Closer to My Heart

by Moore, Becky

  She turned her head to study him for a moment. He squirmed a bit and looked at points all around her to avoid her direct gaze. “That’s why you’re decompressing. Right?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. I, uh, don’t really talk about it much. I was in Columbia and some other South American countries after I got back from Afghanistan.” He followed her lead and took a bite of dinner.

  She wasn’t so gracious with him. “So you were in the military. What branch?”

  He cleared his throat and fiddled with his fork. “I joined the Army out of high school. I needed somewhere to go and I wasn’t the best student, so I knew I didn’t really want to go to college. I was a Ranger for a couple of years and cross-trained with the Navy.”

  “Does that happen often? Working in more than one branch?”

  “Yeah. I went through S.E.A.L. training and spent a year or so with the teams, but most of that time I worked with the DEA. I was with them for the last two years, before I…retired.”

  Jane nodded, willing herself not to start crying. Something bad must’ve happened for him to look so sad. It was impossible to swallow around the lump in her throat. They sat quietly for a few minutes.

  “I had a great trip to India once. The Taj Mahal was breathtaking. You know the Shah built it for his favorite wife, which—even though I knew he had a harem—was so romantic.” she sighed and batted her eyes with an exaggerated tilt of her head. Luke laughed, which made her feel better.

  He’d lost that look of devastation that was weighing him down for a while there. So she regaled him with great tales of her adventures through Europe and Asia. She laughed at the silly things she’d done and that had happened to her, and some of the awards she’d won through the years. Gradually he relaxed and ate some more. He didn’t ask anymore questions, but he didn’t look like he was going to cry, either.

  Midway through her second helping of macaroni and cheese, she scooted her chair back from the small table in Amber’s apartment and groaned.

  “Oh, my God. That was so good. I’m so full I hurt, but I’m so screwed—I smell brownies.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her stomach. Damn!

  Once he’d regained his appetite, he put away some serious food. After wolfing down three helpings of his own he reached across the table and finished off hers, too. He laughed and muttered something that sounded like ‘yeah,’ but his mouth was too full of food to really understand him.

  “How about another glass of wine?” he asked once he’d swallowed. But after he refilled his glass and took a big gulp, he sighed. “I don’t feel so good, either.”

  Jane let out a startled bark of laughter, then threw her head back and laughed out loud. “Well why did you eat so much then?” She chucked him on the arm and got up to clean off the table.

  Without thinking he said, “God, it’s so nice to eat what I want when I want…” His voice trailed off and she turned to look at him.

  She stopped loading the dishwasher and waited for him to continue. His face was sheet white and his expression looked like somebody knocked him upside the head with a shovel. Oh crap. This must be another bad memory for him. But she was compelled to ask.

  “Well why couldn’t you eat what you wanted when you wanted it?”

  “I, uh, was undercover while I worked with the DEA.”

  “Oh.”

  He excused himself and went back to the bathroom. Shit! He splashed water on his face, shivering when he felt it run down his neck through the open collar of his polo shirt. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and thought, Christ! This is all I need—to cry in front of Jane.

  But he couldn’t help it. The harder he glared at himself, willing the tears away, the more they filled his eyes. He hadn’t cried since his mother died when he was in high school. There was no room for crying on a mission. Tears aren’t acceptable when you’re staring death in the face, undercover in the bowels of hell in some rat-infested South American shithole slum. You’re supposed to be invincible when you’re building a case against America’s number one enemy importer of heroin.

  He growled and dashed the stupid tears away. He couldn’t meltdown now. With Jane in the other room. He liked her. He wanted her.

  He jumped when she knocked on the door. “Just a minute,” he croaked. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water, taking a quick moment to wipe off his face.

  “Okay, honey,” she said quietly.

  He cleared his throat and dried his hands and face on the towel hanging on the rack. Time to face the firing squad. He wrenched the door open and pushed past Jane, nearly knocking her over.

  “Oh! Sorry, Janie.” He caught her by the elbow to steady her, and when she bent a little to get a better look at his face, he let her go and moved on to the front door. “Um, I’ll bring you some brownies in the morning if that’s okay.”

  He stood there for a minute, praying that his voice wouldn’t crack again. It was bad enough that she saw his mini breakdown; if he lost it again, he’d die of embarrassment.

  But she was smart, and a keen observer of life. Instead, she walked through the kitchen and set her refilled wine glass on the counter.

  “I’m sorry if I upset you, Luke.” She paused in front of him by the door and stretched up to kiss him sweetly on the mouth. “But I’m glad we talked. And I’m glad we spent the evening together. I hope we can do it again. Soon.”

  He was stunned, and his mouth was slightly open. She took advantage and leaned in to kiss his open mouth again, lingering a bit longer this time, but pulled back when she felt the subtle shift in him, like he was going to wrap her in his arms. The zing of sexual awareness that had been sparking between them for days now was stronger than ever, but they weren’t ready for anything physical. Yet.

  Chapter Five

  Over the next few weeks, Jane and Lucas were the two musketeers, having breakfast and exercising each morning. On Saturday, after they’d gotten home from a nice long run through campus, he cornered her on the porch, crowding her between one of the big columns and his big body. He smoothed her hair back from her face and focused his sexy gaze on her mouth.

  It had been so long since he’d felt as carefree…so in tune with another person…as he had during this time with Jane. She was not only beautiful and sexy, but she was fun, smart and interesting. He liked to listen to her talk about her family and friends. At first, it felt like she was speaking Swahili—her whole life had been so safe and clean and different than his. She had been loved as a child and appreciated as an adult. His whole life had pretty much been a big bummer, although the weeks he’d known Jane were changing his perspective on life. And love.

  “Janie,” he sighed. He leaned down and nuzzled his mouth beneath her jaw. He’d rarely touched her since that afternoon he’d thwarted Tiffany’s advances, but he couldn’t take it another minute. He wasn’t ready to part ways for the day, and he wasn’t willing to go another day without testing their attraction.

  “I don’t want to go back upstairs. Since it’s so beautiful outside, do you think we could run by Wellspring and pack a picnic? Isn’t there a park around here?” He could not be a good boy and walk upstairs and not have her. His body was reaching critical mass on sperm backup, and he was going to blow soon. He hoped.

  She was lost in his gaze, snared like a cobra by a mongoose. After a minute, she realized he was talking to her, so she cleared her throat and reached up to hold his wrist. “Oh, a picnic sounds like fun, but I’ve got to get the outline for my next book out by the middle of next week, and then I’ve got to call my travel agent to schedule my flight for—.” She stopped mid-sentence and blinked several times, looking lost.

  He chuckled at the wrinkles marring her forehead. He could see the wheels turning mightily in her head as she tried to shift around her responsibilities for the day.

  “Um, never mind. I can do that later.” She smiled brightly. “Let’s make a day of it!”

  His fingers were moving softly over her colla
rbone and trailing up to and around her ears. He watched the glide of his fingers over her soft skin, and smiled when she shivered. She liked him touching her as much as he liked to touch her.

  “Wait—I thought you said the night I met you that you’d just finished up a deadline and that’s why you were up so late. Are you sure you’re not brushing me off?”

  He knew their attraction was mutual; the physical signs were just too obvious. Maybe, like him, she was nervous and afraid to take a chance.

  But she shook her head, clearing the sensual spell he was weaving between the two of them, and stepped back from his embrace.

  “Oh, no, I’m not brushing you off. Actually, I’m thinking I could take my notebook with me. Come on, let’s head inside and get some things together.” She started to move around him, but he was standing in the middle of the doorway. The only way around him was to brush up against him or wait.

  So when she squeezed past him, Luke inhaled sharply and held very still. She took his hand, pulling him behind her. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in her wake, smelling hot, sexy woman. Her skin was still heated from their run, but there was also an underlying trace of her flowery shampoo. Beyond his control, his body started tingling and he could feel his groin growing heavier with arousal, his sex thickening and swelling. Christ, it felt like a baseball bat in his shorts.

  “Duke Gardens is about five miles away, or there’s a nice hiking trail over at the Eno River but it’s farther. Which would you rather do?” She kept her voice light and even, which drove him even more nuts. They both knew he’d rather do her.

  “How about we do Duke Gardens today and head over to the Eno River next weekend. That okay?”

  “Yep, that’s good for me. Leisurely picnic today, exhausting hike next week. I know we’re going to be playing outside, but let’s clean up from our run. I’ll feel better once I can wash off some of this sweat. I’ll meet you back down here in fifteen minutes, okay?”

  Jane was pulling her hair out of its ponytail and trotting back to her room, when Lucas called to her from the back staircase. She stopped: “Is Duke Gardens close enough to walk to, or are we going to drive over? You know, flip flops or running shoes?”

  He reached back to the nape of his neck and pulled his pink Mr. Bubble T-shirt over his head. His eyes were closed and he had no idea her attention was on him while he swiped the shirt down his face and chest, drying off some of the dripping sweat. He was muscled like a Grecian statue—Jane hoped his dangly bits were still intact, because he was a real flesh-and-blood man. The man, she was quickly learning, who was for her.

  Her body broke out in a new sweat at the sight of all that muscle. He was hot, and she was prepared to get burned. She’d finished her big deadline and was going to celebrate by splurging on hot sex with Lucas. Some women preferred hot fudge sundaes or shopping sprees; she preferred a new lover. She couldn’t wait to try him on for size.

  She just stood there, staring. “Oh, God. Uh, I figured we’d drive over.”

  And now she had his attention and his eyes moved hungrily, proprietarily over her body. He panted through his mouth and she could see his erection growing in his brief running shorts. She licked her lips and he growled. In the past, he turned away rather than letting her see his physical reaction. Not today. They were both set on the same path of combustion. And just as it seemed he would abandon all thoughts of his shower and stalk toward her, she turned and ran the rest of the way to her bedroom shouting over her shoulder, “Hurry!”

  He could hear her nervous laughter all the way to the attic apartment.

  Jane took an extra long shower so she could shave her legs and armpits. Luckily, she’d gotten a Brazilian wax from her lesbian friend, Annie, at Bella Trio Day Spa a couple days ago. She’d been so busy since February that she hadn’t dated—at all. When she’d been in for her waxing—and she wouldn’t trust just any ol’ stranger with such an intimate task—Annie told her she was going to close up because she’d been celibate for so long. To Annie, a week was devastating.

  Jane smoothed her favorite lily and jasmine lotion all over so her skin wouldn’t be dry. She even added some to her slick outer labia so the scent would tease Lucas all afternoon—especially when he peeled her out of her clothes later on. She hummed while she dried her hair and flossed and brushed her teeth.

  God, she loved men. The way they smelled. The way the hair on their chests and legs felt rubbing against her body. The way their large, rough hands could bring such exquisite, carnal pleasure and yet offer such loving, soothing comfort. She wondered if Luke would be a gentle lover who coaxed a response from her, or if he would hold her down and fuck her senseless? Not knowing was killing her, holding her on the knife-edge of desire.

  Jane was no prude. Actually, quite the opposite. She knew what she wanted and was never shy or hesitant. She’d just been busy. But that was about to change. The sexual tension arcing between the two of them could supply power to a small town.

  Lucas groaned as he wrestled with the ties on his shorts, trying to get the damn things off. He’d been half-hard since stretching out with Jane before their run…just like he’d been everyday since she’d knocked on his door. He was disappointed to find Jane missing when he’d met her that first day, and he’d been dreaming of waking up to find her sweet ass settled on his lap again. He had wanted to cook her breakfast and find out more about her. And, okay, he wanted to cop a feel—but he wasn’t a total bastard…he was fine with her copping one right back. But she had fled. At first he’d been pissed, but he knew her now. He liked how she thought and the way she talked. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman, and even longer since he’d had a relationship. And he knew enough about himself to know that Jane was different than the other women he’d known and been with, and was surprised that he was so willing to try something new with her. She was no one-night stand. He could tell it was time.

  He shook himself out of his stupor, finally getting the damn pants off. The shower downstairs was still on, so he rushed to get himself clean. The water warmed slowly, so he brushed his teeth while he waited. He rinsed, spit and turned to get into the shower when he heard Jane singing. She’d been humming for a few minutes, but now she was singing along with Elton John on the radio. She had a beautiful voice. It was lucky he’d already gotten out of the pants because his half-mast was now at full sail and would have snapped in two if he had to wrestle it now. Every beat of his heart throbbed through his dick, which was now pounding painfully along with his racing heart.

  Shit! He grabbed a new bar of soap from under the sink, stepped into the shower and took himself in hand. It was the only way he’d find any peace of mind until they got back from the park, and even then he couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to get inside Jane’s panties. The thought made him groan and work himself over faster.

  Chapter Six

  “Hey slowpoke,” Jane teased when Lucas finally walked into the foyer.

  He was frowning and a little grouchy when he stepped through the living room, where sunshine poured through the windows. The shadows from the swaying branches of the voluminous Cherry trees in front of the bay windows played across his face.

  When he stopped in front of her, Jane’s mouth dropped open and she stared conspicuously towards the lower half of his body. He had the urge to turn his back to her to make sure his dick wasn’t poking out of his shorts, but Christ, he’d just pumped himself dry ten minutes ago. Yet it was a wonder he could walk because he was half-hard again.

  “Sorry it took me a couple minutes extra to be ready,” he murmured. Jane couldn’t tear her eyes away from his hips and his legs. “Jane,” he said.

  She was dumbstruck, and couldn’t tear her eyes away from his strong legs. They were as sexy as the rest of him. She blinked, and closed her mouth, but didn’t say anything.

  He gave in to the urge to shield himself, and said more sternly, “Jane!”

  She jumped nearly a foot off the ground and blinked when his
hand covered his crotch. She looked up to find a hot blush covering his neck and most of his cheeks. Well, hell, at least the scowl was gone. In its place, though, was a look of total disbelief.

  “What’s wrong with you?” His voice was a little huskier than he’d have liked but he couldn’t help it. She’d been staring, and where he came from a woman didn’t get to get away with such an obvious action.

  Now she was blushing. And cursing under her breath. And sputtering about while she tried to regain a little composure. Most days he wore long sweat pants for their run.

  “I … I, uh, was, uh … I called and ordered lunch for us. You know,” she said nervously over her shoulder while she finished packing a large white and red canvas LL Bean bag. She stopped and took a deep breath. “You know, so we wouldn’t have to wait once we got to Wellspring. I didn’t know what you’d like, but you look fit enough to me—” shit, he heard her say to herself and there was that beautiful blush. She’d put on a pink T-shirt with a wide scoop neck that showed off her beautiful and delicately made collarbones and shoulders, and he could see the tiny strings to a bikini tied around the back of her neck halter-style. He loved little string bikinis. He couldn’t wait to see her in nothing but that bikini.