Saved by the Salsa

by Barbara Barrett

  Now, almost a day later, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He’d stopped at a fast food place and picked up dinner for them, anticipating a full evening comparing notes. “Hi.” Could he sound more like a teenage boy on his first date?

  “Hi, yourself. Come in.”

  “Your text said you’d completed the first draft of the concept piece.” He followed her into her small living room.

  Beaming, she replied, “Once I had that last part, thanks to your mother, it went together like it was always meant to be.”

  He made himself comfortable on the couch, anxious to tell her about his discovery. “Before we get into that, I’ve got to tell you what I found when I went back to the property.”

  “What?”

  “I followed the creek farther into the woods. It branches. More than once, actually. The specs show the main juncture but not the others.”

  “Good news or bad?”

  He leaned back and patted the space next to him in invitation. “Good, I hope. It certainly adds to the site’s attractiveness, and it will allow more homeowners direct access to the water. But the hydraulics will be a little more challenging.”

  She made her way slowly to the couch, but she walked without a limp.

  “You’re doing better.”

  “Can’t run yet, but getting around is easier.”

  He held up the bags. “Hope you don’t mind burgers and fries. I’m a real food junkie when I’m under the gun to produce.”

  They ate while Jack went through the notes he’d taken as he’d traipsed around the property. Engineering experts would plan the actual infrastructure once the client approved the overall concept, but he’d already identified some potential streets and open areas they should consider.

  She set her soft drink on the coffee table and chuckled. “Sounds like you were a lot more serious in your assessment of the site today than the first time you were there.”

  “Place is growing on me. Bull and all, who was nowhere to be seen today.”

  “Too bad,” she joked. “You could’ve made friends with him.”

  He liked the way her blues sparkled when she laughed. If possible, the hue became even bluer. Without realizing he was going to do it, he strummed his fingers across her cheek. When he saw the look of surprise in her eyes, he explained, “Couldn’t resist. You don’t laugh enough.”

  “Chalk it up to the strain of this project. I’m usually pretty carefree.”

  “Carefree? Wouldn’t have pegged you as such. Good to know.”

  “I’ll be all smiles when this project is done and the client raves about it.”

  They finished their burgers, topped off with a bowl of strawberries from Lacey’s fridge, and then set about reviewing and debating the draft document Lacey had prepared the rest of the evening. At first she took notes, but when more of the writing pad started going into confetti she would fling at him every time she disagreed with one of his suggestions, he took over.

  At one point, he didn’t speak or look at her for several minutes. Just kept working on the pad. Apparently unable to hold her curiosity in check no longer, she blurted out, “What are you doing over there? It couldn’t possibly take so much time to write down what I said.”

  He acted as if he hadn’t heard her and went on doodling.

  “Jack!”

  He let his gaze reflect the same pleasure as someone who’d just scratched off a winning combination on a lottery ticket. “That was fun. The first real fun, other than hassling you, I’ve had on this project.”

  “Show me.”

  He covered the pad with his chest. “It’s pretty rough. It may be difficult for you to picture what I have in mind.”

  “Jack Dalton, if you don’t show me this minute—”

  “You’ll what.” He let his expression grow mischievous.

  “I’ll…I’ll call your parents and tell them you’d like to have breakfast with them.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t push me. I’ll hint you need their help picking out a new car.” She jutted out her chin to underline her threat.

  “Lacey!”

  She sat back and relaxed her chin. “Okay, forget it. Shouldn’t jest about your parents. But it was too tempting.”

  At length, he swiveled the pad around so she could see what he’d been up to. “Remember the hill we climbed?”

  She stuck out her injured ankle. “Like I’d forget?”

  “I played with our themes of Purpose and Change. We could leave the parcel of land community-held and for a while, undeveloped. See what happens when our residents decide to give it a purpose.”

  “Uh-huh. I understand what you’re getting at, but if we apply your philosophy to everything, the place will remain amorphous.”

  He snatched the pad away from her and surveyed his drawing again. “This was just an example. A quick shot at testing your theory. Tomorrow I’ll inventory today’s finds and get down to some concrete ideas. I’m burned out tonight.”

  She checked her watch. “I guess so. It’s after ten.”

  “I should be going.” He made it sound like a question. He took her hand, loving the skin so soft and smooth to the touch. Hard to believe those same fingers could hold a drafting pen and create masterpieces as well as stroke him like she had the night before. He leaned in and nuzzled her neck, taking in her wonderful scent once again. “Ummm! Can’t get enough of that smell.” He ran a hand through her golden curls. “I’ve missed you.”

  “We’ve been together all evening.”

  He let his voice grow husky. “You know what I mean.”

  “I wasn’t sure. After last night? We’d no sooner, uh, finished in the car, and you were rushing me home.”

  “Thought I might’ve scared you, making it with you in the car and all.”

  “It was exciting, especially coupled with last week’s tumble in the field. Got an encore in mind?”

  What an invitation. One he couldn’t pass up, especially since his dick was already coming to life just being this near her. Truth be told, this was the real reason he’d come to her place tonight. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  In one swift movement, he picked her up and laid her on the couch, settling in next to her. He crushed his lips to hers while his hands traveled all over her body, enjoying every hill and valley. He marveled how she could be so soft and pliable in some places and taut and firm in others. The woman was definitely fit, but also sexy and voluptuous despite her petite frame. Her willingness to share herself with him made her all the more desirable.

  Like the night before, she kissed back with the same intensity, her hands wandering up and down his back. She broke away long enough to say, “You can’t begin to know what you’re doing to me.”

  He breathed into her hair, “If it’s anything like what I’m feeling, we’re in for quite a night.” He held her even tighter, fanning one hand slowly up and down her back, soaking in the warmth of her even as his own body nearly burst into flames. Lacey clung to him, the gentle undulation of her pelvis willing him to grow bolder, her hands pulling him over her. All he could think of was blanketing the incredible playground waiting to be consumed. But the couch wouldn’t accommodate his frame.

  “Too confining,” she whispered. “Let’s go to my bedroom.”

  Yet another invitation he didn’t have to think twice about. In her bedroom, he placed her gently on the bed, flicking on the radio on her nightstand before joining her. The slow, sensuous strains of a rhumba surrounded them, suggesting he ignore the insistent bulge in his pants and take his time as well. God, he’d give it a try. Last night was for him. Tonight, he was hers. He plucked each of her fingertips, one by one, and softly kissed each, lingering before proceeding to the next. His eyes never left hers.

  “I like this field better. Much more private,” she murmured. “Just you and me.”

  “Not so urgent. More time to explore.” He brought one of the hands he’d been kissing to his lips, letting his warm brea
th play across her knuckles.

  Her moan, a low hum, tantalized whatever self-control still remained. The need to see her, all of her, fought with his resolve to apply the brakes to his need. Didn’t stop him, though, from unbuttoning her shirt, spreading it to cast his eyes on the treasure beneath. Good God, she was delectable, in a sheer black bra leaving little to the imagination when it came to mounded flesh and encased nubbins pleading to escape, his solemn duty to set them free.

  Before he could follow through, though, she reached for his shirt and pulled it from his pants. Mission accomplished. She began undoing his buttons. “Time to show your stuff, buddy.”

  God, she was assertive. Made her all the more desirable, urging him to keep pace. He obliged, removing all her clothes, and then his, within a minute.

  “Oh, my!” she admired. “I didn’t mean for you to take me literally, but since you did, wow!”

  “Wow back at you,” he added as he cupped her breasts. Then the gentle kidding stopped. “You are absolutely perfect,” he uttered, his voice huskier than the moment before. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  ****

  She gasped for breath as Jack’s mouth found a nipple, gently tonguing it. His hand fondled the other breast briefly, then wandered downward, seeming to know exactly where to go, what to touch. His touch was gentle and strong at the same time. Every nerve ending in her body tingled. No, pulsated with unspent energy about to erupt. She writhed in anticipation, willing him to speed up.

  But he took his time, sampling each breast at his leisure, his tongue making wider and wider circles. This man was practiced. All the office scuttlebutt about his sexual prowess had been true. His tongue, fingers and breath alone had her perched on the tip of her own personal volcano.

  She nearly came when he began to suck. The man’s mouth assumed a life of its own, claiming her, leaving her awash with his mark. She arched her back, pushed her chest forward, begging for more sweet agony. The night before had been frantic, animal-like in its urgency. This was…could she even frame a thought to describe it? This was…absolute pleasure realized. Enjoyment beyond belief.

  But he didn’t stop there. Nor did she want him to. He straddled her hips, his magnificent torso towering above her, his engorged manhood ready to take them both even higher in the gratification of their needs.

  Her hands scrubbed his thighs, feeling the power of the taut muscles and prickly growth of hair as they moved upward until his own hands grasped hers and imprisoned them over her head. The maneuver brought his body over hers, his mouth free to roam and play.

  Every inch of her burned and ached from his touch by the time he entered her. Every movement intensified the craving for more. She grabbed fistfuls of the bedding, grasping to hold on, to ride the wave, to experience every heart-pounding moment.

  When they’d both climaxed, he continued to hold her close, whispering gentle nothings in her ear, running his hand through her hair.

  She opened her eyes once to find he, too, had closed his as well. A contented smile had seized his face, and he hummed softly.

  Explosions of emotion tore at her insides. She felt spent and adored and…and…loved? No, she didn’t dare go there. She fell asleep in his arms shortly thereafter still wondering. Hoping.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As Lacey tentatively opened one eye the next morning, a freshly-showered and clothed Jack greeted her with, “Good morning, beautiful. I helped myself to a shower. Hope you don’t mind.” He rubbed his jaw. “Gotta dash back to my place for a shave and clean clothes. Want me to make coffee first?”

  She blinked several times before her eyes stayed open. “How can you be so chipper? We were up half the night.” Even in her semi-stupor, she couldn’t help note how sexy he looked, his face covered with dark stubble, his hair still wet with tiny water droplets.

  “Up, down, in, out,” he leered. “Didn’t know I had it in me, so to speak.”

  “What time is it?” Had she been drinking? She felt totally disoriented. Or something.

  “Six-forty-five. Wednesday. Hump day.” He pronounced those last two words with familiarity. “Was I that good? Made you forget what day it is?’

  “You’re good, Jack. But not that good.” She felt more lethargy than even the sex of the previous night should have produced and she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t sick. She was exhausted without a single bone or muscle in her body aching, except for a hollow feeling around her chest. Then she remembered. “Today would’ve been my mother’s fifty-fifth birthday.”

  His eyes went to hers, as if checking her mood, wondering what to say.

  “Brian still insists on taking flowers to her grave every year on this day so we don’t forget her. With my ankle, I begged off this time, so he went alone Saturday. But—”

  “Now you’re having second thoughts?”

  “It’s not like I have to do this to honor her memory.” Which was true, although she’d told Brian she’d go today. Now, for another reason entirely, one she didn’t want to share with Jack, she reaffirmed her decision.

  “I can work on my own for a bit, if you want to go. Unless you want company?”

  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I should be able to drive now. I won’t be there long.”

  A little more than an hour later, she stood before her mother’s grave. The display of pink roses Brian placed there the weekend before, now turning brown, still rested against the headstone. Should have thought to bring a fresh bouquet.

  “Happy Birthday, Mom. I used you as an excuse to get away from someone. Hope you don’t mind, because I really do need your advice, however you can send it to me.”

  She bent and flicked away a few stray leaves from the grave. Must’ve landed since Saturday. Brian would never have left them behind. “There’s a new man in my life. The sex has been great. I’ve never felt so desirable. Sorry, don’t mean to shock you, just wanted you to know how it started out. I’ve never lacked for men. Just didn’t keep them around long. This one doesn’t seem to mind my no-commitments philosophy, although I’m starting to question it myself.”

  That’s what had been nagging her when she awoke this morning after spending the whole night in bed with Jack. Until she actually spoke the words out loud just now, it had simply been an amorphous uneasiness cheating her of fully enjoying their time together. Now she could put a name to it. Something was happening between them. The idea floored her. Scared her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It couldn’t happen. Not without getting her heart broken again.

  “I don’t know what to do, Mom. My better judgment tells me to end this now, before things get complicated.” A gentle breeze caressed her hair. “Oh, Hell—sorry, Mom—it already is complicated.”

  “Lacey?” a male voice called from several feet away.

  She caught sight of Jack making his way toward her, gingerly sidestepping graves along the way. Pulling up to her, he said, “Wasn’t sure where to find you. I asked Celia for directions.”

  Had he heard her talking? She desperately hoped he hadn’t. It was enough dealing with these feelings by herself. She didn’t need Jack questioning her as well.

  “What are you doing here? Did something come up at the office?”

  “The office? Uh, no. I just didn’t like the way we left things earlier. You looked worried. Thought you might like some company. But if I’m intruding?”

  “You didn’t have to come, but I, uh, appreciate the gesture.” Was his arrival a sign from her mother? Her mother’s way of telling her to share her concerns with Jack.

  He read from the headstone, “Rachel Elizabeth Rogers. Your mother?”

  “Yes. I was fourteen when she passed away. Pancreatic cancer. Her illness made her terribly weak, and in the last few months, filled her with pain. Brian was twenty, a sophomore in college. He transferred to Iowa State to be closer to Mom and me, and once Mom was no longer with us, became my surrogate parent.”

  Jack blew out a breath of air. “No wonder he seems so—”


  “Protective? Stiff? He was already on the path to being, shall we say, conservative, but taking on parental duties, especially with a rebellious teenager, probably pushed him over the line.”

  “Rebellious?”

  “Fourteen-year-olds notoriously question anything their parents say. I was no different, except how was I supposed to challenge someone who could barely sit up? So I took out my frustrations on Brian. He got me through some pretty grim times.”

  Good start to what she wanted to tell him. The rest wouldn’t be as easy. She focused on a nearby monument, not daring face him directly. “Clinically, my mom died from the cancer, but I really suspect it was a broken heart that made her susceptible to the disease, because my father deserted us when I was six. I blamed myself. Thought I’d done something bad to make him go.”

  “You never saw him again?”

  “Not in person. But a few years ago we learned of his death. Apparently he’d left us after he’d been exposed to radiation poisoning, deciding it would be better for all three of us if we thought he’d deserted us rather than watched him deteriorate with the disease. He’d changed his name and gone to stay with some monks the rest of his life, which ironically, lasted longer than my mother’s.”

  Jack placed a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Lacey. I had no idea you’d gone through so much tragedy.”

  “His grave is on the other side of Mom’s. We figured she would have wanted him there, even though we didn’t.”

  He glanced briefly at her father’s grave. “Sounds like your mom never gave up on him. You did the right thing, placing him there.”

  And therein lay the rub. “Let’s walk. There’s something more I need to tell you.”

  He returned a quizzical expression but stuck his hand under her elbow and helped her negotiate the path.

  She dove in immediately, before she lost her nerve. “I don’t trust my feelings where you’re concerned, Jack. I’m all for having a good time, but my instincts are telling me whatever this is between us could go deeper. At least for me, which would not be a good idea”