“I’m serious,” she said. “I told you I won’t be a party to—”
“You look gorgeous when you’re mad. Your eyes all sparking and nostrils flared.”
“Mmm…that does sound attractive. Back to the topic at hand, you’ve got to—”
“Marry me,” he said. “Forget all the reasons we shouldn’t be together and go with your heart. You know Dillon loves you and your boys have always liked me. Together, we’ll be an amazing family. We can adopt Rose. She’ll be our team mascot.”
“A-are you kidding me?” she asked with a strangled cough.
“The whole notion is ludicrous. You’re getting back together with Julie. We haven’t even been on a date.”
Pressing her against the wall, he kissed her hard. Like there was no tomorrow. Maybe because for them, there might not be. Yes, considering they hadn’t even been on an official date, the topic of marriage was nuts. But then so was the thought of getting back together with a woman like Julie, who’d stomped on his heart.
“Y-you’ve got to stop doing that,” she said right before kissing him back, easing her fingers into his hair with a decidedly feminine moan.
“I will,” he promised. “Right after this…” Feeling like a teen making out under the high-school bleachers, he lived for the moment, losing himself in Ella’s minty flavor and faint floral smell.
Breathing hard, foreheads touching, she said, “It’s the craziest thing, but I want to marry you. With every part of my being, I want to share raising my boys with you and cook dinners with you and wash cars and go to PTA and—”
“Whoa,” he said, with a faint grin, “I draw the line at PTA.”
“I don’t blame you. But Jackson, as beautiful as this dream is, it will never work. Dillon would end up resenting us both.”
“Stop,” he said, easing his hand under her lab coat, smoothing it along the soft, warm small of her back. “No one said we had to run into this. We’ll take our time. The kids will get used to us.”
“Do you really want that?” she asked, palms flattened against his chest. “Waiting for our children to get used to having a stepmom or dad? Wouldn’t you rather be in a relationship you can publicly celebrate?”
“So then your answer to my proposal is no?”
“Jackson…” She groaned. “You know you didn’t really mean it. It was a spur-of-the-moment impulse you should’ve held in check.”
She was right about the spur-of-the-moment thing, but he didn’t regret having said it. He didn’t even understand why he’d asked, but now that he had, he was at peace about it. He certainly wouldn’t be withdrawing the question. “There’s something about you, Ell, I can’t resist. I want to be with you—your boys and Rose. I don’t want to be lonely anymore.”
“Unfortunately,” she said, eyes shiny, “the ramifications of keeping company with me may end up making you more lonely than ever.”
Chapter Twelve
“He what?” In Exam Room Three, Rachel covered her gum-crammed mouth with her hands while shrieking. “No way. The man did not ask you to marry him. What did you say?”
“What do you think I said? No. Absolutely, not.” But she’d wanted to marry him on the spot. She’d wanted to slip into a comfortable new life the way she might escape a rotten day by tugging on her favorite jammies. Jackson soothed her. Made her feel better the way nothing ever had, save her most beloved flavors of ice cream.
“Hmmm…” Rachel perched on the end of the exam table, crinkling the white sanitary paper. “I never saw this coming.”
“Like I did?” Dropping to sit on a padded rolling stool, Ella sighed. “We’ve never even been out to dinner, yet I feel I’ve always known him. You should see how gentle he is with Rose. And with the boys, he’s fun-loving, yet firm. After he had to rescue them from the pizza place’s hamster tubes, he sat them all down for the cutest lecture. Telling them not to panic in tight spots and to think their way through difficult times. Oliver drank it all in. He craves Todd’s attention, and while Jackson can’t replace Owen and Oliver’s father, I really think that—”
“Would you listen to yourself?” Rachel said. “You’ve practically talked yourself in to running off to elope.”
Hands to her flaming cheeks, Ella said, “You’re right. What am I going to do?”
“I think the better question is, what do you want to do?”
“Oh, no,” Ella said, actually trembling from the force of her emotions. “That’s not fair, because if I could just do what I wanted, there wouldn’t even be an issue. There are so many lives at stake it makes my head spin. The logical side of me knows even to think of such a thing as marrying a practical stranger is ludicrous, but knowing Dillon as I do has made me feel as if I’ve been intimately acquainted with his father for equally long.”
Rachel blew a bubble. “You’ve got it bad, girl.”
“Tell me about it.”
Paige poked her head through the door. “Sorry to bug you, doc, but your next patient’s ready.”
“Thanks,” Ella said with a sigh.
Rachel hopped off the exam table to give her a hug. “You’ll figure this out.”
“I know,” she said with a faint smile. “The only question is when?”
“THIS IS A NICE SURPRISE,” Ella said that night, holding the door open for her friend Claire. “What’s up?”
“You tell me,” Claire said with a suggestive wink, pushing her way in.
“Miss Claire!” Owen said, jumping up from in front of the living-room TV to hug the petite blonde. “Are you going to babysit us?”
“Yep,” she said, giving him an affectionate kiss atop his head. “And look what I brought.” She wagged what looked like an old-school video game.
“Cool! I’m gonna go get Oliver, then we can play.”
“Okay,” Ella said, hands on her hips. “Mind telling me what this is all about?”
“I could, but that would leave you with less than five minutes to get ready for your big date.”
“I don’t have a date.”
“Oh, yes you do….”
By the time Jackson arrived, Ella was a bundle of nerves. Beyond the usual issues of what to wear and what to do with her hair, she was scared the boys were going to put two and two together to come up with four. They were highly observant. They knew Mom didn’t usually get dressed up at seven, then leave the house with a man.
When the doorbell rang, she was checking herself out in the mirror, wishing her favorite pale-yellow sundress didn’t cling to her hips and breasts. She really needed to lay off the ice cream. And she would. Just as soon as she figured out what to do about Jackson.
Forcing a deep breath, Ella smiled at her reflection, telling herself she could get through the evening without being attracted to the guy. She could stop her cravings to kiss him and wouldn’t touch him even once. Well…Maybe just once—but that was seriously it!
From the top of the stairs she heard the muffled sounds of Jackson coaching the boys on whatever game Claire had brought.
“This is awesome!” Oliver shouted. “Look how many mushrooms I’ve already got.”
“Don’t get too cocky,” Jackson warned. “This level is notorious for—”
“Aw, man. He fell off the cliff.”
“Told you,” Jackson said. “Next time, watch your speed around that curve and you’ll do fine.”
Pausing at the foot of the stairs, Ella closed her eyes and clutched her stomach. Butterflies had turned into darting, gigantic moths.
She jolted when strong, warm hands eased around her waist, then a masculine voice whispered in her ear, “Relax. You look amazing.”
“My dress is too tight,” she blurted. “I have to stop eating, and—”
“Your dress—and, more specifically, your sexy curves—are taking my breath away. And if you stopped eating, who be would my late-night ice cream buddy?”
Ella’s throat tightened and tears sprang to her eyes. How did Jackson always know the perfect thing to
say?
“Ready?”
She nodded. To Claire, she said, “Thank you.”
“No problem. You guys have fun.”
“Mom?” Owen asked.
“Yes, hon?”
“Wherever you’re going, can you bring back French fries?”
“We’re not going to that kind of place,” Jackson said.
“Where are you going?” Owen wanted to know.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Will there be snow?” Owen’s eyes got big.
“You’re stupid,” Oliver said, slugging his shoulder.
“Ouch! What’d you do that for?”
“Boys!” Ella interjected before things got too out of hand.
“Behave for Miss Claire.”
“Yes, Mommy.” Owen leaped up to give her a hug. Oliver was right, she thought with an inner grin. His little brother was a suck-up.
“Are you going on a date?” Oliver asked, pausing in his game to stare down Jackson.
“You could call it that,” Jackson said. “Is that all right? Maybe I should have asked you first, seeing how you’re the oldest and that makes you man of the house.”
Warmth flowed through Ella. Again, Jackson had known the right thing to say.
“I guess you can go,” Oliver said, raising his chin. “But I don’t like it.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” Jackson said. “That’s an admirable quality for a man.”
Still staring, Oliver shoved his hands in his shorts pockets. “Thanks.”
To Ella, Jackson said, “Ready?”
She nodded, then gave both boys a hug. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mommy.” Owen kept right on hugging her while Oliver glared.
“I’ve got to go,” Ella said, prying Owen’s arms from her waist. “Be back soon.”
At Jackson’s SUV, he held the passenger-side door open for her, helping her in. Once he climbed inside, his nearness consumed her. She wanted to run her fingers through the back of his short, spiky hair. Skim her fingertips along the powerful ridges of his shoulders and chest.
“You okay with this?” he asked, slipping the key into the ignition. “I know it’s short notice, but I work tomorrow, and this was a perfect night for my folks to take Dillon, and then Julie will be back in town, so—”
“I’m wonderful with this,” she admitted, resting her head against the seat back while he reversed out of the narrow drive. “But I shouldn’t be.”
“If it makes you feel better, this weekend I’m telling Julie I’d welcome her being more involved in our son’s life, but that I don’t see wedding bells in our future.”
“But—”
He silenced her with the softest of kisses before backing out onto the quiet neighborhood street. “Can you just once enjoy yourself in the moment without constantly trying to keep abreast of oncoming disaster?”
“I’ll try,” she said, covering his hand on the gearshift. “But it’s kind of hard when you head out on your first date in years only to be glared down by your son.”
“He’ll get over it.” Jackson turned the vehicle left, then made a quick right.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Oh.” The way her life had been going as of late, she wasn’t sure she still liked surprises.
“Promise,” he said, squeezing her hand. “This one’s good.”
After a few more minutes, seeing how he needed two hands on the wheel for their latest turn—off the road and into a field—Jackson released her. She’d barely had time to ponder already missing his touch when the SUV bucked and rocked in protest of the transition from smooth blacktop to knee-high weeds and grasses.
“I hate to be a party pooper,” she said, teeth rattling from the rough ride, “but I would have been perfectly happy with a quiet steak supper.”
“Nah,” he said, casting a wicked sexy grin her way, “too boring.”
They’d crossed the sunset-washed field to enter forest slanted with hazy rays. The ride had considerably smoothened when Jackson joined up with a four-wheel drive path. It was deeply rutted, but as long as the SUV’s tires straddled them, at least her teeth didn’t feel in danger of being knocked from her head.
“Okay,” she asked, “you’ve got me curious. Where are we?”
“Patience, my dear.”
Laughing, she said, “Sorry, but that has never been one of my strong suits.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re getting practice.”
She stuck out her tongue.
A few minutes later, in shadowy twilight, the vehicle’s headlights shone upon the ghostly paddlewheeler. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since they’d last seen it. In full sunlight, it had been derelict and sad. In the purples and oranges of the last of the day, vines embraced the behemoth, flowing and undulating like the water the craft should have been in.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said, throat knotted with still-fresh emotions from their tumultuous last visit here. “What made you think of coming to this place?”
“I felt as if we had unfinished business here,” he said, turning off the engine. “I acted like a buffoon, and seeing how I’ve always been fond of this old boat, I wanted to rechristen it with happy memories instead of sad.”
“But we learned our boys were safe here,” she pointed out.
“But because of my confusion over Julie, I also went off on you here. And for that, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, removing her seat belt so she could better face him.
“Ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
“Your big surprise. Come on,” he said, opening his door.
“Let’s go.”
She followed him into a clearing where he’d set up camp chairs and made a rock-ringed fire pit into which logs had already been laid. On a nearby blanket were two coolers and neatly stacked plates, napkins and forks, spoons and knives, a cast-iron skillet and aluminum foil. The nicest item was a wildflower bouquet around which he’d tied an awkward yellow bow.
“Jackson…” she said, tearing up at his thoughtfulness.
“I made your bow yellow, because you seem to like that color.”
“I love that color,” she said, tossing her arms around him for a hug. “Thank you.”
“So you like it?”
“Are you kidding?” she asked. “I love it. I haven’t been on a picnic in forever. What’re we having to eat?”
“As soon as I get a fire going, we’ll have those steaks you were craving, baked potatoes and asparagus.”
“I’m impressed,” she said. “But how are you going to fix all of that on a camp fire?”
“Trust me,” he said with a manly thump to his chest. “I’ve got skills.”
“THIS IS SERIOUSLY embarrassing,” Jackson said twenty minutes later beneath the last gasp of fading sun. “How could I have remembered to haul all of this crap out here, and yet forgotten a lighter or matches?”
“It happens,” she said with an annoying, albeit adorable, giggle.
“This isn’t funny, Ell. I’ve been planning this for a couple of days. I wanted to show you a nice time away from the boys. You know, remind you you’re a woman and I’m a man, and though it may not seem like it at times, there is more to our lives than kids.”
“No way,” she teased. “You’re making that up.”
“Woman…” he warned, snagging her around her waist with a playful growl. “I’m already grumpy enough about our lack of fire. Don’t make things worse.”
“What if I did this?” she asked, torturing him with a trail of kisses around the base of his neck.
“Then you’d really be in trouble,” he said, instantly aroused, instantly craving far more than the slabs of pricey meat languishing in the cooler. “Not that I’m complaining, but—”
“Hush,” she said, silencing him with her lips. Oh, but the woman had a way with kisses.
Coming up for air, he sai
d, “Not that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed your appetizers, but I’m starving. What do you want to do about dinner?”
“Did you bring anything for dessert? We could just pig out on that.”
“Um, yeah,” he said with a grim set to his lips. “I, ah, sort of figured on heading back to your place for ice cream.”
Grinning, shaking her head, she said, “How about we switch to plan B?”
“Which is?” He smacked a whiny mosquito about to land on his forearm.
“We pack all of this up, head back to town, rent a movie then take all the food to your grill.”
“What about your ice cream?”
“Simple,” she said, swatting a swarm of pesky gnats. “We rent the movie from the grocery store, then pick up a few cartons of what we will from henceforth call your ice cream.”
SAVE FOR THE UNEASY ball of doubt in her stomach—the one she was actively choosing to ignore—Ella couldn’t remember having ever been more content. She and Jackson had made a delicious meal, eaten it by candlelight in his quiet kitchen, and they now shared a chaise lounge on his patio, looking up at the stars.
“Thanks again,” she said, “for the picnic. It was an incredibly thoughtful gesture.”
“Even without food?” he asked, kissing her left eyebrow.
“Especially without food. It proved you’re human and not just the hunky paragon of perfection I had you pegged for.”
Leaning into her, kissing her cheeks and the tip of her nose, he said, “Mom always told me to beware of wenches with forked tongues.”
“You didn’t seem to mind this tongue of mine a few minutes ago.”
“You got me,” he said, feigning chest pains.
When they’d both stopped laughing, as much as Ella hated breaking the languid mood, there were things needing to be said. “Jackson…”
“Oh no, here it comes…”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, pulling back to better see his face. He was so handsome in the flickering glow of the citronella candles. Strong brow, high cheekbones covered in a hint of stubble. Eyes so deep and rich she could lose herself in them. Looking at him sometimes hurt, as though he was a dream that would fade with morning sun.
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