She wished Lance wouldn’t smile at her like that. It made her remember things best forgotten. “All right.” Jen refolded the note, inserting it into the pocket of her purse. She’d find a better place for it when she got home.
He winced when he got up. “My doctor told me I’d have knee trouble when I got older. I didn’t plan on getting older quite this soon.”
“I hope nothing else is having trouble.” She hadn’t meant to say that. Eight years of celibacy must be getting to her.
His eyes never left her face. “Not that I’m aware of.”
That was another thing she’d loved about Lance. She knew he’d loved her body. He used to worship it every chance he got. But he never talked to her breasts. So many men never let their eyes get above her bra line.
She’d refused him last night. Now that she was back in her own time . . . “Perhaps we should do a test run.” She had not said that. “Later.”
His eyes heated. “I’m ready whenever you are, Guinevere.”
“Stop calling me Gui . . .” Her lips melted into his kiss.
Her brain scolded her. Stop it. You’re older. Wiser. More mature. But she didn’t feel that way. It there was one thing she’d learned . . . “Live in the moment,” she whispered against his lips.”
“Excellent advice.” His tongue dueled with hers in a game they both could win. Vaguely, in the background, Jen heard a door slam.
Lance must have heard it too. His hands unhooked her bra strap.
“Not here,” she whispered, reveling in the feel of his hands on her breasts. “I’m too old for desks.”
“Deal with it.” He pulled her to the floor cradling her body on top of his. He had her out of her dress in seconds. The feel of his lips on her breast sent liquid fire coursing through her. Her hand went between them, questing for the erection she could feel against her. His breath came and went. Harsh, warm, rasping.
“Not fair.” She rolled off him and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Need made her fingers clumsy.
“Let me.” He pulled her hands away, kissed them, then swiftly unbuttoned his shirt.
She reached for his zipper. “I need to feel you.” She found his warm, pulsing length. Caressed it with her fingers.
She heard his indrawn breath of sweet agony. “Yes!”
His fingers knew exactly how to send her over the edge. He covered her scream with a kiss. Then thrust home.
So long. It had been so long. But her body remembered. He set up a rhythm, which pleased them both. Slow at first, building up energy till she exploded into mindless ecstasy.
With a groan of completion, he collapsed on top of her. Holding his weight off her with his forearms, he rolled over and lifted her on top, cradling her in his arms.
What have I done? Her lips quirked. And why hadn’t she done it last night when there was a bed? How soon could they do it again?
“I can feel your mind working.” Lance’s voice sounded indolent with satisfaction.
Jen supported herself on her forearms so she could look into his eyes. “I can feel your something else working.”
Lance’s eyes widened. “You’re right. I haven’t felt this ready so soon since . . .”
“Since when?”
He closed his eyes. He was shutting her out again.
All desire left her. She rolled away. “That’s all right. It’s been twenty years. I haven’t exactly been a monk myself.”
When he opened his eyes, they were full of tears. “Since you, Guinevere. Since you.”
Jen sat up. Anger warred with distress. “Are you telling me you haven’t slept with anyone since me?”
“No. I had a couple of affairs and one relationship which lasted three years. But it was for the sex and for companionship. A man gets lonely.”
So does a woman. Wasn’t her marriage to Peter a legalized affair for sex and companionship? Jen reached for his hand and pulled him up. “We’d better get dressed or we’re never going to make it to lunch. Peek out the door. If the coast is clear, we’ll make a run for the shower.”
Lance’s jaw dropped. “Bloody Hell! I completely forgot about Mrs. Flannery. Is this her day?”
“Yes.”
Lance grabbed his clothes and peered through the doorway. The sound of U2 ‘s Beautiful Day echoed from the kitchen. Mrs. Flannery’s voice accompanied them. Lance pulled on his pants, and motioned to Jennifer. “Run. I’ll cover you.”
“Do or die, together.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him up the stairs with her. They sprinted for the bathroom.
“One shower, I think?” Jen reached in and turned on the taps. She adored Jeremy’s bathroom. All those lovely taps spraying all the most important places. “Come on in. The water’s fine.”
Their bodies were different. Her breasts were fuller and more responsive to gravity. No amount of exercise could take away the rounded shape of her formerly concave stomach. The Change came with a price.
His body had filled out. No longer the whip-thin muscles of the oarsman. His chest was broader, his stomach . . . She poked him. “You’ve got a bit of a belly.”
“Look who’s talking.” His hands caressed her stomach. He looked down. “Seems you’re no longer a natural redhead. I see a hint of white peeking . . .”
She wrapped her arms around him and soul-kissed the words away.
He maneuvered her between the jets . . .
~ ~ ~
Jen toweled her hair briskly, cursing Jeremy’s lack of a dryer. He was such a man.
Lance buttoned up a fresh shirt he’d borrowed from Jeremy’s closet. “It doesn’t seem fair. I’ve got clean clothes and you’re stuck with yesterday’s. Shall we stop at your place so you can change?”
Jen regarded him thoughtfully. Would three times be too much to hope for at their age? “Yes. But only to change clothes. I’m starving.”
“Right. Starving.” Lance stole a quick kiss. His arms wrapped around her.
“Hello.”
Jen looked over Lance’s shoulder into her brother’s startled eyes.
“What’s this?”
Jen hid her head on Lance’s chest. This wasn’t happening.
Chapter 9
Her brother’s brows arched. “Karma’s a right old sod, isn’t it?”
Jeremy’s conversational tone didn’t fool Jen. He was loving every minute of this. She decided the only defense was attack. “Hello, brother dear. I thought you were somewhere else.”
“You thought wrong.”
Lance turned around and faced Jeremy. “Apparently, you weren’t here yesterday or this might have been avoided. Congratulations. I ‘m glad to see it works. But there are still some glitches to iron out.”
“What are you doing here, Lance? I got an email from you in Brussels this morning.” Jeremy’s gaze moved from Lance to Jen. “I thought you said we were never to speak of He Who Must Not Be Named again. Looks to me you’ve done a damn sight more than speak.”
Jen moved away from Lance, folding her arms defensively. “Things changed.” They’d promised to let Kat tell her father. Kat had a right to confess before he killed her, which from the steam coming out of his ears seemed very possible.
Lance put his arm around Jen’s shoulder. “We were going to lunch. Care to join us?”
“The lab was open,” Jeremy said abruptly. “It’s never supposed to be unlocked. Suppose Mrs. Flannery got in there with her dusting spray? Were you showing Jennifer our work?”
Lance’s expression was a study in conflict. Subterfuge was not his style. “Look, Jeremy. We have to wait for Kathryn. We promised.”
“Oh, hell!” Jeremy turned to Jen. “She let you in. She told me she wanted to do something special for your birthday, but it never occurred to me she’d−”
“Calm down, Jeremy,” Jen said. “We’re all fine. ‘All’s well that ends well', etcetera, etcetera. Don’t make a tempest in a teapot.”
“You’re quoting,” Jeremy said. “And you only quote when you’ve got something to hide.”
Jen could see Jeremy make the connection.
His eyes narrowed. “She used it! Where did you go?”
Lance shrugged. “He’s guessed most of it. 1988. I ran into them when I went to pick up some papers you left for me.”
Jeremy’s terrified expression echoed what she’d felt when she realized what Kat had done, so of course, she lashed out. “Obviously, I didn’t know what she was doing since you never told me what you were working on. No one ever sees you unless you come to one of my plays, or a family dinner. Kat probably did it as a bid for attention. If you paid more attention to her and less to your work—”
“Stop it, Guinevere. Jeremy was a very good father all the years I knew him. I doubt that’s changed. And Kathryn loves his work.”
Jen deflated. She sat on the bed next to Jeremy and took his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m better than I used to be, but ‘scared’ gets me going. I wasn’t sure if we were going to get back.”
Jeremy hooked little fingers with her. “Pax. Now please tell me exactly what happened.”
When he heard about Kat becoming a child again, his face lost all color. “I haven’t tried to go backward yet. I’ve thought about it, of course. Because of Rob.”
The day Rob had been killed by terrorists in Somalia was a black memory for all three of them. Of course, Jeremy would have wanted to try to change it.
“Based on Kat’s experience, I can postulate one can’t go back to any year in which one hasn’t reached physical maturity because you will regress to your age at that year.” Jeremy exhaled a sigh. “I suppose I should be grateful she didn’t go back to infancy.”
Lance frowned. “But you told me Sherry came back with all of her memories intact.”
“Sherry came back to a time when she was already an adult.”
“What good is time travel if you can’t use it for fear of becoming a child or winking out of existence?” Lance asked.
“Actually, I was about to do an experiment myself.” Jeremy glanced at Lance wryly. “As soon as you got back from Brussels. The real you.”
“What’s wrong with the 1988 me?”
“Nothing, really. Here’s my hypothesis.” Within seconds, they were head deep in a mathematical discussion Jen had no hope of following.
“Earth to brains,” she intoned in her best Robot. “Stomach needs sustenance.”
They both looked at her as if she were a stray computer chip. So she waved her arms and tried again. “Refuel. Refuel.”
Lance blinked. “Lunch. Right. Where did you want to go?”
Jen knew a lost cause when she saw it. “Never mind. Why don’t you send out for pizza? I’m going home.” Jen’s heels clicked on the stairs with more force than necessary.
So much for a third time.
Chapter 10
Lance watched her go, feeling like a complete clod. They’d left her out again. Jen was right. They’d done that a lot in the old days. Carried on conversations over her head. He remembered what it felt like to be the odd man out. Why had he done it to his wife? He wanted to go after her. Apologize.
“Where’s Kat?” Jeremy asked abruptly. “I’ve got to talk to her.”
“She said something about a lecture.” Lance followed Jeremy back down to the lab. “If you’ve never tried to go back, how in the name of Merlin did Kat manage it?”
“I have no bloody idea. And I’m afraid to touch the damn thing until she explains what she did. Jeremy grabbed a second keyboard from the jumble of cords and computer parts on his worktable. “What’s going on between you and Jen?”
Lance kept his face blank. “That’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“I don’t remember 1988 very clearly. Time flows together for me.” Jeremy’s lips curved briefly. “But I’m pretty sure you two hated each other.”
He’d never hated Jen. It was easier to make her disappear from his mind than to face the wreck he’d made of their relationship. “She’s changed. I’ve changed.”
“Damn right you have. You have no idea who you are now.”
Jeremy sounded truly pissed.
Lance felt his neck muscles go tight. “I couldn’t have changed that much.”
Jeremy turned to face him. “You got engaged last week. To Aileen Alworth.”
A wave of unreality washed over him. He’d been alone for years. “Who is she?”
“You met her at The Bart conference four years ago. Nice woman. She’s a statistics expert. You’ve been dating on and off, taking her out to dinner, partnering her to the theatre. She came with us to see Private Lives. Naturally, you didn’t want to go backstage. You and Jen haven’t spoken since your divorce.”
Lance tried to picture a woman he’d never met. Hopeless. “Did Jen know?”
“Of course not. You are He Who Must Not Be Named. Did you know she’d remarried?”
“She mentioned it.”
Jeremy quirked an eyebrow.
Lance felt like his department head had called him on the carpet. “We’ve been together for twenty-four hours. Naturally, we had some conversation.”
“Good to know.” Jeremy’s face was devoid of expression.
He was engaged. The pain lodged under his breastbone in a sharp, steady ache. Their encounter in 1988 hadn’t changed anything. Somehow they’d ruined it again. Their second chance was a fizzle. What had they done this time?
“Is Jen involved with someone?”
“I don’t think so. It’s not something she’d ever talk about with me, but Kat’s not mentioned it. Those two are as tight as ticks.” Jeremy sat at the computer. “I’m sorry. I’d like you two back together. But, to quote Jen’s favorite source, ‘the time is out of joint.’”
He couldn’t stay here knowing it was all going to go horribly wrong again. “You have to send me back.”
“I can’t. I don’t know what she did.”
Kat opened the door to the lab and froze. “Daddy?” She held her books in front of her chest like a shield. “I thought you were still in Los Angeles.”
“It didn’t work out.”
Lance caught the flash of pain in Jeremy’s eyes.
Jeremy grabbed his daughter by the shoulders. “What in blazes were you thinking?” He dropped his arms, wrapping her in a fierce hug. “Kathryn, you could have killed yourself and Jen.”
Kat’s eyes welled up with tears. “I wanted to give Jen something special for her birthday. I was going to show her the future.”
Jeremy took the book bag out of her hand and led her to the computer. “Show me what you did.”
Kat hiccoughed. “I put in the coordinates just like you did, and I executed it. I thought we would go forward to 2006.”
“You must have done something different.” Jeremy sounded like he was grinding his teeth.
Kat rubbed her fingers over the smooth plastic of the mouse as if it were the bit of silk she carried in her pocket for security.
Jeremy massaged his daughter’s tense shoulders. “Kitty-Kat, somehow you made a breakthrough. I’m not mad. I need to discover what you know.”
“I don’t know what I did differently,” Kat whimpered. “I called up what you did when you took me forward. Maybe my fingers slipped.”
Jeremy sighed. “Maybe they did. Just like Newton and the apple. Maybe if I dropped an apple on you, you’d remember.”
Kat swiveled her chair around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I wanted Jen to meet—” She clamped her lips shut.
“Who?” Lance as
ked. He had no right to feel jealous of someone Guinevere might meet in the future. No right at all.
“Just someone I met when Daddy took me to the future.” Kat’s words spilled out, probably trying to avoid any more questions. “I learned so much. You can do so much more with computers in 2006 and the program is . . . But I’m not allowed to tell because telling would change history. But I’ve done it anyway.”
“Right,” Jeremy said, lips tight. “We’ll fix it. I just need more time.”
Lance nodded. Jeremy had to fix it. He couldn’t stay in this future. He didn’t want to be anywhere near his future self, the silly ass who’d gotten engaged to the wrong woman.
Where was Jen?
Chapter 11
Jen concentrated on slitting the envelopes of innocent birthday cards with the dagger letter opener her Romeo and Juliet cast had given her. She would not think about Lance and the last twenty-four hours.
Her buzzer sounded. It sounded like someone was leaning on it. “All right. I’m coming.”
Lance stood there looking grim. Before she could ask him how he’d gotten there, he pulled her into his arms. His kiss demanded, gave, overpowered her senses. Her world narrowed to the feel of his lips against hers.
Her knees buckled. Only the iron grip of his arms kept her upright. Why had they ever let this get away? They broke for air. She stroked her fingers along his prickly jaw, loving the feel of it. She looked into his eyes and her stomach dropped. He looked like his world had fallen in.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and caught her for another kiss.
She put her hands against his chest. “Where’s Jeremy?”
“With Kathryn.”
“Tell me.”
“No. Later.” He fingered the shoulder of her dress. “Reminds me of the dress you wore the first time we dated.”
Maybe This Time (A Second Chance Romance) Page 5