Jake feasted on high-tipped breasts, a narrow waist that gave way to generous, swelling hips. His hands itched to touch her, but he waited, letting her set the pace this night.
Light tendrils of steam curled out from behind the glass shower stall when Maura took his hand and coaxed him in. Jake felt the heat envelop him, the steam seep into and cleanse his lungs. Needle-sharp pellets of water drummed on his head and shoulders. Welcoming the stinging sensation, Jake lifted his face to the pulsing stream. His muscles were just beginning to relax under the pressure of the water when Maura created a wholly different tension.
She washed and soothed and stroked him. The surface of his skin tingled every place she touched. In her caressing hands, the soap and washcloth became instruments of erotic stimulation. The nerves in Jake’s chest and arms and legs were on fire before she finished with them.
He sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers slid into the thatch of hair at his groin, then cupped him in her hands. All the tension of the day surged up into a driving, savage need. An urge to plunge into Maura’s warmth, to bury himself in her, shook him to the depths of his being.
Jake backed her against the tile wall, his fist in the wet silk of her hair, and tipped her face up for his kiss. Driven by a primal instinct, he thrust his tongue into her welcoming mouth. His hips ground her against the tile, his chest crushed her breasts. In a fever of need, Jake reached down to find her core. She was hot and slick and ready for him. Cupping his hands under her rear, he lifted her against the tile wall.
Maura’s tight channel slid down around him, sheathing him to the root. Her legs locked around his waist, she pulled him even deeper. Jake bent one knee, pulled out a few inches, then surged back. The force of his thrust lifted her, filled her. Water drummed on his shoulders, and steam shrouded them in a gray haze of passion and heat.
Feverishly Jake used his hands and his mouth and every ounce of his strength to bring himself and his woman to a shattering, explosive, life-renewing climax. His blood drummed in his ears, blanketing their muffled groans. But just before he slipped over the edge, Jake thought he heard her moan his name.
The insistent ring of the doorbell woke Maura the next morning. She pulled a pillow over her head, willing the noise to go away. After Jake’s ferocious love-making the night before, all she wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of the weekend. She was sore and aching in places she never even knew existed. Considering the small shower stall’s size, they had managed to make creative use of every cubic inch.
The ringing gave way to a determined pounding. Groaning, she dragged herself out of bed, tugged down her tangled sleep shirt and opened the door to glare at two grinning McAllisters. In the bright early morning sun, they looked like two sleek, dark, very wide-awake purebreds.
Jake’s clear gray eyes and tanned face didn’t show any aftereffects—of either his near accident or his late night. Lisa’s skin had tanned to the same deep color as her dad’s, making her blue eyes stand out in sharp relief. Her short, feathery curls gleamed with the same blue-black shine. Maura felt her heart flip over in her chest just looking at the two of them.
“We’ve come to take you to the Mullet Festival,” Lisa announced.
“Who or what is a Mullet Festival?”
“Just the biggest social event of the year in this corner of the panhandle,” Jake answered with a grin. “In all the excitement yesterday, I almost forgot I promised to take Lisa there today.”
His private smile told Maura exactly what excitement he was referring to. She felt a little glow at the thought that she might register higher on his internal Richter scale than a near plane crash.
“I’ll go change. You guys help yourselves to some coffee or juice or something.”
She took another quick glance at Jake and Lisa to make sure she knew the proper dress for this big event. Lisa wore loose, flowered shorts and a bright pink tank top that matched her sneakers. The shorts showed off her long, coltish legs, while the pink top hinted at the woman she would become.
But it was Jake who held Maura’s eye and stopped her breath. Thin, faded jeans rode low on his hips and hugged his thighs. A crisp blue-and-white-striped cotton shirt opened at the neck to reveal a dark thatch of hair. Maura ran her eyes appreciatively down his long, lean body. Even in jeans, the man managed to exude an air of cool male elegance.
“Move it, woman. We want to get there in time for the hose-laying competition.” His grin widened at her blank stare. “Eglin’s got a good chance to win this year,” he told her solemnly.
“Ooo-kay.”
Shaking her head, Maura went to get dressed. The August sun would make the humidity unbearable, so she pulled on a sleeveless tank top in emerald green and paired it with a gauzy calf-length skirt in a swirling pattern of cool greens and blues. She tugged a brush through her hair, then caught it up in a wide plastic clip. Some cheerful bangle bracelets, hooped earrings and blue sandals completed her quick ensemble. A dab of lipstick, a few strokes of blusher, and she headed back down the hall.
“All set. Do I need a hat?”
“If you mean that monstrosity you wear when you and Lisa go wading, no, you don’t need it. We’ll get you a visor or something if the sun bothers you.”
“Honestly, Lisa, I don’t think your father approves of my wardrobe.”
Slipping on some oversize sunglasses, she followed the two of them out into the dazzling sunshine. Lisa gave her bright, colorful plumage an admiring glance.
“I think you look great.”
“So do I,” Jake said to her as he backed out of the driveway. “I’m getting used to rainbow colors and feathers. I don’t think I’d even recognize you if you showed up at work in a plain blue suit one day.”
“I don’t own one, so you don’t have to worry about it,” Maura told him grandly, then settled down beside Lisa to enjoy the drive.
The Boggy Bayou Mullet Festival turned out to be a combination of country fair and arts and crafts show. Held each year on a large, cleared area of the Eglin reservation just north of the main base, it attracted thousands of people from all along the coast and from Alabama and Georgia, as well. A long line of cars was backed up, waiting for parking.
Eventually Jake, Maura and Lisa joined the throng of people meandering past crafts booths and food stands. Organizations from the base and surrounding towns all hawked their wares, filling the air with sizzling scents and humorous incentives to try their products. Loudspeakers announced the ongoing entertainment at the pavilion. High school bands and glee clubs performed at intervals, adding to the cheerful din.
After a couple of hours spent admiring the local crafts, including an astonishingly professional series of seascapes and delicate gulls carved from drift-wood, they’d worked up an appetite. Maura sampled the barbecued shrimp and a spicy steak on a stick. Lisa opted for a slice of pizza and a sticky sweet German crumb cake.
“Save room for the pièce de résistance,” Jake warned, herding them toward a crowded booth.
“Aha!” Maura guessed. “The ubiquitous mullet.”
“Right. And if you’ve ever tasted anything as scrumptious as this before, I’ll eat your straw hat.”
When they finally worked their way to the front of the line, an aproned Pete dished up heaping platters of fish, fries and hush puppies.
“Here you go. The Shriners always serve the best mullet. We have a secret-batter recipe. It’s more tightly guarded than the Stealth!”
“I didn’t know you were working here today,” Jake commented as he passed plates to Maura and Lisa.
“You don’t think I’d miss this big event. And the chance to see all the pretty girls.”
Winking at Lisa, Pete teased her unmercifully about how much she’d grown in just one summer. With the line pressing them from behind and platters of hot food in either hand, they exchanged a few more words and settled at one of the scattered picnic tables.
“The hat’s safe,” Maura declared a short tim
e later, licking her fingers. Although the fish tasted a little gritty at first, its succulent, tender flesh was deep-fried in a seasoned batter and melted in her mouth. Replete, she sat back to enjoy the noisy throng and the country music from a local trio coming over the loudspeakers. Some moments later, a tall, sandy-haired youth appeared beside their table.
“Hi, Lisa.”
A blush crept up Lisa’s cheeks. “Hi, Tony. Um, you know my dad, don’t you? And this is my friend, Maura Phillips.”
“Yeah, hi, Colonel McAllister. Ms. Phillips.”
The boy gave them each a polite nod, and Maura caught the flash of a small metal stud in one ear.
Uh-oh. The hood.
But despite the earring, Tony gave the appearance of a neat, gregarious young man. And he certainly had his eye on Lisa.
“Niceville High School has a booth with some of the students’ artwork on display. I’ve got a couple of pieces there. Would you like to go see them with me?”
“Well…” She looked at Jake uncertainly.
“Didn’t you mention something about a hose-laying contest?” Maura asked him casually. “I’d like to watch it, but I doubt Lisa is all that interested. Why don’t she and Tony meet us later?”
Jake gave her a dry look, but acquiesced with good grace. After setting a time to join them, the teenagers disappeared into the throng.
“I wonder if any father ever thinks a boy is good enough for his daughter,” Maura teased as a slight scowl settled over Jake’s face.
“It’s just that Tony’s hormones seem to do double time whenever he gets in Lisa’s vicinity. Didn’t you see the look in his eye?”
“Yes, and I don’t think you have anything to worry about. She’s a smart girl. She can handle Tony and his hormones.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Just stop worrying! That’s an order, Colonel.”
Jake gave her a mock salute and unfolded his long frame from the picnic table. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say! Let me help you up.”
“Why? It’s comfortable here in the shade.”
“As I recall, you expressed an overwhelming desire to see the hose-laying. We’d better head over there or we’ll miss it.”
“Just what is this contest, anyway?”
“You’ll see.”
It turned out to be a friendly test of skills between the various fire departments in the local area. Eglin had two teams entered. With three active airfields and more than five hundred square miles of wooded terrain to protect, the base had one of the largest fire-protection branches in the air force. And one of the best trained.
Maura found herself caught up in the excitement and cheered as loudly as any of the onlookers when the teams raced out onto the field, laid out the heavy hoses and aimed pressurized streams at targets well down the field. Vehicle maneuvering followed the hose-laying contest, then pole climbing. Sweltering in their protective gear and laden with ropes and axes and oxygen bottles, the firefighters scrambled up poles in the ninety-degree heat. Watching them gave Maura a new appreciation of the rigorous training these men and women had to endure.
Recalling the image of two heavily suited rescue personnel climbing up to release Jake from the Stealth canopy, she shivered and hoped she never had to see these fire-protection personnel in anything other than a friendly contest again.
At midafternoon they wandered back to the center of the festival grounds. Jake stopped at a booth and insisted on making a purchase.
“Your nose is getting red.”
He leaned down to give the body part under discussion a quick kiss, then settled a gray-blue visor on her forehead. The logo depicted a large, dancing fish with knife and fork in one fin and a pennant proclaiming this year’s Mullet Festival the best ever in the other.
“Thank you. I’ll treasure this forever.” Laughing, Maura surveyed the souvenir booth. “You could use a little cover yourself. Here, try this one.”
The straw Stetson fit perfectly. It also shaded Jake’s eyes and cast the high angles of his cheeks into sharp relief. Maura gulped at the picture of pure masculinity he made.
She insisted on paying for the hat, informing him that she’d decided to take his conservative wardrobe in hand, and this was the first step.
Jake linked his arm through hers and they headed for the central pavilion for the introduction of honored guests. The senior commanders from the base were onstage, as well as the local politicians and, of course, the Mullet Festival Princess and her court. Since this was an election year, the dignitaries’ comments tended to take on a distinctly campaigning flavor.
After the speeches, the guests dispersed to mingle with the crowd. Some time later a surprisingly talented vocal group from the local community college summer program gave a medley of “golden oldies.” Jake swept her into his arms, and as they swayed to the music, Maura marveled at her contentment.
A few short months ago, she would never have pictured herself dancing to the dreamy strains of “Deep Purple” on a swept dirt dance floor while afternoon sunlight filtered through tall, spindly pines. Closing her eyes, she let her head drift down to a warm, muscled shoulder. She felt cocooned in a web of happiness, part of, yet apart from, the cheerful, sweaty crowd that jostled around them. Tightening her arm around Jake’s neck, Maura fit her body into his.
They spent the rest of the afternoon at the festival. Lisa checked in, then disappeared once more with Tony. The shy glow in his daughter’s eyes had overcome Jake’s reservations about her companion.
A tired, contented trio headed home after a late supper of more hush puppies and, of course, mullet. Maura had a napkin-wrapped chunk of leftovers in her purse for Bea, and the scent of fried fish filled the Jeep as they wound their way out of the traffic.
Jake headed for his bayside house to drop Lisa off first. Maura was entertaining fantasies about a late-night repeat of their spectacular performance in the cool waters of the bay when they pulled up behind a rental car parked in Jake’s circular driveway.
“Who’s that?” Lisa asked.
“I don’t know,” her father replied, then blinked in surprise as a slender, petite brunette opened the front door.
“Hello, Jake. I hope you don’t mind. I let myself in.”
“Mom!” Lisa jumped out of the Jeep and threw her arms around the smiling woman. “What are you doing here?”
“I was at a regional auction in Mobile, so I thought I would drive over and see how you’re doing. I miss you, sweetheart.”
Maura held back while Jake and Lisa greeted their unexpected visitor. Suddenly she could feel every drop of dried perspiration and every particle of dust she’d acquired during the long, hot day. Beside this exquisitely groomed woman in her white linen pantsuit and gold jewelry, she felt clumsy and definitely worse for wear. Nor did it help when the newcomer’s slightly mocking gaze slid from Maura’s fish-bedecked visor to Jake’s straw hat.
“Going native, darling?” she asked with a bland smile.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. And enjoying it. Anne, I’d like you to meet an associate of mine, Dr. Maura Phillips.”
Anne McAllister’s penciled brows arched delicately at the title. Obviously Maura didn’t quite fit her image of a physician, or any other kind of doctor. Resisting the urge to wipe her sweaty palm on her skirt, Maura held out her hand. She also managed not to squeeze Anne’s limp fingers, although she detested weak-wristed, two-fingered handshakes.
In fact, Maura thought as she ran her eyes over the brunette’s slim figure and stark, high-cheeked beauty, there wasn’t a whole lot about this woman she liked at all. Recognizing pure, unadulterated jealousy for what it was, Maura gave herself a mental shake.
“How long are you staying, Mom?” Lisa asked eagerly. “I’ve got lots and lots to tell you.”
“Just this evening. I thought we might all have dinner together.” Her glance swept over the trio. “If you don’t have other plans, Jake.”
“We’ve already had dinner, but we’ll go
with you if you haven’t eaten yet,” he replied easily. “You don’t mind a late dessert, do you, Maura?”
“Oh, no, Jake. You three have lots to talk about. I’ll just go on home.”
There was no way she intended to share a table in some restaurant with this elegant woman. Not in her dusty clothes and displaying her shiny, sunburned nose.
Both Jake and Lisa tried to convince her to join them, but she resisted. “Seriously, after all that mullet, the only activity I can handle now is lying in the lounger on my back patio.”
Jake conceded with good grace. “I’ll take Maura home and be back shortly,” he informed mother and daughter.
The atmosphere in the Jeep was considerably different from that of a quarter hour ago. Jake was distracted, and Maura felt a curl of unaccustomed jealousy.
“She’s lovely,” she finally offered, as much to break the silence as to give in to that perverse need to scratch a fresh sore.
“I suppose so.”
She scratched a bit more. “So how long were you married?”
“Almost twelve years.”
“Does it still hurt? The divorce?”
“At times.” His voice was low, reluctant. “Anne and I stopped loving each other long ago. What hurts is knowing that two reasonably intelligent adults who started out caring so much for each other could let their feelings just…drift away. We didn’t even realize they were gone until it was too late.”
The sore was open and running now. Maura wrapped one arm tightly around her waist.
“I was too busy to see it coming,” Jake admitted. “I went from test-pilot school to flying secret missions at a classified site, and then to the Pentagon. If I had any time with Anne and Lisa on Sunday afternoons, it was a rare occasion. It took me a long time to realize I was getting more fulfillment from the air force than from my marriage.”
He stared out the windshield, as if seeing the years behind instead of the road ahead.
“Anne was just as busy. She started her own antique business and built it into an exclusive consulting service. When I left the Pentagon, she decided to stay in Virginia. She’d acquired a distinguished clientele and enjoyed her work. More than she enjoyed our marriage. More than either of us enjoyed it by then.”
One of the Boys Page 8