“She’s asleep,” he said quietly.
Hope glanced sideways and saw that Becky’s eyes were indeed closed, the lashes a dark crescent against her perfect skin. Hope rose and laid the sleeping child carefully into the crib, covering her with a patchwork quilt.
She felt Jake’s arm slide around her waist, and she leaned against him as they watched the shallow breaths in and out of the sleeping baby. Hope felt Jake’s hand tighten at her waist and pull her close.
“Children are such a miracle,” he said softly.
“Yes, they are.”
Hope felt Jake’s eyes on her and turned to meet his gaze. He was looking at her in a way he never had before. As an equal. As a prospective parent. She felt a swell of emotion as she realized he liked what he was seeing.
She felt his hand caress her cheek, a tender gesture of thanks. But the mere brush of his hand had caused her body to tense and coil in expectation. The sexual tension was there, as it always was between them. A palpable thing.
She felt Jake’s hand grip her waist more tightly, felt him fighting the urge to respond to the heightened physical awareness she felt in his body. She was aware of the losing battle he waged with himself as his head slowly lowered toward hers.
She kept expecting him to find the control that was always there, the control that kept him from touching her the way she yearned to be touched. But whatever tether kept his emotions contained had broken at last, and she saw in his eyes what she’d never hoped to see. Love.
He gave in to his need as his lips caressed hers. A bare touch. A fleeting taste. A kiss of wonder and discovery. A kiss that dared to offer gentleness, while tightly leashed passion waited, barely restrained.
Hope’s heart swelled with feeling, as she gave herself up to Jake’s tenderness. She turned and felt his arms surround her like steel bands, holding her tight, as though he never wanted to let her go.
He deepened the kiss, and she felt herself going under, drowning in emotions that were too powerful to be controlled.
She could feel his need. Feel his vulnerability. He wanted more than sex. He wanted someone to share his joys and sorrows. He wanted a mother for his children. He wanted a life partner.
She felt his hands on her breasts, both reverent and needy. Heard his breathing change, felt his pulse leap as his hands lowered to her hips and pulled them close. She could feel his physical need, the urgent desire to join their bodies that had been there from the first and would never, ever die.
Hope suddenly realized the power she held. The power to hurt Jake, and to hurt him badly. She had never loved him more than she did at this moment. It filled her heart to overflowing. And gave her the strength to stop him before they went too far.
“Jake, no,” she said against his lips. “Not this way.”
She felt his muscles become rigid as he fought for control. He released her abruptly and took a step back. And stared down into her eyes, confused. He’d given himself up to passion. Given himself over to her as she’d always hoped he would. And she had stopped him.
A painful knot in her throat made explanation impossible. She looked up at him with all the love she felt, hoping he would understand why she’d backed away. She barely understood herself.
She only knew she couldn’t seduce Jake. Not like this. She couldn’t rob him of his freedom by letting him take her virginity. She wanted him to marry her because he loved her. Not because he had no other choice.
Hope stepped back and looked first at the sleeping baby, then toward the youth bed where Huck was fast asleep. “I guess you don’t need me anymore tonight.”
She was going to leave. She was going home, and she wasn’t coming back.
She’d already turned away when Jake caught her wrist. “Wait. Don’t leave.”
She met his gaze and said, “This is dangerous, Jake. I need to go.”
“I want you to stay.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t a good idea.”
“Please. I need help with these two.” He smiled and glanced from Becky to Huck.
“You’ve got sisters—”
“I want you to stay,” he repeated. “We’ll be fine, Hope. This won’t happen again.”
She knew that he meant his words. That the leash was strongly knotted again and there was no chance he would lose control a second time. He wouldn’t let her see again that he loved her. And he wouldn’t touch her.
It would be torture to stay here under those circumstances. But he’d asked for her help. And it was the least she could do.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll stay. When are Colt and Jenny returning?”
“Friday,” Jake said. “The day before the wedding.”
Hope swallowed past the painful knot that refused to go away. “Till Friday, then.”
“Thanks. You can have the downstairs bedroom.”
“Fine.”
“Do you need a toothbrush or some pajamas?” he asked.
She was ashamed to admit that she had an overnight bag on the porch, that she’d planned to spend the week with him. So she said, “Yes, if you have extra.”
He turned out the light over Becky’s crib and said, “Let’s go.”
She felt his hand on the small of her back, urging her from the bedroom, and did a little hop-step to move ahead of him. She didn’t want him touching her. Not ever again.
CHAPTER SIX
AN HOUR AFTER HE’D SAID GOOD-NIGHT to Hope, Jake pulled some jeans over his long underwear and crept down the stairs, avoiding the spots he knew were sure to creak. He crept into the living room, which was lit only by the banked coals in the fireplace. He quietly stirred the ashes and added a log, watching the fire come to life.
Then he slouched in one of the big leather chairs in front of the fireplace, laid his head back and crossed his ankle over his knee. He wanted a drink, but he wasn’t about to turn on a light. Hope was sleeping down the hall.
He wasn’t sure what madness had caused him to ask Hope to stay the week. He’d come close to doing something irrevocable tonight. He’d surrendered, given in to the urge to touch, to taste, to hold her in his arms. He had no idea why Hope had put on the brakes. But he was grateful she had. God help him, he was getting married in a week to another woman.
But his troubling thoughts were all about Hope.
He’d spent long hours over the past three years wondering if he ever could have made a marriage to Hope work. Wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t gotten himself engaged so quickly to Amanda. He’d convinced himself his fascination with Hope Butler would eventually fade. He’d often reminded himself of the pain he’d endured when his first wife had run off, remembering the note she’d left him telling how unhappy she’d become.
He couldn’t bear to go through anything like that again.
So he’d told himself he would get over Hope. And just as important, that Hope would get over him. But the truth was, the attraction was still there on his side, stronger than ever. And if last night was any indication, Hope still wanted him. So why had she pulled away?
He heard the floor moan and realized Hope must be up. He remained still, knowing that he wouldn’t be visible if she was only on her way to the kitchen or the bathroom. A moment later she stood beside the empty leather chair across from him.
“Oh,” she said, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know you were here.”
He sat up straight. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said brusquely.
“Me, neither,” she said.
She was wearing the long johns he’d loaned her. They should have made her look shapeless, but she’d left the buttons at the neck undone, and he could see a hint of cleavage. And because they were white, he could see the shadow of her areolas. His body was responding to her even as his mind fought temptation.
“Mind if I join you?” she said.
He could send her back to bed, but he doubted either one of them would sleep. Why not sit and talk? “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair beside him.
She grabbed the fringed green wool blanket that lay over the back of the chair and wrapped herself in it as she sat cross-legged. He didn’t know whether to feel grateful or regretful that she was so completely covered.
He slouched down in his chair and put his ankle back up on his knee and listened to the fire crackle, waiting for her to speak. To his surprise, she didn’t fill the silence. He heard her shifting in the chair, seeking a more cozy position. When he glanced at her, she was staring into the fire, the blanket pulled up to cover half her face.
He wasn’t sure how long they sat together in silence. He only knew it felt comfortable to be with her. Which was surprising, since he was completely aware of her physically. That is, aware of desiring her. Of wanting to pick her up in his arms and hold her. Of wanting to lay her down in front of the fireplace and put himself inside her.
“What was it like, being adopted?” she asked.
The question surprised him into answering more frankly than he might have wished. “Terrifying.”
The blanket dropped from her face and she turned in the chair so she was facing him. “How so?”
He realized he couldn’t leave that single word hanging, so he said, “I was in a lot of foster homes before the Whitelaws found me.”
“Were your foster parents mean to you?”
He snorted. “Mean? That word’s too simple to describe— You don’t really want to hear this,” he said.
“So you thought the Whitelaws might be mean, too,” she said, ignoring his attempt to end the discussion.
“I counted on it,” he shot back. “So I was as nasty to them as I expected them to be in return.”
“But the Whitelaws weren’t like all the others,” she concluded.
“No,” he said softly. “They weren’t.”
He thought of how he’d mistrusted their kindness, fought their attempts at affection, broken their rules, defied them at every turn. And how Zach and Rebecca Whitelaw had remained committed to loving him. He’d flinched every time one of them came near him, expecting a blow that never came. He’d stared at them from narrowed eyes when they offered love instead of contempt or condemnation.
He was the fifth child they’d adopted, and he didn’t understand why Zach and Rebecca wanted him when they already had Jewel and Rolleen and Avery and Frannie. He’d expected the other four kids to resent him, to want him gone. It had happened before, in foster homes where the children of his foster parents had made it clear he was there on sufferance, and that he didn’t belong and never would.
It hadn’t been that way in the Whitelaw household. Zach and Rebecca had treated him like all the others. And the others had treated him like a real brother.
It had taken a year for him to feel like he was one of them, a year before he had finally wanted to call Zach “Dad” and Rebecca “Mom.” He could remember how hard it had been the first time to get the words out. The lump in his throat had hurt, and he’d swallowed to try to get rid of it, before he’d said the words on Christmas morning. His gift to them.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” he’d said to Rebecca. And then to Zach, “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
Rebecca had teared up right away, and she’d hugged him hard. He’d blinked a couple thousand times to keep his own tears at bay, and gritted his teeth to keep his chin from wobbling. He hadn’t wanted them to see what a mess he was.
At last he’d had to face Zach. His own eyes had rounded in wonder, because Zach’s eyes were also brimmed with tears. Zach had held out his arms and Jake had slammed into him, holding him tight around the waist, as though this strong but gentle man was his only anchor in a raging storm.
“What happened to your biological parents?” Hope asked.
The question jolted Jake from his reverie, and he realized his chest felt tight and his throat was raw with emotion. “They died,” he said curtly.
“How?”
He should have known Hope wouldn’t leave it alone. He never talked about what had happened. He wasn’t sure why he was tempted to tell her. Suddenly, the bitter words started coming, and he couldn’t seem to stop them. “My father shot my mother and then killed himself. She was getting a divorce, and he didn’t want her to leave him. I was six. I found them when I came home from school.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. “How awful!” An instant later she was on her knees in front of him, the blanket abandoned. She shoved his ankle off his knee and crouched between his legs, her hands on his thighs, her eyes on his, full of horror and sympathy.
Her look of pain brought back the horrendous memories, and he reached out to her, seeking the compassion she offered.
He set his hands under her arms and drew her up and into his lap. She curled up against him, her cheek against his chest, his chin atop her head, her softness and warmth a much-needed balm for the cold inside him. He held her tight, not wanting to let her go, not wanting to let go of the comfort she offered.
For a long time, comfort was all he felt. Inevitably, he became aware of her soft, rounded breasts against his chest. The feel of her curved fanny cupped in his palm. The silky softness and the flowery smell of her hair. And her moist, warm breath against his throat. His arousal grew, and he knew she must be aware of it, sitting on his lap like she was.
He knew for sure when she tipped her head up and her eyes sought his in the light from the fire. Her pupils were dilated, her mouth was open slightly and she was breathing in short pants. Her lips seemed swollen, even though he hadn’t kissed her yet.
That was easy to remedy. He lowered his mouth and pressed his lips gently against hers, feeling the softness, the willingness to give, the yearning. He kissed the sides of her mouth, her cheeks, her temple, and finally her closed eyelids. Then he captured her mouth with his. And found the solace it seemed he’d been seeking all his life.
He kissed her lingeringly, letting his tongue dip into the sweetness of her mouth, savoring the taste of her, enjoying the textures, feeling the tumult within him build. His hand cupped her breast, and he felt the nipple peak beneath his palm. He slid his hand down under her shirt, seeking the warm flesh at her waist, then slid it up to cup her naked breast.
He lifted his head when he heard her gasp and stared into her stunned eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Nobody’s ever touched me like that,” she said. “I never knew—”
“Sonofabitch,” he muttered under his breath.
He shoved her off his lap, holding on to her as he rose himself, so she wouldn’t tumble onto the floor. He could clearly see her peaked nipples through the soft cotton and felt his body harden, when he’d thought he was already as hard as he could get. Her eyes looked dazed and confused.
He gripped her hands tightly and said, “We can’t do this, Hope. I’m sorry.”
Her feelings were transparent, but she said the words anyway. “I love you, Jake.”
“That’s the hell of it,” he said. His throat felt raw again. “I don’t want to hurt you, Hope. I think maybe you should go home. We can call your dad—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. She pulled her hands free and took a step back. “I was offering comfort, Jake. Things just got—” She shoved a hand through her tousled hair. “Got a little out of control.”
Jake snorted. “Any more out of control and you’d be lying on the floor and I’d be inside you.”
He saw the flush rise on her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes. “I wouldn’t have minded...or blamed you.”
“That’s precisely the point,” Jake said irritably. “I’m more attracted to you than I want to be, Hope. It isn’t safe for you here.”
She
looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. “I know I can trust you not to do anything I wouldn’t want.”
His lips twisted ruefully. “That’s precisely the problem. I can’t trust you to stop me. And left to my own inclination, I wouldn’t stop.”
“It’s not too late for us,” Hope said. “You could talk to Miss Carter—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Jake snapped. “It isn’t going to happen.” He rubbed his eyes with his palms. “God, Hope. Why don’t you just give up and go home?”
Her shoulders slumped and her chin dropped to her chest. When she looked up at him, the light was gone from her eyes. He thought she was going to leave, and he felt an ache inside. He steeled himself for what she had to say. But she surprised him.
“I think I should stay and help with Huck and Becky,” she said. “Otherwise, you’re not going to be able to get everything done that needs to get done...before the wedding. I promise I won’t allow myself—or you—to be tempted into anything like what just happened.”
He frowned. He ought to call her father and have him come right over and take Hope home, where she was safe from him. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get help with Colt’s kids from one of his siblings.
But Hope was already here. And willing. And she’d promised to help him keep his distance.
On the other hand, it would only take one lapse for something irrevocable to happen.
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” he said.
“We’ll be fine, Jake,” she said.
“I’m going out with Amanda tomorrow night.” Hope might as well know that up front. “Are you sure you still want to stay and baby-sit?”
She swallowed hard. “You have a date? With your fiancée?”
“I’ve been busy the past couple of weeks. We haven’t had much time alone, so we made plans to get together this weekend.”
“Would you rather be here by yourselves?” Hope asked.
Jake chuckled. “With Huck and Becky around, we’d hardly be alone. And we need time to talk. What do you say?”
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