by Donna Alward
His smile seemed to flirt with her, and on top of the potent memory, it wreaked havoc with her intentions.
“How are you, Shan?”
And damned if she didn’t blush like a schoolgirl. She inhaled, shoring up her defenses against his unwitting charm. “I’m fine.” Dear God, if that towel happened to slip…
“Is Emma okay?”
She spun, again avoiding looking at him. “Emma’s fine. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” He deliberately parroted the word they’d already used several times, and her consternation grew as she realized he was still awfully good at getting around her without even intending it. “Right as rain.”
He spread his hands to demonstrate, and the towel slipped. He caught it quickly, revealing nothing beyond the hollow of his hip, but her eyes followed the direction and in that split second she saw the scar, long and angry and jagged, big enough she couldn’t possibly miss it.
“Jonas,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the rectangle of cotton that hid his wound once more.
His lips thinned to a hard line, all the earlier teasing wiped clean from his expression. “Stop. I don’t want your pity.”
She met his gaze evenly. “Of course you don’t, and that’s not what I meant. But it does look horrible, and I’m sorry for what you went through.”
“I’m alive, and there’s a hell of a lot more who aren’t.”
Shannyn paused as his eyes skittered away from hers. Any cockiness he’d exhibited had evaporated. But his with his last sentence, things became crystal clear. Survivor’s guilt. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. But it all made sense now. He’d been hurt, but he’d made it out. Who hadn’t? And why did he feel so guilty about it?
He turned away, disappearing into a room on the right, she presumed to get dressed. She’d be a liar if she didn’t admit to herself that the sight of him nearly naked wasn’t an extreme pleasure. She’d been right about what she’d guessed was beneath those lovely T-shirts he was fond of wearing. Injury or not, his physique was splendid. She’d longed to caress the skin of his ribs, slide her hands over his firm chest.
But that wasn’t her place anymore. It was a physical reaction. It had nothing to do with the reality of their situation.
When he returned, he had covered his scar with denim and was buttoning up a light shirt.
“The scar is why you don’t wear shorts.”
“I don’t want questions. Or sympathy. Or revulsion.” He finished buttoning his shirt and his hands dropped to his sides.
“I wondered, when you wore jeans the other night when it was so hot.”
She put her purse down on the small dining table, wanting to sit but waiting to be invited to do so.
“Meeting Emma was hard enough. I didn’t want to have to answer questions about my scar. Although I ended up talking to her about it anyway.”
He stood several feet away, not inviting her to make herself comfortable and she felt more awkward with each passing moment.
“She had a wonderful time.” Shannyn’s lips curved a little, a slight invitation to make things more comfortable. Most of her temper had dissipated once she’d seen his scar. “Despite any mishaps. And she enjoyed our lunch out a lot.”
“Then why are you here?”
Her smile vanished at his blunt tone, bringing back her motive with distinct clarity. “I think we need to work out a visitation schedule.”
“A what?”
Shannyn blinked at his incredulous tone. She’d heard his voice on her answering machine and didn’t know what to think. She’d thought that he’d come over now and then, spend some time with Emma. But after their first meeting, he’d called with that lunch invitation, and now it was a plan for an air show. She didn’t quite know how to feel about that. She wasn’t sure Emma was ready for a one-on-one outing with Jonas. Wasn’t sure Jonas was ready for that either. And there was no rhyme or reason to his invitations. It made it awfully difficult to say no.
“Don’t you think we should? Set up boundaries, I mean?”
He ran a hand over his cropped hair and shook his head. “You’re serious.”
Shannyn folded her hands in front of her. “Yes, I am. For one, Emma asks questions like a normal five-year-old. Like when you’re coming over again. When she’ll see you. What you’ll do together. I don’t know how to answer her, and that’s not fair. It’s confusing to her.”
“But you must have gotten my message. About this weekend.”
Shannyn nodded, wary of rushing the conversation, wanting to make sure she got it right. It was good that Jonas was excited about spending time with Emma, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Jonas was facing his own demons right now and that it would be better if they spent time together with Shannyn around. If they set up boundaries, it would help her as much as it helped Emma. It would be easier if she knew and could prepare, rather than be hit with seeing him out of the blue.
“Yes, of course I got your message. And it was a reminder to me that we should talk this out, decide how we’re going to proceed. I think your visitation should have structure.”
“You’re setting restrictions.”
She bit down on her lip. Perhaps she was, but that wasn’t exactly how she meant it to be. “I’m not trying to stiff you on time with her, Jonas. It’s just…I’m not sure I’m comfortable with your plans for this weekend. I think it should be…”
“Supervised time.” He finished the sentence flatly.
She sighed. “Can we sit down and talk about this? All this standing and gawking and I feel like we’re going head-to-head or something.”
He motioned towards the single item of furniture—the battered couch—and she sat down, comfortable until he took the cushion farthest away from her.
“Like I said—supervised time.” He didn’t let go of his point.
“Unless you can show me that I can trust you with her.”
She held her breath for a moment, expecting him to lose his cool. Her fingers dug into the edge of the cushions. This wasn’t going at all like she’d hoped.
“You don’t trust me. God, Shan. You should know I’d never do anything to hurt Emma.” His eyes pinned her, hotly accusing. “Is that really what you think of me?”
Her fingers relaxed slightly, but she wasn’t sure how to proceed. It wasn’t a matter of trusting him per se. She knew he’d never do anything to hurt Emma, not intentionally. Some of her doubts had to do with the changes in him, and she knew to broach the topic was to push a hot button.
But she also knew that many of her reservations had to do with herself and how she felt about being near him so often. It had been difficult enough, having Emma as a constant reminder of how much she’d loved him. Now, to see him in the flesh on a regular basis, each time cut her a little deeper. It didn’t get easier. Quite the opposite. Being with him reminded her both of how she’d felt about him and how little had changed. Maybe she wasn’t still in love with him, but she remembered how that felt, and the physical attraction was still there, like muscle memory.
“If you were in my shoes, would you let her go so easily? Look at this rationally. I don’t doubt your intentions, not at all.” She angled herself on the couch, scared to face him yet knowing she must. Knowing she had to say the hard words. “Six years ago, you left and never looked back. And now you’re here. You’ve discovered you have a daughter. I don’t doubt your motives with regards to Emma. But you hate me for keeping her from you, and you are a different man. You can deny it all you want, but it’s true. Something has changed you, and until I understand what and how it will affect Emma, the visits will be supervised.”
He got up from the couch. “So what, I get to visit her at your house a few nights a week? What kind of father would that make me?”
“What kind of father do you want to be?”
She’d asked herself that same question all day. His message hadn’t even asked for a reply. He’d just said he would b
e there Saturday at one o’clock. It had sounded like an order, not an invitation. She’d been tempted to call but decided a personal visit would be better.
How did he see himself as a father? She’d wondered about it all the while she’d been at work and had gotten his address from his file. What did he want out of his relationship with his daughter? Wondered all the while she’d stopped at home to change into her favourite jeans and top, knowing she was going to see him again. Asked it as she’d dropped Emma off for a play date at Lisa’s and as she’d stood in the foyer of his apartment building for a full ten minutes before ringing the security buzzer. What kind of father did Jonas want to be? A part time one? Full time? She remembered the way he’d looked at her as he’d come across the lawn with Emma’s hand in his. Did he want to be one that sent presents on birthdays and Christmas or one that included a wife and mother? It was the last that caught her every time. Six years ago, she might have accepted an offer like that. But she looked at him and could honestly say she didn’t think she could trust him not to break her heart all over again. She didn’t know how to compete with his career.
“Are you serious? What kind of father do I want to be?” He got up and started to pace, his gait only slightly uneven. “You’re asking questions I don’t know how to answer. I just go through this day to day, trying to make sense of everything. I’m sorry but my ‘big picture’ is slightly myopic right now!”
Shannyn took a deep breath, trying not to rise to the bait. “That’s what I want to find out. How do you see this playing out? How involved do you want to be in Emma’s life?”
He faced her squarely. “I want to be her father and everything that entails.”
“It’s not all bedtime stories and barbecues. Sometimes it’s really hard. So you need to decide what sort of a commitment you can make to her. I don’t want to get her hopes up only to have you decide it’s too much and back away.”
“You think I’d do that?”
“Your commitment record is a little shaky.”
“Say what you mean. My commitment record is shaky with you.”
Heat bloomed in her neck, making its way up to her cheeks. He was right. He’d never had a problem committing to the army or his unit. He’d run from her. She needed to remember that.
“We need to settle this, Jonas.”
“Shannyn, there is no we. It’s better that way and we both know it.” He resumed pacing. “I cannot believe you are honestly sitting there thinking about there being a you and me.”
Shannyn felt as though she’d been struck. Whether or not Jonas had been thinking it or not, she had, and it was clear to her now that any atmosphere she’d detected between them earlier, any flirting he’d promoted, had been misinterpreted.
She didn’t trust him. She didn’t know him. His moods seemed to blow hot and cold from one moment to the next. He was a different man but in some ways nothing had changed. For all her intentions today, Jonas was the one making the first real step to setting boundaries. It should have been a relief. Instead she found herself irrationally blinking back tears that she didn’t want him to see.
“I’m sorry if that’s harsh.” His voice gentled slightly. “I just think we have to be honest here. You are still furious with me for not taking you with me. And I’m still angry with you for keeping Emma from me. To start anything between us would be foolish at the very least.”
It sounded so perfectly reasonable.
She lifted her chin. She had been thinking it. How could she not, when the only man she’d ever loved was back and had landed smack dab in her business? He was right about them being angry at each other, but it wasn’t quite so easy for her to ignore the feelings she’d always had for him.
“You’re right, of course,” she responded as coolly as she could. Somehow, she had to get the topic back on track. “Regardless, we have to resolve the visitation issue.”
He ran a hand over his head in frustration. “In the army we just move on and leave the past behind.”
She pointed at his leg. “That’s a lie and you know it. There’s a lot you haven’t left behind.”
“Let it go.”
“I can’t. I have to know.”
“Know what?”
Her breath strangled her as she tried to straighten her shoulders. All these years she’d wondered. Now she had the opportunity to ask him and fear held her captive. No, she had to ask. She couldn’t leave this time without knowing the truth.
“Why you left me without a word. Why did you do it, Jonas? You transferred out and never spoke to me again. Just like that. Hey, it was fun. And I was left here with a baby on the way and no one to rely on but myself.”
“You think it was easy to leave you?”
She was surprised at how he raised his voice. Somehow this was developing into an argument, but she kept it going because she thought perhaps it was the only way to get to the truth.
“That’s exactly what I think. I think that you had your fun with me, but when the call came to go, you were ready. More than ready. I think you thought of nothing more than what was in your sights. Being a sharpshooter.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong!”
She stood up, angry now because he’d never said a single word to make her think anything different. “How on earth would I know?”
The words hung in the air between them, crackling with hostility and something darker, something persuasive.
“Because of this.”
Before she could breathe, he stepped up to her, gripped her waist with his right hand and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers.
No warning. No prelude. Just mouth-to-mouth pent-up passion that made her knees turn watery and her heart pound ridiculously.
She wound her arms around his neck, kissing him back as if he were her lifeline.
He tasted the same. That was the first sensation that made it through the haze of desire in her mind. He tasted the same and he kissed the same, the two of them fitting together as if no time had passed at all. His wide hand slid from the hollow of her back to her ribs, then up, until his thumb grazed the underwire of her bra. She was helpless to stop the immediate reaction of her body, leaning into his touch, begging him to slide that thumb up over her nipple…
He did, flicking the peak, and desire shot straight to her pelvis.
She reached down and molded her hand against the bulge in his jeans, the heat of him through the denim a sexy surprise. But instead of growing more rushed, they slowed down, taking their time with exploratory caresses.
The kiss gentled, grew fuller as their tongues twined and meshed and he filled his hand with her breast. When he needed breath, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers as he pulled his hand away. She opened her eyes, marveling at seeing his lashes against his cheeks.
“Jonas,” she whispered.
He pushed her away, stepping back, in control once more, though the rapid rise and fall of his chest told her he was just as aroused as she.
“You came here for answers, Shan.” His voice was soft and rough at the same time. “And I don’t have answers. I don’t have a plan or a schedule for this. You think I left you without a thought and that’s far from the truth. But you want more of me than I can give. You always have.”
“No, I—”
“I’m Emma’s father and I won’t abandon her. But there’s not enough of me for you too. Don’t you understand that?”
“Then what the hell just happened? Maybe if you helped me understand…”
“I can’t. You’d better go.”
Her thoughts, her senses were all jumbled up and she couldn’t make heads or tails of what had just happened. “About Saturday…I’m not comfortable with you taking Emma to the air show on your own. I think it’s too soon.”
“I never meant to take her by myself. The invitation was for both of you. Although that seems to be a mistake now, considering what just happened.”
Shannyn paused, still trying to regain her balance. Ma
ybe if she could get him in another element. One more like the life he was comfortable with. Maybe then he’d open up a little, help her understand. This yo-yoing back and forth left her more confused each time. “It’s a simple outing. Let’s not make it more complicated than it has to be. If Emma agrees, we’ll both go with you.”
“If I’m going to build a relationship with her, we need to spend time together.”
“I’m sorry if me coming with the package makes it difficult.”
He smiled at her, but it wasn’t warm. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not my feelings that matter. She’ll be more secure with you there with her, too.”
Shannyn blinked. Somehow Jonas still had the ability to surprise her. His insight into Emma’s feelings, even after their argument—and their kiss—was incredibly thoughtful.
“In the future, it might be good if you asked if we were busy or if it’s a good time to visit. And I’ll do my best to accommodate.”
Jonas nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“We’re both feeling our way around, Jonas. Let’s just give it time.”
“Time,” he echoed, going to the door and opening it for her. Letting her know it was time to go even as her body still hummed from his touch.
She’d had six years of time. Six years of resenting him for leaving and six years of remembering what it was to love him.
Now he was back—and seemingly for good.
Dealing with that wasn’t anything that time could cure.
“I’ll see you Saturday,” she offered weakly, grabbing her purse.
“One o’clock,” he repeated.
When he’d shut the door behind her, she pressed her fingers to her lips. And knew that despite her best intentions, she was leaving with more questions than answers, and a need that had gone unsatisfied for too long.
Chapter 8
She’d forgotten about his therapy appointment. After Jonas had discovered Emma was his, it had seemed pointless to change therapists, and when she’d reminded him briefly about the paperwork not being completed, he’d answered with a terse “never mind.” Avoiding each other was no longer an option.