by JM Stewart
“I’m asking you to trust me, Beck. Telling you what I’m doing would ruin the surprise.” The knowing tone in his voice told her that despite her silence, he knew exactly what she was thinking, knew the thoughts she couldn’t stop. The knowledge didn’t quite relax the knot in her stomach, but it went a long way.
She opened her eyes, firmly ignoring the fear caught in the tangle in her chest, and focused instead on the night ahead. That’s what mattered right then. “Where are we going, Jack?”
“You’ll see. The flowers were a hint. I’ll be home at six, sweetheart.”
Hanging up the phone, however, Becca’s stomach twisted with nervous tension. The closer the date became, the more panic swelled within her. The time was fast approaching when she’d have to make a very serious decision. Their relationship was moving too quickly. She enjoyed the here and now, the new developments between them. She didn’t want to have to think about her choice, let alone make it. Not yet.
Except she had a sinking suspicion their date would set things in motion. Jackson was going through a lot of trouble for a simple night out. If she knew him, he’d have questions she didn’t know if she had the answers to. Like whether or not she could give him, and their relationship, another try beyond tonight. What if their relationship still didn’t work? What if they ended up back where they’d already been?
***
“Lila was right. You look incredible in that dress.”
Jackson appeared in the doorway behind her. Having been focused on her reflection, Becca jumped, her heart hammering as she met his gaze in the mirror across from her. She’d heard the front door open and close, but she’d been so focused on getting dressed she hadn’t heard his approach. Her nerves had been scattered all day. After dropping Allie off with Malia and Evan after school, she’d come home to get ready for their date. Now his sudden appearance behind her and the husky tone of his voice had every nerve on edge. The hunger in his eyes had heat rolling through her system on a river of need.
A sense of excitement and joy bubbled up along with it. She’d been waiting on pins and needles for him to get home. Since she’d left the dojo at three, doubt had nagged at the back of her mind. A small part of her waited for the other shoe to drop, expecting the phone to ring, sure he’d call to tell her a meeting ran late.
Yet, there he stood, right on time, exactly when he said he’d be home. She smiled, half tempted to throw her arms around him. She wasn’t sure she had the words to tell him what that meant to her. His thoughtfulness went a long way to easing the doubt and the fear that still held her bound. If she touched him, though, they’d never leave the house. The heat in his eyes had been there all week. The man had her body humming on a high nothing could cure, save him, naked beneath her. If she slipped her arms around him, kissed him the way she wanted to, this date would never happen.
Tonight was a test, a big one, and she had to know the results. So she turned back to her reflection, smoothing her trembling hands down her skirt. “Lila picked this out, huh?”
Somehow, she wasn’t surprised. Jackson’s package ended up being a dress, along with a pair of gorgeous heels. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress, and she had to admit, wearing one made her feel a bit outside of herself. The garment was beautiful, though. With a tucked waist and flared skirt, the dress gave her boyish figure the illusion of curves. It had come with a pair of stilettos she’d probably end up breaking her neck in, but for the first time in months, she felt like a woman. Pretty, even.
Jackson returned her smile in the mirror. “She helped. I had something a bit different picked out, but she said you’d feel more comfortable in this one.” His gaze swept the length of her. “You really do look beautiful, Becca.”
“Thank you.” She turned and eyed the whole of him, taking in his dark, fitted tux. Her hands itched to touch him. She was all too aware that barely a few months ago, she’d have resisted. Tonight, she had to give herself permission to do exactly that and then some, so after a moment’s hesitation, she ran her fingers along the right lapel of his jacket. She had to give her all tonight. For their daughter. For all of them. Any doubt would be squelched. For this one night, she’d allow herself to fall in love with him, because if this didn’t work . . .
A lump of fear rose in her throat, her hands trembling over his tie, the black fabric stark against the white of his shirt.
Jackson’s hand slid over hers, his fingers warm and smooth. “You all right?”
She hitched a shoulder but couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze yet. “Just nervous.” She ran her hand along his left arm, the cast hard beneath the soft material of the jacket sleeve. “I’m surprised you were able to get your arm into this. Is this what kept you late?”
“Yes. I had the jacket and shirt altered to fit the cast. Picked the tux up on my way home. She had to do some last-minute alterations.” He took a small step forward, closing the miniscule space between them. Just enough that his body touched hers and his heat infused her. “You’re not the only one who’s nervous.”
The undercurrent of heat in his eyes made her knees wobbly, but the emotion in his voice, the meaning behind his words, got to her. A sense of familiarity bred between them, yet was filled with the newness of the moment. They were rediscovering each other, and clearly, she wasn’t alone in her fear.
The notion made her forget time and place. The warmth of his body pulled her in like the drag of an ocean undertow. The tenderness in his eyes called to her like a beacon on a dark night, and she leaned into him. He slid his hand over the curve of her hip and around to her back, the warmth of his palm radiating through the thin material of her dress.
Becca dragged in a ragged breath. God, she’d forgotten how potent he could be. She couldn’t deny it. She’d missed him, had missed the passion between them. The last time they made love, they’d merely given in to desire, to that unquenchable lust. Right then she craved something slower, softer. This last week had made her realize how much she missed being wrapped in him. All those small things. Lying in his arms, everything always seemed right with the world. She was safe and secure. She wasn’t sure anymore if those times were merely deception . . . or the only times they were truly open with each other.
Whatever the reason, she had to discover the truth. And looking into those blue eyes, she knew. If they made love again, the exchange wouldn’t be like the last time. His eyes gleamed with the promise of more, something deeper, and she had to admit she ached for it.
Jackson brushed a soft, lingering kiss across her mouth, took a step back, and offered his arm. “I think we better go before I’m tempted to forget my plans altogether and drag you upstairs.”
Desire swirled hot and heady around her. She managed to nod and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. He led her through the house and out onto the front porch. Waiting in the long driveway sat a gleaming black limousine, complete with a driver who held the back door open.
The night itself was beautiful. In the midfifties, it was unusually warm for this time of year. The rain had cleared and the clouds opened up, giving them a peek here and there of stars, twinkling and brilliant against the black backdrop of the evening sky. The limo seated in the driveway only added to the magic of the night. She felt like Cinderella. When the clock stuck midnight, would the limo turn back into a pumpkin? Would her Prince Charming disappear?
Squelching the nervous thought, she turned a raised brow at Jackson. “A limo?”
If he was nervous, he sure didn’t show it. His mouth curled into a satisfied smile, and he winked. “I don’t do anything halfway, sweetheart. You ought to know that by now.”
She stepped forward, climbing into the back of the limo. The chauffeur smiled and tipped his hat. Sitting back in the luxurious leather seat, the whole experience suddenly took on a whole other level. Jackson was right. He didn’t do anything halfway. Somehow the gallant gesture st
ill surprised her.
“Where are we going?” She glanced around the space. She was surrounded by luxury she’d never seen growing up. The interior was done in black leather, with low, intimate lighting. To her right sat a fully stocked bar, complete with a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, and across from her was a television. She might as well have walked into another world.
Jackson settled beside her, appearing far more at ease in the luxury than she felt. He grew up with things like this. She was completely out of her element, a thought which only added to the nervousness tangled in her stomach.
He turned to smile at her, eyes dancing in playful admonishment. “You still haven’t figured out where we’re going? I thought for sure the flowers would remind you.” He swept his hand in the air, indicating the space around them. “The limo was a hint as well.”
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. Okay, he had her on that one. She was stumped.
She shot him a hopeful smile. “Give me a hint?”
“And miss the expression on your face when you finally figure it out?” He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
Something cracked inside of her. Maybe it was the thrill of the evening, of living in the moment and allowing herself to enjoy being with him, but as the limo eased into motion, a surge of boldness hit her. The only way to really know where their relationship was headed was to jump in with both feet. If she couldn’t heed her advice to Ceci, that made her a hypocrite. At this point, it was only fear of the past repeating itself that held her back, and she was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a coward. So she closed her eyes, sent up a silent prayer that tonight wouldn’t go POOF! in the end, and jumped into the deep end of the pool.
“You’re not the only one who can play dirty, Tex.” At this point, every limb seemed to be shaking. From nervousness. From need. But she grabbed the first idea to flit through her head and ran with it. She took a deep breath, drummed up every ounce of courage she could muster, and shot him a secretive smile. “I happen to know places on your body that make you forget your name.”
She recalled a night a few weeks ago, when he whispered very similar words in her ear.
Jackson stared, one blond brow arching in surprise. Becca held her breath, hoping, praying, he understood. It was a bold declaration, one she wouldn’t have said even two months ago. She hadn’t been this flirty with him in over a year.
When warmth and tenderness filled his gaze, she allowed herself to breathe again. In that small space of the darkened car, a subtle acknowledgement slipped between them. His eyes narrowed, challenging her, and he held his hand out from his body.
“Feel free to try, sweetheart.” His playful tone mocked her bold statement. “My lips are sealed.”
Refusing to allow doubt to talk her out of it, she grabbed hold of the joy bubbling in her tummy and turned toward him. She shifted in the seat and, lifting her skirt out of the way, straddled his lap.
“You sure about that?” As she settled herself over the growing bulge in his slacks, an amazing sense of freedom filled her chest, leaving her breathless and giddy.
Jackson let out a soft curse. His eyes slid closed and he dropped his head back against the seat. “You can torture me all you like.” His voice strained, matching the torturous expression on his face. “I’m still not telling.”
“Not even if I do this?” She leaned forward, careful not to press too hard against his sore ribs or his arm, and traced the seam of his lips with her tongue.
A quiet, ragged exhalation left his mouth, one corner lifting. “Nope.”
“How about this?” Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she leaned in again, flicking her tongue over his earlobe this time.
As hoped, a tremor ran through him. His warm palm slid over the curve of her bare thigh, his fingers trembling against her skin. “Oh, now you’re not playing fair.”
“Tell me where we’re going, Jack.” Becca scraped her teeth over the soft flesh of his right earlobe. Because she could. Because she’d forgotten how sexy he could be, how much she used to love watching him come apart. She was light and gloriously free, flying on wings nothing could touch, and she intended to enjoy every moment of it.
He groaned, a sound of lament and agony, and the fingers on her thigh curled into her skin. “Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.”
This statement was less playful and a whole lot more honest, and Becca’s bravery faltered. Her breathing hitched, her limbs trembling with an overdose of adrenaline, need, and fear. Had she gone too far? Was she moving too quickly? Damn it. She didn’t know how to do this anymore.
She sat back on his knees and frowned, suddenly unsure of herself. “I’m sorry. I only meant to tease. We always used to do that, tease and play. I thought maybe it would loosen me up a bit. I’m so nervous. There’s so much riding on this and I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go so far.”
“I’m not complaining, sweetheart.” His eyes opened, and his hand stroked further up her thigh, inching beneath her dress. “God knows I ache to make love to you, but here in this limo isn’t where I had planned.”
Her mind filled with his whispered promise in the kitchen a week ago now. “When I do say those words, I’m going to whisper them in your ear. Over and over. While I hold you tight in my arms and make love to you. And you’re going to say them back.”
She drew in a shaky breath. The very thought flooded her with warmth, all of it pooling between her thighs. “What do you have planned?”
“You really want to know?” Jackson’s voice was a husky rumble between them, but his gaze searched hers.
“Only if you want to tell me.” She slid off his lap into the seat beside him and laid her head against his shoulder. “You went through a lot of trouble for this. I don’t want to ruin it.”
His head settled against the top of hers, his voice a low hum between them. “Think about it, sweetheart. Besides our wedding, when was the last time I took you for a ride in a limo?”
She bit her lip as she searched her memories. There was only one time she could think of. “The only other limo ride I remember is our first date.”
He caught her hand in his, where it rested in her lap, and threaded their fingers. “Now you’re getting it.”
The thought slipped inside and she glanced out the window, watching the scenery blur by as she let his suggestion roll around in her mind. First date? What did they do on their first date? A green road sign shot past her, announcing the turnoff for Seattle’s Interstate 5, heading north, catching her attention. Wait a minute . . . they were headed for Seattle?
And that’s when it hit her, where they were going. That night, seven years ago now, flooded her thoughts, and she jerked her head up, meeting Jackson’s gaze. He smiled, the look in his eyes tender and amused. Like he knew she’d finally figured out his surprise. And in his smile, the memory rose. A romantic French restaurant seated along the waterfront, overlooking Puget Sound. The roses. The limo. Which meant after the restaurant came the dancing. . . .
“You’re re-creating our first date?” Becca blinked at him, stunned by the thought.
Pleasure illuminated his eyes. “I told you . . . I want us to remember a time when things were good.”
The gesture quickly overwhelmed her, and tears flooded her eyes. “Oh, Jack . . .”
He pressed his nose to hers, his eyes shining with an emotion she’d be stupid not to recognize. Love. “You thought I’d forgotten.”
She bit her bottom lip, hard, in a vain attempt to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks, and nodded. The very notion made her want to weep. With joy. With stunned surprise. It was such a sweet gesture. She wasn’t even sure if he remembered that night anymore. After all, she’d assumed he’d forgotten their last anniversary. But this? This was . . . incredible.
Jackson pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth, soft an
d slow, lingering with the promise of more to come. Then he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her tight against his side, and rested his head on the top of hers. “I remember every detail of our first date. One of the best nights of my life. This is a new start for us, sweetheart. I wanted to do it right, to show you I remembered, that it meant more to me than I’d allowed you to believe, and I could only think of one way.”
She prayed he was right. This date could make or break their relationship. If they couldn’t make it work this time, she’d have to let him go again. She wasn’t certain anymore if she could do that. She needed this to work. For all of them.
***
“Just try one bite. Once you get over the squeamish part, they’re really quite delicious.” Jackson held the forked bite out to Becca. Across the small table, her brow puckered, her face twisted in a disgusted frown. He couldn’t help but laugh. She’d given that same look the first time, too.
The restaurant all around them was quiet, a low hum of conversation creating an intimate atmosphere. The soft lighting from the lamp above them added a glow to her skin. She was so damned beautiful. Lila was right. She looked spectacular in that dress. Part of him yearned to forget dinner altogether, except he was enjoying himself too much.
The evening was going well. Far better than he’d hoped. Somewhere over the course of dinner, her nerves had eased, and they’d fallen into something more comfortable than a favorite pair of jeans, and every bit as warm and reassuring as a soft blanket.
Like their first date, they’d ordered from the tasting menu and had worked their way through three dishes so far. Which meant three glasses of delicious wine that had left them both a little fuzzy-headed. He couldn’t resist flirting, because the gleam in her eyes and her light, breathy laughter provided a reward he’d never been able to resist. She was in rare form this evening. For the first time in over a year, she was smiling at him. Actually smiling. The very sight of her took his breath away. By God, she was beautiful, and he was so goddamn lucky to be there to see it.