“It’s okay. Come on in.”
With the sun blocked by the awning, his face was in shadow, and she couldn’t read his eyes. Was he angry? Was that a cool “come in”? Had he had it with her? Oh, she wouldn’t blame him, but—
She followed him inside. As he pivoted to face her, one crutch caught on the near leg of the coffee table, sending a bowl flying. “Damn!” he cursed, batting at the table with the crutch tip.
“Oh, you are angry!”
“Of course I’m angry. I’ve been on these things one day, and already I’ve broken the night table, an umbrella stand, and that bowl! By the time I’m done, I’ll own this boat! And I don’t even like it! I feel like a caged cougar!”
“I’m sorry, Jack. Really—”
He stopped growling and looked at her, a wry grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And what are you sorry for? You didn’t send me in after that alligator. Hey, you’re the first good thing that’s happened to me all day.” Dropping one crutch with a bang, he reached out and touched her cheek. “Come here.”
“Oh, Jack”—she leaned against his chest—“I feel so rotten. I wasn’t there to get you this morning, and the other night … the other night I didn’t tell you how much I love you.”
“I noticed.”
She pressed her face into his shirt so that the fabric muffled her words. “I—I really don’t know what happened. I was just so mad at you, and so scared, it was like I wanted to punish you for making me feel all that. But if anything had happened to you—”
“Nothing happened. And nothing’s going to happen.”
“But it could. You keep doing all these wild, risky things, and something’s bound to happen. I can’t stand it. I really can’t. I don’t want to love you this much.”
Jack let the other crutch clatter to the floor and wrapped his arms around her, leaning on her so that she had to hold some of his weight while he held her. “What do you want, Abby? You want to love me a little, enough to make you feel good, but not more? Not enough to hurt? Not enough to scare you? I don’t know how to love that way.”
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her fiercely. She couldn’t breathe; his grip hurt her ribs. But when he drew his tongue and lips away, she clung to him, slipping the tip of her tongue into his mouth, across his smooth, firm lips. She nipped at his chin, kissed his cheek, rubbed her mouth against the raspy stubble of his beard.
“Forget what I said,” she whispered. “I love you madly, I do.”
“And I love you. But if I don’t sit down, I’m going to fall down. Better yet, grab the other end of this coffee table.”
Balancing with one arm, he grabbed the near side of the table, and together they hoisted it on top of the couch. Then Jack stretched out on the floor, pulling her down on top of him.
“Are you sure I won’t hurt you?” she asked.
“You couldn’t. Now, talk to me, girl.”
Abby blushed. “Talking wasn’t what I had in mind right now, Jack.” And she nuzzled up against him, finding relief in the solid bulk of his body, its beauty and power. She wanted to climb right into his skin and hide there. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed against him. “Hug me. Hug me so tight, I can’t breathe. Jeanette says that makes everything all better, so hug me tight.”
“What needs to be all better, Abby?”
“Nothing. Everything. Oh, I don’t want to talk now. I only want you to hold me.”
So he held her tight.
When he finally felt her relax, he whispered, “Abby, talk to me.” Gently he separated the two of them, leaving one muscled arm as a pillow beneath her head.
“Well?” he prompted softly.
She felt so awkward, so transparent. With a little shrug she answered, “Mostly I felt terrible about these last few days. I’m so sorry they happened.”
“Forgotten. What else?”
She squirmed in discomfort, pressing her face back into his shoulder. “Oh, it’s too confusing to explain.”
“Try me. Let me in, Abby, share it with me. You’re always trying to keep everything in neat little compartments: Your family, your work, me. But life isn’t neat. You’ll go crazy trying, and you’ll miss out on something good.”
“What?” she whispered.
“Me. The love I can give. The help. The strength.”
“But it isn’t your problem.”
“Make it mine!”
She rested her cheek on his arm and looked at him. “I’m afraid if I lean on you, I won’t be able to stand on my own again. I’m afraid I’ll need you and then you’ll go away. I know you say you’ll be back, but what if you get home, home to your mountains and your rivers, and that wildness grabs hold of you again? I can see the restlessness in you now. And what about Pop? Now you only miss him a little, because you know you’re going back—but could you leave him? Could you? I couldn’t,” she whispered. “And I couldn’t go with you, even if you asked me. But—but how could I stand it then? How could I live?”
“Oh, darlin’.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “I do miss the mountains and the rivers. And I do love that old man—but I love you more. At least I think I do, and I’m willing to risk all the rest to find out. But I can’t do it alone.”
Abby pressed her face to his chest, hiding behind the curtain of her hair. “Gallagher,” she began in a shaky little whisper, “sometimes you just steal my breath away. I mean, nothing in my whole life prepared me for you. I’m good at all the wrong things: I can put on a good front, I can pretend I don’t need anyone’s help—but I don’t know how to do this. Nobody ever said things like this to me before.”
“It’s lucky, or I’d have to round ’em up and punch ’em in the nose.” And, having made her laugh, he grabbed her wrists and rolled over on top of her. “Are you okay now?”
She nodded. “I do love you,” she said, trapped as she was under his delicious weight. “I don’t know why you want to be loved by a stubborn, short-tempered woman, but I’m yours.”
“Good. Any other problems?”
“One. Simon. We had a really mean argument at the café, and now I’ve found out he’s been making decisions behind my back. He made me look like a fool in front of the whole county!”
Jack’s eyes flashed with fury, but he kept his voice steady. “Abby, no one would ever think that. You’re the most determined, most courageous woman I’ve ever met, and all your friends and neighbors know it.” He let that sink in, then added softly in a voice that made the hair rise at the back of her neck, “I’ll take care of him. I’ll straighten this out.”
“Heavens, no! I told you, I’ve got to handle this myself. Jack. I have to prove I can.”
“Prove it to whom, Abby?”
“To me, Jack. To myself.”
“Don’t be your own worst enemy, Abigail Jean.”
“You be my best friend, okay, Gallagher? Keep reminding me that this is real. That life can be this wonderful, even when it gets this hard. Promise?” Her wide blue eyes begged for compliance.
Jack drew her face to his. Brushing his lips across hers, he said, “That’s an easy promise to keep. Letting you struggle through this by your own stubborn self is the hard part.”
“A test of your self-control, sir,” she said, feeling whole again, safe. “Now”—she smiled—“I really have to get going. Roll off. I can’t budge you and I can barely breathe.”
“That’s too bad,” he murmured against her throat. “But I haven’t got that much self-control!”
“Oh, this is called taking unfair advantage—!” She struggled to get her arms between them so she could push him off. “Jack! Ooomph …” She gave him a futile little shove, then collapsed. “Jack …”
He rolled off onto one hip, then propped his head up on one hand. “I must be crazy to let you get away now. You’re damn hard to catch!”
Abby reluctantly stood up. “I’ll try not to be so difficult.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it!”
Disbelief and desire warred in his dark eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! Of course,” she added, “we can’t go till Sunday, and you’ll have to get me back in time for the market on Monday, and you’ll have to wait tables for me on Tuesday, but yes,” she insisted, laughter bubbling through her words, “I sure do need a weekend with you at the beach. That is, if you’re up to it.”
“I’ll manage.” He grinned. “Thanks for the invite.”
Ten
“Wherever we’re heading, it had better take a good hour. Let me near the water now and I’d sink.”
“No one told you to eat all those biscuits, Jack.”
“It’s not my fault your mother made great biscuits. And since you insisted we show up for Sunday breakfast, I figured I’d better make a good impression.”
“Well, you certainly made an impression! An even dozen? Shame on you!”
Jack grinned, shifted the Jeep into first, and headed down the highway. “So, navigator, what’s our destination?”
“Thought I’d take you to the Atlantic this time. Down near Cocoa Beach. Pretty beaches and nice surf—especially with this wind picking up.”
“Cocoa? Hey, we can stop at that RonJon’s surf shop your sister’s always talking about.”
“Jack, that’s okay for kids.”
“Don’t be an old fuddy-duddy. I’ll buy us some T-shirts and Jams and sunglasses, and we can be real tourists.”
“Gallagher, you are a tourist! And a nut! Why don’t you just give me the money, and I can invest it in a new juice squeezer for the Paradise.”
“How exciting!”
“There’s more to life than excitement.”
“There’s more to life than work.”
“Here we go again!”
They both laughed. And when Abby shook her hair back in the wind and tossed him a smile, Jack breathed more easily, seeing that the shadows were fading from her blue eyes.
As he took the cutoff leading away from Titusville and the Cape, he craned his neck, searching for a glimpse of the shuttle on the launch pad. “Hey, one weekend let’s head over to the space center. I’ve got to see a launch.”
“Oh, you can see them from Orlando, even: the white contrail and the bright dot of the rocket. It’s great.”
“Not enough. I want to be so close, I can feel the roar. Feel the power. Feel the earth tremble.”
“Here,” she said, sliding her hand slowly up his thigh. “Feel the earth tremble.”
Eyes flashing, he caught her hand between his knees and kept it trapped there.
Abby tried to tug it free. “Stop, Jack. You can’t drive and play.”
“You started it,” he said. “But we can get back to that later. Can we drive and talk?”
“Sounds possible,” she admitted, stealing a nervous glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I got a call from Pop.”
Her heart slipped down to her stomach. “Oh? Everything okay?”
“Basically okay. He got himself hurt a few days ago. He was digging for crystals in a small cave on a riverbank and caused a rockslide. Luckily he ended up with only a couple of bruised ribs and a bad ankle, but he says he found a beauty. Wrapped it in his shirt and drove himself to the hospital in Estes Park.” Jack’s chuckle was a mixture of admiration and frustration. “That old coot’ll be the death of me yet!”
“But he is all right?”
“Says he’s fine now. The wife of that couple taking care of the Lodge plied him with hot soup and hot compresses and kept a close eye on him. I’m glad she was there.”
“But sorry you weren’t.”
“Yes,” he answered softly, “of course I’m sorry. I wasn’t there when he needed me, and he’s always been there for me.” He frowned and glanced out the window at the passing scrub palms and wetlands. “I’m going to have to go back, Abby. It worries me, with all the problems you’re having right now, but I can’t put it off much longer.”
“Another week, Jack? If you could? I mean, I’m just trying out this new hug theory of Jeanette’s”—she grinned self-consciously—“and I’d kind of hate to be alone right now.”
He studied her carefully calm profile, her hands clasped, white-knuckled, in her lap. “All right,” he said. He touched her hair. “All right.”
Her face lit with a smile. “Okay! Then we are not going to talk about our worries this weekend. Not yours, and not mine. Please, Jack, let’s not even think about them. I want to have a happy time, a fun, cozy, relaxing couple of days. That’s what you promised.”
“That’s a promise I can keep. Now, why don’t you direct us straight to RonJon’s, darlin’, and I don’t want to hear a word of protest.”
Sunlight glinted off the windshield, off the hood of the car, off the long ribbon of highway ahead. In the heat the light shimmered like water. The road eventually lifted in a shining arc over the Banana River, and in moments the ocean was there in front of them; ten shades of blue lay shining in the sun.
The “World’s Largest Surf Shop” was a bright, splashy, flashy chaos. Surfboards, boogie boards, jet skis, and rafts hung from the ceilings and lined the aisles. You had to inch between them and the mob of shoppers all smelling of coconut oil and lotion and salt and sweat.
Before Abby knew what was happening, Jack had hefted a surfboard off its display and was being sold promises of the ultimate thrill by an eighteen-year-old in Ray-Bans and a flat top.
“No,” she said with a gasp, hurrying over. “Do not sell this man a surfboard!”
Jack laughed. “He doesn’t think I could learn in a day and a half, but I thought I’d give it a shot.”
“No. Oh, Jack, please no. Remember your leg, the snake, the ’gator—” she begged, then changed tack faster than a sailor in a high wind. “Besides”—she fluttered her lashes and shifted into a sultry drawl—“I was hoping you’d have your hands full today, honey.” Jack regarded her with amusement. Turning to the young man, he shrugged. “Next time. Thanks.”
When he left, Abby rolled her eyes. “Oh, I can’t believe I said that. The kid must think I’m going to jump your bones in the next aisle!” Her cheeks were pink.
“Well, you sure took his mind off surfboards! You even caught me by surprise.”
“Desperation, Gallagher. Oh—the things you make me do!” She glared at him in mock ferocity. “I thought we were here to buy T-shirts.”
So he bought her four T’s decorated with sharks wearing sunglasses and flower leis, sharks surfing, and sharks skate-boarding.
“What am I going to do with all these?” she asked, laughing at him.
“Swim in them, sleep in them, I don’t care! You look adorable.”
“What about you?”
He held out a muscle shirt, and she could feel herself melt just imagining him in it. “I’m going to like that!” she said, grinning.
“That’s what it’s for.” He grinned back.
Their motel was a five-story pink flamingo perched on the beach. In moments they had checked in, unpacked, and pulled on their swimsuits.
As Abby started to tug one of the new T-shirts over her head, she caught Jacks glance. He was watching her with that look of his—lips half-parted, eyes dark and eager—that meant he couldn’t wait to get her in bed. Her heartbeat quickened. Her skin began to tingle. She could already feel his touch. “I know what you’re thinking, Gallagher.”
“Can’t help it. You look so beautiful.”
“This?” she said, fluffing the ruffle at the top of the suit. “It’s an old, worn-out—” Her breath ran out, and she couldn’t seem to draw another. Swallowing, she
smiled, then bit her lip. “I knew I was going to be a sucker for that muscle shirt! Damn! Where has my willpower gone?”
“I don’t know,” he murmured against her lips, “but I hope it stays gone for good!”
When they finally got down to the beach, the sun was pinned straight up in the sky and the whole world seemed golden and dazzling. They rented wooden chaises with bright yellow cushions and a yellow umbrella that Jack speared into the sand and popped open immediately. Abby lay down in that welcome little oasis of shade and began applying sunscreen. “Do my back, would you?”
“Happily.” His hands slid over the warm skin of her back, circling from her shoulders to the edge of her suit. “How about the back of your legs?”
“Umm … please.”
“Anything else?”
“No, that’s perfect!” She sighed contentedly. “I’m perfect and you’re perfect, and this day’s perfect, and I’m perfectly happy. This is just what I needed, Gallagher.”
“Happy to oblige, darlin’.”
The heat went to her brain like alcohol, pulling her down into a drugged half-sleep. The waves beat a constant refrain on the shore. The gulls circled overhead. She heard Jack’s even breathing next to her, the rustle of pages as he read, the whisper of the breeze through his hair. Or did she dream it? Was this all a dream? The nearness of him? The sure, steady strength? The power of his body and the gentleness of his touch? Don’t let me wake, she sighed in her dream. Don’t let me wake.…
The first drop of water landed on her nose. Another on her chest. Then a cascade across her legs. With a yelp she was up and on her feet. “Gallagher, I’ll get you for that,” she said, gasping, but he ran into the water, laughing, spraying salt water in all directions. “Come on in,” he yelled.
“No. I want to get good and hot first.”
Paradise Cafe Page 14