concert. They’d been together enough times now for their bodies to understand each other.
Jack reached for her hands and brought them to the pillow, next to her ears. They clasped fingers. Their eyes locked on to each other.
They were joined in every way possible. Their bodies, their eyes, their hands. Their hearts?
It was the most sensual moment of her life. She held on tightly as Jack’s movements became faster and harder. As she went right over the edge, with him following right behind.
And then they collapsed into each other, completely sated, as the rain continued to fall.
* * *
The rain had picked up. It was drumming a fast tat, tat, tat against the roof of the house. The wind was roaring through the trees, and a loose branch was scratching the window.
She and Jack were lying in bed, tangled up in the sheets and each other’s limbs as they listened to the sounds of the storm. Cosmo had found his way upstairs and made himself at home at the bottom of the bed. He was curled up in a little ball, seemingly fast asleep. But every once in a while, he would perk up, lick one of their toes and then return to his slumber.
Emerson still felt exhausted, only she now also felt rejuvenated, energized, sated. It was a strange sensation.
“Two weeks ago, we did this for the first time,” Jack said.
It was a rare moment of reflection for him. She ran a hand over his bare chest.
“I made love to you under the stars. I felt bad that we were on the hard, cold ground.”
“I liked being outside.” She had. She remembered thinking that they couldn’t possibly do that outside. But then they had, and she’d felt empowered. She’d also felt sexy as hell.
“We could go in the backyard now, if you want,” he said with a wry smile.
“Nah. It’s raining.”
“I thought rain was romantic.”
“It is. But it can be from inside, as well.” She shifted her body against a certain part of his as a reminder of just how sexy rain could be.
He grinned and nuzzled her neck. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Funny, but I am feeling quite reenergized. Although, some water would be great.” She mad
e to move but he stopped her by pushing her back against the pillows. He tucked the blankets around her and kissed her forehead.
“I got it. Be right back.”
She watched him rise, in all of his naked glory. She would never tire of looking at this man’s naked body. Sadly, he pulled on his boxer briefs before leaving the room.
Cosmo let out a little harrumph at the disturbance. Then he made his way up the bed and made himself comfortable in a ball on Jack’s pillow. Emerson laughed and ran a hand over his soft fur.
Jack returned a few minutes later with two glasses of water. She sat up in bed and drank almost the entire glass. Cosmo lifted his head with mild interest and took in the scene. Then he rose, circled around a couple of times before returning to his cute little ball position.
“Seriously, dog? On my pillow?”
“I think it’s a sign of love,” Emerson suggested with a laugh.
“When you’re not here, he lays on your pillow.”
Her pillow. How domestic. A little thrill ran through her.
Jack climbed back into bed and sat up against a mound of pillows. He gathered Cosmo up and nestled him on his stomach. She placed her glass on the nightstand and curled up next to him, laying her head on his chest. His fingers ran lazy circles over her back, and her eyes began to close.
Suddenly, Jack said, “I think my dad would have liked the party tonight.”
Her eyes flew open. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Luckily, she didn’t have to.
“He really liked when the bar was full. He enjoyed people having fun, laughing, relaxing. The more bodies that crammed into The Wright Drink, the bigger his smile got.”
“Then I’m sure he would have been entertained by tonight. All that dancing and karaoke.”
He chuckled. “I’ll never hear ‘Baby Got Back’ quite the same way again.”
Emerson bit her lip as she contemplated asking him a question. But it was something that she’d been wondering about since she had met him. “Jack, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“The way you talk about your dad... Did you not get along?” She twisted her head so she could see his face, his reaction.
He shrugged and readjusted, sitting back against the headboard. “We did. But he got along with the bar more.”
“Must have been tough on both of you,” she said, more to herself than him. “By nature, a bar is open on weekends and at night. That must have been hard on him.”
“Before my mom passed away, we would actually go have dinner at the bar most nights. This guy, Larry, was the cook then. He would always make sure to have kid-friendly options for me. Grilled cheese sandwiches, chicken nuggets—that kind of stuff.”
He was relaxing. He was opening up. Emerson wanted to punch a fist in the air in triumph, but she also wanted to hear his memories. Understand him better. So she didn’t move, except to pet the dog. Only listened.
“My mom insisted I get vegetables too. So Larry would always include carrots or asparagus.” He rolled his eyes but was still smiling. “There was always a salad waiting for my mom. My dad used to say that she was half rabbit because she ate so much salad.
“Dad bought the pinball machine, the Pac-Man game and the air-hockey table for me. Someone was always willing to take me on. Thought they could win over a kid.” His eyes were practically sparkling with what were clearly happy memories. “But I was good.”
“Oh really?”
“Well, I was there every day. I was a little swindler really.”
“Sounds like a fun way to grow up.”
“It was. At least it was interesting.”
She reached for his hand and was happy when he let her take it. He began running his thumb over her skin, and the small gesture sent shockwaves through her body.
“I can’t tell you how many times my mom would end up behind the bar, helping out. Then someone would play a slow song on the jukebox. My dad would scoop her up in his arms and they would dance together.”
“That sounds so sweet.”
He nodded. “Even the people waiting for their drinks or food didn’t seem to mind. They would just watch my parents dance together behind the bar.”
His fingers tightened around hers.
“Then one day I came home from school, and both of my parents were waiting for me in the living room. My mom had been to the doctor. She had an aggressive form of cancer.”
Emerson swallowed a large gulp on a very dry throat.
“She died only two months later.”
She wanted to say something. Anything that would bring him some comfort. But what could you say to someone who lost a parent at such an impressionable age?
“After that, my dad was always at the bar. The house was empty, cold. Lonely. Things changed.”
Emerson stifled a sigh. It sounded like his dad had probably spent the same amount of time at the bar after his mother’s death as he had before. Only, without his mother around, his perspective shifted and everything felt different.
“I stopped dropping by the bar,” Jack continued. “At first, I had no way to get there. I couldn’t drive yet,” he explained. “Then I was pretty active in high school. Baseball, girls...” He offered a grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I wanted to talk to my dad about my mom. I missed her,” he said softly.
Emerson shifted slightly. “He didn’t talk about her?”
Jack shook his head. “Never. To be honest, he barely spoke to me about anything after her death. He would make sure I had done my homework. He would always ask if I ate. Tell me to clean up my room. The essential stuff. But we never had a long conversation again. Even later in life, speaking over the phone was like pulling teeth.”
No wonder he hadn’t wanted to return home.
“I wanted to talk about her,” he repeated.
Emerson’s heart clenched at the raw desperation in his voice.
“Needed to talk about her. I would come home from school to an empty house. My dad was already at the bar. Her perfume lingered in the house. Her clothes were in the laundry room for I don’t know how long. And I just wanted to talk about her and remember everything.”
Emerson gulped. “Did your mom work?”
“Yeah, she was a teacher in the local elementary school.”
His dad had to make up for an extra income. They went from being a two-income household to one.
So, there was a father and son, both grieving the loss of a very special woman, while they went on with life. Lives that would never be the same again.
A realization struck Emerson at that point. Jack wasn’t considering leaving Virginia because of his father. He was running away from his mother. From her memory and from the pain that memory brought forth.
She closed her eyes as the thought washed over her. Jack was still grieving for the mom he’d lost way too young. He’d probably never really allowed himself to say goodbye. Because his dad had seemed to shut down after his wife’s death, Jack had never gotten the closure he needed. That’s why he ran from place to place. That’s the reason he didn’t settle somewhere and put down roots.
That was probably why he wouldn’t stay now.
She wanted him to stay because she loved him. But he was going to leave because he couldn’t bring himself to stay in a place where the memory of his mother would haunt him.
How could she ever ask him to?
Chapter Twelve
Even though they were right on time for her parents’ anniversary party, Emerson and Jack had to circle the block a couple of times before they found a parking space. It seemed like everyone in Northern Virginia had come out to help the Dewitts celebrate.
Thirty years of marriage.
Despite any hard feelings with her mother, she couldn’t help but be happy for them. Getting to the pea
rl anniversary was no easy feat.
Sometimes it seemed like Beatrice and Walter were so very different. Her dad was so much more laid-back than her mom. He would be content to live in a one-bedroom cabin on a lake, fishing, reading mystery novels and watching World War II documentaries, while her mom delighted in things like flower arrangements, china patterns and hosting tea parties.
Yet they were one unit. A strongly bonded couple that had raised two daughters, while starting their own businesses.
“What are you thinking?”
She glanced at Jack as they walked from their parking space at the end of the street. He looked so handsome tonight in a black suit and silver tie. He’d left his stubble though, and the contrast with the suit was absolutely mouthwatering.
“About my parents.”
“Thirty years is amazing,” he replied. “You know what else is amazing?”
She stopped and waited for his reply.
“You in that dress.”
She felt a grin spread across her face.
Her mother had strongly suggested she wear a tasteful black dress to the event tonight. Being the good daughter she was, Emerson had complied. But with Jack’s idea to make it her own. She was wearing a midi-length black dress with a conservative neckline that was classic and sophisticated. From the front. When she turned around, the big reveal was a low cut back. For an extra splash of whimsy, she’d pinned a bejeweled turquoise flower in her curls.
Tasteful black, without losing herself.
“I feel good.” She didn’t know where the statement came from. But it was true. She did feel good. Strong. Like herself. When was the last time she could claim that?
Tonight, she felt strong and confident. Even though her mother was sure to dislike her outfit choice, and everyone inside the party would no doubt fawn all over her sister, Emerson didn’t care.
She had a growing business that she’d started all on her own. She adored her friends. Over the last couple of weeks, she’d had a strong, handsome, fun, interesting man by her side. It may have started off as a pretend relationship, but she knew that was no longer the case. Her feelings wouldn’t lie. Her heart couldn’t lie. And the way Jack held her in his arms definitely wasn’t a lie.
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