by Sara Orwig
Jake paused and studied her, feeling his body respond to the way she was looking at him. Her gaze lifted, meeting his, and he inhaled, fighting the urge to walk across the room and sweep her into his arms.
“I'll get us some tea,” she said suddenly, rushing from the room. He wiped his forehead, thinking the room had grown hotter instead of cooler. He knew she had used the tea as an excuse, and he debated following her and making her forget all about tea.
He groaned and moved restlessly to the window, switching off the lights and opening the drapes so that he could watch the storm. His thoughts jumped right back to Rebecca. He was going to have to come to some kind of decision before he did something that they might both regret.
He thought about marriage. The thought set butterflies dancing in his stomach. But then he thought about going back to his condo without Rebecca. Night after night without her. Never seeing her again. That caused a pang in him that surprised him.
And even if he decided he wanted the lady as his wife—could he ever get past her objections and win her over? He damned sure didn’t want to retire now. And he didn’t want a desk job. He didn’t want a different career.
“You're not ready for commitment,” he whispered to himself as he stared outside, watching raindrops streak the window.
“Here’s your tea,” she said quietly behind him. He turned, and she held the glass out almost as far as her arm would reach. If he hadn’t been in such a turmoil over the night, he would have laughed. But there was nothing amusing about the tug and pull on his emotions.
He accepted the tea, aware of his fingers brushing hers. She hurried across the room and sat on the far corner of the sofa, but the room was too small for her to put much space between them.
As he sipped the cold tea, lightning flashed, momentarily bathing the room in bright light. In that moment he saw that Rebecca was curled in the corner of the sofa, her long legs tucked under her, her blue eyes wide while she gazed back at him. The chambray shirt was unbuttoned slightly more than usual—something she might not be aware of.
He sipped the tea in silence, knowing he had to make a decision and stick by it. And if he didn’t want marriage, if he didn’t want to hurt Rebecca—he might be better off telling Vance to put Jay Werner out here for a few days.
The silence between them was lengthening, and he wondered if her thoughts were just as stormy as his.
“I can get them to put someone else out here,” he said quietly.
Rebecca felt a pang of loss, yet she knew in her heart that she should urge Jake to get someone else. It would simplify her life. Why couldn’t she answer him and agree?
She sat in the dark, sipping the cold tea, looking at Jake, and lightning flashed again. His long legs were stretched out on a chair, his bare feet sticking up in the air, and something about his bare legs and feet seemed intimate.
Finally she drained the glass and listened to Jake crunching down the last of his ice. She could offer to get more tea, but she didn’t want to say anything. She set her empty glass on a coaster on the table and put her head back against the sofa while her stormy thoughts raged again.
How bad was it going to be when he was gone? She had spent the past two years dealing with loss and adjustment, and now it looked as if she were going to have to deal with it again. But every bit of distance we can keep between us will make it less painful when he goes, she reminded herself, wondering if her heart was listening.
She should tell him to get another assignment—yet even if she decided that would be best for her, she needed to think beyond matters of the heart and think about safety, because the girls were involved. Jake had been the one person in the courtroom that day who had stopped Meskell from getting to her or hurting anyone. There had been deputies, other detectives, but it was Jake who had leaped over the railing and decked Meskell.
She suspected Captain Vance had tried to place a good man with her. Jake had been one of the men to bring in Meskell before. Suppose his replacement was not quite as competent?
She shook her head as lightning flashed, lighting the room.
“What’s the matter, Rebecca?” Jake asked finally.
She realized he had seen her shaking her head. “Just getting my hair out of my face,” she answered. “I'm going to bed now.”
“Sure. Don’t worry. He won’t come in this storm.”
“How on earth do you know?”
“Just a hunch. I don’t think Meskell would want to creep around in the mud. Hard to get away, too. Besides, it’s getting far into the night now.”
“Do you go without sleep all the time like this?”
“Hell, no,” he said, finally standing, the sheet remaining firmly in place. “Under normal circumstances,” he said quietly, “I get a regular night’s sleep.” His voice lowered, and she realized they were skirting a dangerous topic again.
“Good night, Jake.” She left the room in a hurry, going to her room to lie in bed, staring at the windows and trying to resolve that she wasn’t going to let Jake Delancy break her heart. And she was not going to become more emotionally involved with him than she already was.
* * *
After breakfast the next morning, when they stepped outside before hurrying to the barn, Rebecca paused to inhale deeply. The sky was clear and blue, the air fresh, cooled by the rain. “Isn’t this a glorious day!” she exclaimed, and then caught Jake watching her intently, his hazel eyes smoldering with the same fires that she had seen in them last night.
“Yeah, it’s glorious,” he said in a husky voice, his gaze drifting over her in a leisurely manner that made her tingle as if he had touched her. She was aware of her red T-shirt, the cutoffs. Her hair was caught up, twisted and pinned on top of her head.
Tara tugged on her wrist. “Can we go ahead?”
“Yes, go on,” she said as Jake gave a nod. He placed his arm across Rebecca’s shoulders and hurried her toward the barn.
“It seems too pretty a day for trouble,” she remarked, aware of his arm across her shoulders, of their brushing against each other as they walked.
“That’s when you really need to keep up your guard,” he answered.
“I'll try to remember that,” she answered, feeling as if they were talking about two different things at once. “Jake, I want you to stay. I don’t want you to get a replacement.”
“Is that right?” he asked, his brows arching and his hazel eyes boring into her, and she realized he might have misinterpreted her statement completely.
“I don’t want someone else, because I figured Captain Vance sent the best man for the job. I figured the girls and I will be safer with you here.”
Jake felt a twist of disappointment. For one heart-stopping second, he had thought she meant she wanted him there for another reason. Inwardly he laughed at himself for jumping to such a conclusion. She had given him damned little reason to think that all of a sudden she would do a complete turnaround.
And he was surprised at the disappointment he had experienced. Was she becoming that important to him? Was he the one who was doing a complete and swift turnaround?
“Okay, Rebecca,” he said quietly. Her cheeks flushed, and he wondered why.
Her gaze slid away from him. “Whatever is going on between us personally shouldn’t jeopardize the girls' safety.”
“Or yours. I’d give this up if I thought I couldn’t concentrate.”
She glanced up at him, her expression solemn. “Whatever happens, I'm certain you'll keep your concentration on your work.”
They had reached the barn and they stepped inside. McCauley had switched on the lights and fans. Jake swung Rebecca around to face him, sliding his arm away so that only his hand rested on her shoulder. His index finger lightly stroked her earlobe while he looked down at her.
“Just what does that remark mean? That I can concentrate on my work no matter what happens?”
“It just means that I think you can put your work first, before everything else in your life
. Dan did. If the girls and I had been standing on the curb watching that building burn, he still would have run in there. If the only way you could stop Meskell from shooting me and the girls was to throw yourself between us, I don’t think you’d hesitate.”
“You're making me into a hero. I might not be able to live up to that image, and that last situation would not be a win-lose one. I would lose either way.”
She felt a pang of longing, his words wrapping around her heart. “You know what I meant, and I know I'm right, whether you'll admit it or not. For the girls' sakes, I want you to stay.”
“When you twist my arm like that, how can I resist?” he answered, but he wanted to say something else. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her he wanted to stay because he wanted to be with her.
“I better get to work.” She walked away, and he turned to find Sissy sitting on a bale of hay nearby and studying him. She slid off the bale and walked over to him.
“Are you going to look all over the barn like you usually do?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Did you know that Tara and I saw a mouse in the corner?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Do you think it'll come back today?”
“Do you want it to?”
“Yes. But Mommy said not to touch it or try to play with it.”
“That’s right, because it’s not like a kitty or a puppy. Sometimes wild things bite. And sometimes they carry germs you can get if you touch them.”
“How do they carry germs?”
“In their fur,” he answered.
She slipped her hand into his as he walked along. He looked into stalls and knew he was checking for nothing, because McCauley had just done this. But he wasn’t going to run the risk that McCauley could have overlooked something or something could have happened between the time McCauley was here and the time they arrived.
As Jake leaned into a stall and looked all around, he glanced at Sissy, who was holding his hand and waiting expectantly, looking all around, the way she had seen him do. A fat lot of good it would do if he found someone hiding. His hand would be in Sissy’s and he would have the little girl right at his side. For security’s sake, he should tell her to go play with her sister, yet he felt certain the barn was secure and he didn’t want to send Sissy away.
His feelings surprised him again, but Sissy was sweet and it was nice to have her tagging along with him.
They looked into the next stall, and as they walked along, she glanced up at him. “You had your arm around Mommy when you came into the barn. Are you going to kiss her someday?”
“I might just do that, Sissy.”
“Do you love her?”
He gave that question some thought, debating how to answer her. “I'm getting to be friends with her. Where did you see the mouse?”
“Back there,” she said, pointing to the last stall on the west side of the barn.
“Well, mice sometimes follow patterns—”
“What’s a pattern?”
“They do the same thing every day at the same time. Did you see the mouse yesterday morning or yesterday afternoon?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“All right. Look for him again this morning. But you and Tara will have to be quiet or he won’t come out.”
“Yes, sir. I'm going to find Tara and tell her,” she said, removing her hand from his and running off, calling to her sister.
He looked in each stall and then climbed to the loft to walk over it.
Rebecca bent over her work, but she had watched Jake walking around the barn with Sissy’s hand in his. He was in his navy T-shirt and jeans, which made his tanned skin look even darker, and his hair was slightly ruffled. Sissy had looked so tiny next to him, smiling up at him while they talked, and Rebecca tried to stop thinking about their loss. Jake was good for the girls, but she hoped they weren’t hurt when he was gone.
As Jake came down from the loft, he paused to gaze outside at the trees behind the house. The day was gorgeous, the weather wonderful, and the threat of Meskell seemed far removed. And that should make him doubly cautious, he thought.
He walked back to watch Rebecca work, looking at her hands moving deftly over the glass, remembering them moving over his chest last night.
At midmorning, the mail truck came as usual. Jake jogged out to get the mail, as always welcoming a chance to work off some energy. He came back to the barn to hand her the mail and stood close by, watching her flip through it and open it. He still expected Meskell to pen a letter or call again, something to keep pressure on her. There were no unusual letters, and he went back to his vigil at the front of the barn while Rebecca returned to her work.
By early afternoon, the barn had become a steam bath. The sun was high and hot, the air muggy and the earth steaming from the rain. As Jake watched her work, Rebecca straightened up and wiped her brow. Even with the big fans, the air was stifling.
She glanced at Jake. He had pulled off his shirt and his chest and shoulders were covered with a damp sheen of sweat. He stood with a cold drink in his hand while he watched her work. Her gaze ran over his chest and she felt her pulse quicken, everything inside her tightening. Her gaze flicked up to meet his, and a mocking gleam was in his eyes.
Picking up her knife, Rebecca bent over her work swiftly, trying to concentrate before she cut a slice out of her finger instead of the glass. Usually, when she worked, she could shut out everything else and focus completely on what she was doing, but with Jake standing close by, she was finding it impossible.
He stood only yards away, leaning his hip against the table, his long legs crossed at the ankles while he watched her. As she cut carefully, in her peripheral vision she was aware of his hip and legs.
“Dammit,” she said finally, straightening up, wiping her wet brow and blowing a wayward tendril of hair out of her eyes. It immediately fell back over her eye, and Jake stepped close and caught the strand, tucking it up under the hair pinned on top of her head.
“You'll have to move away,” she said bluntly.
“Sorry,” he said with great innocence, his brows arching and curiosity coming into his eyes. “I was just tucking your hair out of your eyes. I can pull it back down—”
“No, I don’t mean that!” she snapped in exasperation. “You'll have to move farther away from me,” she said, trying to avoid looking into his hazel eyes, which no doubt could see exactly why she was asking him to move, “because I can’t concentrate.”
“Why can’t you concentrate?”
She looked him squarely in the eyes. “You know damned well why I can’t!”
“I don’t remember ever hearing you swear.”
“I didn’t have any reason to.”
“And now you do?”
“Jake, you're not—”
He grinned and held out his hand. “Whoa. I'll move away. I just couldn’t resist for a minute there. Just as I haven’t been able to resist time and time again,” he added, his smile fading. “Maybe we both should reconsider our views. We might be throwing something away that could really be great.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” she answered solemnly.
Jake turned to walk to the front of the barn and sit on the bale of hay. He swore at himself silently. He should leave the lady alone. He should stop flirting. And he should make up his damned mind whether he wanted to pursue her or not.
He stared into the hot sunshine and thought about life without her again. And every minute spent with her made thoughts of spending the rest of his life without her an unbearable proposition. So he ought to consider two things. Firstly, he ought to give some thought to getting married.
For once, no butterflies began a war dance in his stomach. That should give him a clue to his true feelings.
And secondly, he should give some thought to whether the lady could ever be won over. She had a true and deep aversion to cops. And that did not indicate great marriage possibilities.
Or he could just co
ol it, wait until this was over and then try to have a regular, normal relationship with her.
Would he really be able to consider marriage? He turned to look at her. She had moved around the table, standing on this side, bending over it, giving him a good view of her long legs. Marriage to her also meant becoming an instant father.
He was surprised that he still didn’t feel any butterflies at the thought. Actually, the four of them were getting along pretty well, and it was not under the best of circumstances. They were shut up together, day after day—and the days were hot, with little air-conditioning. The girls couldn’t play outside or go see their friends or do their activities, yet they were cheerful kids and entertained themselves.
All in all, if he had to become an instant dad, he couldn’t think of better children than Sissy and Tara. But even if he wanted marriage and he was ready to become a father—could he ever persuade Rebecca to marry a cop?
It would be a damned sight easier to seduce her. He knew he could have seduced her before now if he had put his heart into melting her mild protests.
But seducing her away from her objections to his job was another matter—and one battle he wasn’t certain he could win. All she had to do was look back and remember the pain she had suffered in losing her husband. And he had known she was remembering that several times when he was with her.
He wasn’t certain about the answer on that one. She might not ever change her mind. And if he fell in love, asked her to marry him, and she adamantly refused—was he ready for the consequences?
Life was full of risks and he took them often, so he wasn’t going to worry about the risk of getting hurt by her refusal. If he decided he wanted to pursue her, he would take that risk. So it boiled down to just one question. Was he in love with the lady enough to want to marry her?
As he continued studying her, she slanted a look at him over her shoulder. She was bent over the table while she looked at him. She straightened up and sauntered toward him, and he wondered if she had the faintest idea how sexy her walk was.