by Arianna Hart
“Oh, I think that it is. I may not know when you had sex last, but I can assure you, you will be having sex again in the near future.”
“Of all the nerve! Do you really think that this caveman routine is attractive? ‘Gee, being grilled on my love life just makes me want to jump your bones.’ Are you insane? What I do, and whom I do it with are none of your business.”
“Well, I’m making it my business. Now tell me! When was the last time you slept with a man?”
“I’m not telling you anything!” Macayla declared, and started to storm out of the room. She got no more than two steps away when Jared grabbed her arm and pulled her back with a strength that belied his injury.
“Tell me,” Jared demanded.
Macayla looked into Jared’s face and knew he wasn’t going to let this go. She debated with herself before finally giving in. “Eight years ago,” she said in defeat.
“I knew it. You are letting that bastard control you even now.”
“No, I’m not. You sound like my therapist. She said I’d only be truly over him when I could enjoy a sexual relationship between equals. I have been a little too busy to cater to my social life, and to be honest with you, there just aren’t all that many men out there that I even want to get to know well enough to sleep with.”
“Well, whatever your criteria is, you will have to make some adjustments because I mean to be the next person you sleep with, so deal with it!” Jared let her go and stormed out of the room, slamming the door to the porch so hard dust fell off the ceiling fan.
Macayla couldn’t believe the nerve of that man. If she wanted to sleep with someone, when she wanted to sleep with someone, she would. No one was going to make her decisions for her. She didn’t care if she never slept with anyone again, or
if she slept with the next man she saw. It was her decision.
Who was she kidding?
She wanted to sleep with Jared. Sometimes she wanted it so badly she dreamed about it. She really had to stop the knee-jerk response she had when someone told her what to do. Yes, she wanted to sleep with Jared, but she would do it on her own terms. She would not be rushed into something just because her hormones were out of control. She wanted at least another week to make sure the pill was in full effect before she even considered getting intimate with Jared.
Well, more intimate. She had met him over a year ago, but this week was the first time she had spent more than a handful of days with him. She was cautious by nature; she had already done more with him sexually than she had done with anyone since Joe. She didn’t sleep with Joe until she had known him a year, and even then what good had all that knowledge done her? She had been so quick to judge others when they jumped into bed with men, then complained when the glow wore off that the guy wasn’t what he had seemed. Well duh, how could you know if you only just met him? No one shows his true self in the beginning of a relationship.
She always thought it prudent to get to know someone, warts and all, before sleeping with them. Joe was able to hide his true self from her because she was young and stupid; she wasn’t going to let that happen again. She had never understood how someone could just go to bed with someone on the first date. She was beginning to see how easy it really was. If she had never met Joe, and had normal relationships like most other girls her age, maybe by the time she met Jared she wouldn’t have hesitated at all to hop into bed with him. Lord knew she wanted to.
Macayla was still doing some serious thinking when her stomach grumbled. She had forgotten all about the stew she had simmering on the stove. Deciding that her problems wouldn’t go anywhere if she left them for a little while, she went into the kitchen to spoon up some of the soup. She was trying to decide if she should get Jared from out on the porch and give him something to eat, or just leave the pot on when he walked into the kitchen.
“Macayla?”
“Oh good, you’re here. I made some stew, well, opened some stew before I left. Do you want some now?” Macayla asked not meeting his eyes.
“That would be great, but first I’d like to apologize. I was way out of line. My mom had a boyfriend that knocked her around. She left him after a few months, but I couldn’t stand watching it. I have always hated to see men abuse women. I don’t understand why women stay in that situation, and I just get crazy when I think about someone hurting you. When you told me your story, I got so mad that you blamed yourself for everything. I wish I could have been there for you when you were going through all of that on your own. I wish I could have been there to cheer for you when you graduated, to help you when your mom died, to be there for you when you needed a shoulder to cry on. I’d like to kill that rat bastard because he was there and didn’t do any of those things. I know I am not good with words; it is sometimes hard for me to get across what I mean. I never meant to sound like a Neanderthal. Of course you have the final say as to whom you sleep with. I would never do anything to hurt you or manipulate you, but I have to tell you, I really want to be the one you choose to sleep with.”
“When I make up my mind, you’ll be the first to know. Now, do you want a sandwich to go with this stew?” Macayla needed some time to process what Jared said. She couldn’t believe the look on his face. She would never have believed someone could look both strong and tender at the same time.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning Macayla deemed Jared’s injury healed enough to remove the staples.
“Don’t be such a baby,” Macayla admonished when he flinched at the sight of the staple puller. It was more of a tweezer than a puller; it squeezed the staple in the middle, and the staple popped easily out of the skin. The nerves around the area weren’t fully healed, so there was almost no pain involved.
“That’s it?” Jared questioned when Macayla dropped the last staple onto the tray next to her.
“I’m going to put some steri-strips over the incision site to make sure it stays closed for another week, but take a look. All pink, healthy skin, with only the possibility of a slight scar, not too bad a job if I do say so myself.”
“And these little pieces of tape will keep my insides in?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem, these are just to make sure the wound is completely healed. I’ve already sutured your insides, these are just for the skin. The stripes will start falling off in about a week or so. In the mean time, you can start building up your level of activity. This does not mean I want you to be downstairs lifting weights, but it does mean we can take longer walks, you can start riding the stationary bike, you can do your own laundry.”
“I knew that was going to come in somewhere.”
“All in the name of recovery.” Macayla smiled again. She was in uncommonly good spirits for someone who hadn’t slept much the night before. She hadn’t slept well with Jared in the room with her. It wasn’t that he snored, or was a loud sleeper; it was just that he was so male.
He had left the bathroom door slightly ajar when he went to brush his teeth and change for the night. Macayla had gotten a nice long look at his naked torso while pretending to be sleeping. The sight had sent her pulse soaring, and her imagination went along for the ride. She could see herself running her hands along his ribs, over his back, through the hair on his chest. She had fantasies of doing the same thing with her mouth for hours on end.
With thoughts like that on her mind, it was no wonder that she had painfully erotic dreams about rolling around naked with Jared on the big master bed across the hall. She had woken up unfulfilled, aching, and wanting.
“Hey! Where are you?” Jared waved a hand in front of her face, pulling her from her erotic thoughts.
“Sorry, just thinking about a weird dream I had last night. Why don’t you take a walk and test out those new muscles. I’m going to go work out some more.”
“Okay, I’m outta here!”
Macayla waited until Jared was walking down the driveway before she changed into her work out clothes. The last thing she had wanted was another run in with him.
She had felt sore, both physically and emotionally, from her previous workout, but knew the only way to get rid of the physical soreness was to do more of the same. She hadn’t been quite sure what to do about the emotional soreness. All during her workout, she thought about what Jared had said. It seemed so strange to have someone want to be there for her. It seemed like she had been on her own for a long time.
Her parents were there for her while they were alive, but they had been gone for years. When they died, she had had no one to depend on but herself. She had dealt with their deaths, school, keeping custody of Kevin, and keeping food in the house and roof over their heads all by herself. She didn’t mind the weight of responsibility; she never resented the sacrifices she made. It never occurred to her that she could ask for help, nor that someone would want to be there to help take some of the weight off her shoulders. First Kevin started talking about taking more responsibility for his education; then Jared said he wanted to be there to help her. She didn’t know if she felt grateful for their caring, or resentful that they didn’t think she could handle it.
Okay, time to stop being so defensive. People were offering to help her, and she was taking it as an insult instead of a show of support. That was just plain childish, and she knew better than to act like that. How many times had she told her patients to let others help them when they first got home with their new babies? Every time she discharged someone. She was constantly telling women to let go of their pride and accept help from others, and she was trying to decide if she liked the thought of others helping her or not.
She really needed to relax some of her control issues. Kevin was only trying to gain a little independence, to help her out, to try to be an adult instead of her little brother. She could still help him financially; she had the wherewithal to do so, but she would let him decide what classes he wanted to take, and when.
By the time she had left the cellar, her body was pleasantly aching, and her thoughts were calmer.
Macayla headed for the shower, feeling the need for it badly after her workout. Concentrating on the ache in her shoulder she wasn’t prepared for the site that met her eyes when she opened the door to the bathroom. Jared must have gotten back from his walk and decided he needed a shower too. Macayla’s mouth dropped as she saw Jared about to step into the shower. She quickly did an about face, but not before she got a view to star in her next night’s fantasies.
His body was so hot. Dear God, how was she supposed to burn that image out of her brain? Long ropy muscles crossed over his thighs and shoulders. And his butt, man, she was a sucker for a guy with a good butt. She better make that a cold shower.
Grabbing her clothes with shaking hands and wobbly knees, she padded across the hall and used the master bathroom. Twenty minutes later her teeth were chattering, and she still wasn’t sure she could trust herself not to just jump Jared the moment he showed his face. She hid in the room and read medical journals until she felt sufficiently fortified for dealing with him.
All her preparations went down the toilet as soon as she got one look at him sitting on the couch in front of the fire with the fading daylight shining through the windows. She was being betrayed by her hormones, life was so unfair.
“How about pasta tonight?” And I’ll cook. It’s time I gave you a break in the kitchen.”
Macayla looked at her watch, was it really that late? She was about to protest that she didn’t mind cooking, but then smiled and said, “that sounds nice, thanks.”
Jared was a little surprised at her easy acquiescence, but didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was his first step in seducing Macayla, and arguing over why she said yes wasn’t a good way to start. Now he just needed to put all the pieces together.
“Why don’t you sit in front of the fire and relax, leave everything to me.”
“Whatever you say, Jared.”
His knees went weak at the sight of her long legs curling
under her as she sat on the couch. His hands itched to run through her red curls, and caress her creamy skin. Soon, soon he would know all of her. Inside and out. * * *
Macayla was sitting on the couch drinking the wine Jared insisted she needed to relax. Never much of a drinker to begin with, two glasses of wine had her feeling downright giddy.
She was thinking maybe this relaxing business wasn’t so bad after all when she heard a crash from the kitchen. Immediately she jumped up and ran into the kitchen. Jared was swearing profusely, trying to clean up a jar of spaghetti sauce that had smashed on the stone floor.
“Do you need any help? Be careful you don’t cut yourself.”
“I’m fine thanks; I’m just mad that I was so careless to put the jar too close to the edge of the counter. No problem, I saw another jar of sauce in the pantry, I’ll use that one. Go back in the living room and relax, I’ll have this cleaned up in a jiffy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m very self-sufficient in the kitchen.”
“If you say so.”
“Ye of little faith. You’ll see, now go relax, I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
Macayla went back to the living room with little reluctance. The only other person who had ever cooked for her since her mother had died was Samara, and they usually went out to eat when they were together. Macayla decided she could get used to someone else dealing with the menu, making the dinner, and cleaning up the messes.
Of course, she had made a deal with Jared about him cleaning when she cooked, maybe he would forget about it tonight. Macayla had slipped into a light doze by the time Jared was finished preparing dinner.
“Hey Sleeping Beauty. Dinner will be ready in five minutes.”
“Great,” Macayla said with a stretch and a yawn. “I’ll go wash up then set the table.” She stood up and stretched again, causing her shirt to strain over her breasts. She could see Jared was mesmerized by the sight and smiled to herself as she walked to the bathroom. There was something very flattering about having a drop dead gorgeous man staring at you with his mouth hanging open.
On the way back in, she watched as Jared efficiently strained the pasta, took the bread out of the oven, and put the salad on the table.
“It smells wonderful. Thank you for going to all this trouble. I can’t believe you lit candles. What is the celebration?”
“My recovery of course.”
“Sounds good. I’ll serve the salad if you want to get the rest on the table.” Macayla was certain something was up; Jared had a devilish glint in his eye, but she couldn’t guess what he was thinking.
The two ate in companionable silence; Jared was a pretty good cook. The spaghetti wasn’t over done, the salad wasn’t soggy, and the bread wasn’t burnt. Macayla was pleasantly surprised.
After doing the dishes together, they retired to the living room again for a record third glass of wine.
“I had better not have any more wine, I’m feeling awfully warm,” Macayla said. Her stomach was feeling a little funny, and she was starting to sweat. She put the barely touched glass of wine down and unbuttoned her shirt a little.
“I don’t feel too warm, but I won’t stoke the fire if you think it will help.”
“I don’t know if that will make any difference, I feel really warm. I’m going to put my hair up, and maybe open a window or something,” Macayla said as she fled the room.
She tore off her shirt and put her hair up in a ponytail. She felt feverish, her mouth was watering profusely, and her stomach was rolling like a boat at sea. She recognized the signs and ran to the bathroom in time to vomit into the toilet. When she finished she didn’t have the energy to do more than lay down on the blessedly cool tiles.
“Macayla? What’s going on?” Jared asked from outside the bathroom door.
“Nothing,” Macayla mumbled into the floor.
“If you don’t answer me, I’m coming in,” Jared said obvious worry straining his voice.
“Whatever,” Macayla mumbled. She didn
’t care if the entire police force entered the bathroom, she wasn’t moving from her spot for anyone.
“What’s wrong?” Jared asked. “Come on honey, why don’t you get into bed, you’ll be more comfortable.”
“Just leave me alone and let me die in peace,” Macayla said without opening her eyes.
“You only had a few glasses of wine, you can’t be drunk.”
“I’m not. Must be something in the food. Where did you get the sauce from?”
“I got it from the stores that were left here, remember? The sauce we brought with us I dropped on the floor. It can’t be the sauce, I ate it and I feel fine.”
“Well bully for you. Check the ingredients. Does it have mushrooms in it?”
“Hold on, I don’t remember. I’ll go check.” Jared got up and left the bathroom quickly.
Macayla could feel the nausea rising and was glad for Jared’s departure, she hated to show weakness in front of anyone, and she was way past weak at this point. She dragged herself up long enough to throw up into the toilet again, then collapsed against the floor.
“I had to go through the garbage to get the jar, but I have it now. Yes, there are mushrooms in it. Is that what is making you sick?” Jared asked.
“I’m really allergic to mushrooms. The sauce I brought with us didn’t have them in it, so I didn’t think of anything of it when you said you were making pasta. It didn’t occur to me that the other sauce could contain mushrooms or I would have said
something.”
“Can you take anything for it?”
“No, I’m lucky enough that it doesn’t cut off my breathing or give me hives. I’ll just puke every ten minutes or so for the rest of the night, then I’ll be fine. Really.” Macayla just wanted to be left alone, she was hoping Jared would get over his guilt and leave her to her misery. She would be dry heaving before long and really didn’t want an audience for it.
“I can’t just leave you here.”
“Sure you can. I would really prefer it. In fact, you should probably move to the master bedroom because I’ll be in here all night long.”