She swallowed, and I felt the motion of her throat under my hands. “And if I have no objections . . . and I don’t want you to back off . . . what will you do?”
“This.” Without giving her time to second-guess herself or me, I lowered my mouth to hers, touching first her upper lip, then the bottom, before I angled my head and deepened the kiss. Jenna stood very still until I coaxed her to open to me, my tongue delving between her lips. Then she lifted her arms to twine around my neck, making a noise in the back of her throat that went straight to my dick.
Slow, I reminded myself. Slow. Just a kiss, because this is what she needs. This is what we need.
And so I contented myself with exploring the inside of her mouth, stroking my tongue over hers, tracing the interior of her lips. I held her face as though it was the most precious thing I’d ever touched, because it was.
She pressed closer to me, and the feel of her sweet tits against my chest nearly drove me over the edge. But I forced myself to keep my hands cupped around her cheeks. I could have stood there and kissed her into eternity. My entire world shrunk to the intoxicating feel of her lips against mine and the intriguing small sounds she was making—part groans, part sighs.
When I lifted my head a little, just to take a deep breath, Jenna threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of my neck and ran her tongue over her kiss-swollen lips.
“Linc?” Her voice was low and thick with desire. “Maybe . . . should we talk about this?”
“Hmmm.” I nuzzled her ear, breathing in her sweet scent, so uniquely Jenna. “We can. We will. We’ll talk about whatever you want, as long as I can keep my arms around you while we do it. And then after we talk, I’m taking you to my house and cooking you some dinner. Just the two of us.”
“That sounds wonderful. Perfect. But—” She cleared her throat and stared at a spot on my shoulder. “I—I don’t want—I don’t think I’m ready for—to stay the night with you. To . . . you know. Not yet.”
“Hey.” I nudged her to meet my eyes again. “Jenna, I don’t expect that. I just want to kiss you. I want to touch you, hold you. I want to talk with you while I’m cooking, and then eat with you and maybe, just maybe, make out on the couch for a little while before you go home. That’s all.”
“That’s all.” She laughed, breathlessly. “That’s all. Linc, that’s enormous to me. I’m not saying I don’t want it, too,” she added quickly. “Just that it’s more than I can take in. I’m not sure what to do here. My growth is completely stunted when it comes to things like relationships and dating. I feel like I’m using muscles that have been dormant for a very long time.”
“Don’t worry, babe.” I kissed the top of her head. “We’ll take it slow. All of it. You tell me if I push too far or too fast. Okay?”
“All right.” She leaned against me, her head on my chest. “I trust you, Linc.”
I swayed a little, as though we were dancing to music only the two of us could hear. “I’ve been trying so hard not to do this, Jenna. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. Not even something casual, and believe me, honey, what I’m feeling here is pretty damn far from casual. I didn’t want to push you into anything, or change the friendship we have. I don’t want you to feel like I’m betraying that. So if you don’t feel the same way I do, it doesn’t have to change what we had. What we have.”
“Linc? You’re not pushing me. I’ve been hoping you’d do this for a while. I just couldn’t be the one to say it or to make the first move. I’m sorry. After—after Trent, it was something I couldn’t do.”
“I get it.” My voice was muffled against her hair.
“I’m not a real good bet.” I could feel the movement of her lips against my chest and the vibration of her voice through my body.
Chuckling, I stroked down her back. “I know your history, Jenna, and you know mine. We’re both going into this with our eyes open. And talk about a questionable prospective—I’m a recovering alcoholic with two kids. You’re the one who should be having second thoughts, babe.”
“I’m not, though.” She sounded so certain. I couldn’t believe that this woman, who could have any guy in the world, was in my arms.
“Should I ask why you’re so sure?”
Her shoulders rose and dropped. “I don’t trust my own judgment. Not anymore. But from the minute we met, I liked you. I felt comfortable with you. And then even after you found out about my history, you opened up your life to me. You shared your kids.” She stroked my arm below the sleeve of my T-shirt. “I like you. I like the way you are with me, with the crew and with Becca and Oliver. I like your long stories, and I even like your corny jokes.”
I grinned. “Well, there you go. I like my corny jokes, too.” I wrapped the end of her hair around my finger and tugged gently. “I liked you right away, too. And I like how brave you are, how honest you are, and how you treat my guys like they’re your equals, not just men who’re working for you. I even like . . .” I closed my eyes. “Watching Veronica Mars with you. Okay, I admitted it.”
She was quiet for a few minutes and then she lifted her head. “Will you kiss me again, Linc? Please?”
“Baby, you never have to ask me twice.” Holding her as close to me as we could get with our clothes still on, I sealed my mouth over hers again, losing myself in the wonder and pure joy of her kisses.
THE LAST TIME I’D HAD a boyfriend, I was a junior in high school. I’d gone out with Levi Brandon for all of six weeks, which was a record for me. Our relationship had consisted of holding hands in the hallway between classes, sitting together at lunch, and weekend dates to the movies in Farleyville or for pizza at Franco’s. Levi had tried to convince me to go with him and all our friends to one of the lakes just outside town, but I knew my parents would freak out about that. I had three older sisters who knew what happened at lake parties, and since they were all out of school, they weren’t shy about filling in my parents on the dirty details.
I’d been secretly relieved that I had an excuse to turn him down. Levi was fairly popular and a fun guy, but he didn’t make my heart beat faster when he kissed me, and I didn’t get butterflies in my stomach when I knew I was going to see him. By the end of six weeks, I was bored and tired of being someone’s girlfriend. Levi was getting possessive and talking about the future. When he mentioned applying to the same colleges, I’d laughed out loud, and that had been the end of that. Heartbroken I was not.
After that, I hadn’t met another boy—or man—who interested me enough to consider more than one or two dates, until Trent came along. One of my therapists had pointed out that my lack of relationship experience had made me even more susceptible to falling hard for him, because I’d imbued him with all the qualities I hadn’t found in any other male. I wasn’t sure I bought that, but I’d certainly fallen hard for a guy who hadn’t given me any signals that he felt the same way, so maybe that doctor was onto something.
In the weeks following my first kiss with Linc, though, I more than made up for the rapid heartbeat and stomach butterflies I’d been missing out on during my younger years. I woke up each morning with a delicious sense of anticipation, knowing that I was going to see him at some point during the day. And when I was driving out to the plantation for my regular walk-throughs, my stomach fluttered until I saw him, at which point I had to bite back a huge smile and fight the urge to leap into his arms.
We were keeping our new status on the down low, for now at least. Neither of us wanted to complicate the Oak Grove project with speculation about what Linc and I might be doing when we had meetings, and we were careful not to even touch during business hours.
And then there were the kids, too. Becca and I had begun to forge a friendship, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that by letting her know I was making out with her dad most evenings. Linc and I both felt that Oliver wouldn’t really care one way or the other, but we wanted to ease both of them into the idea of us.
Kiki was the only one who knew the truth because, of
course, she’d guessed the first time I’d stopped in to the bakery after our kiss. I knew she wouldn’t say anything, not even to her niece Sydney.
We had to be careful and circumspect, but I had to admit that for now, at least, there was a certain thrill in a secret relationship. I still hung out with the whole family several times during the week. It was a struggle not to touch Linc on those nights, to pretend that we were still only friends. On rare and wonderful occasions, the kids would spend the night out at Meghan and Sam’s farm or at Ali and Flynn’s house, and then Linc and I spent hours on his couch or mine, kissing and touching, going just a tiny bit further each time.
I still wasn’t ready for sex yet. I felt guilty about it, because I knew Linc was beyond ready. He never said anything, never pushed, but there was more than one night when he left my house walking funny, and I often felt the evidence of his desire for me against my leg when he held me.
I was thinking about that as we sat at my apartment one evening. Ali and Sam had recruited both the kids to help with the second peach harvest. It meant early mornings and late nights, so they were sleeping at Ali’s house for three nights. I felt like a kid who’d been given an unscheduled school holiday.
“You know it’s not that I don’t love Becca and Oliver, right?” I was sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, putting together some of the Oak Grove research for the booklet we planned to sell as part of our fundraising effort. Linc was sprawled behind me, his feet propped on the arm of the couch. “I always enjoy my time with them. But being alone for three evenings?” I laid my head back on the sofa cushion, looking at Linc upside down. “Not going to lie. It’s pretty sweet.”
“Hey, babe, you’re preaching to the choir.” He leaned over to kiss me, his chin brushing against my nose. “I’m all over this. Matter of fact, I was thinking of hiring the kids out to other farmers who might need help with their harvest. ‘Bout time they started pulling their own weight, right?” He winked at me, and I laughed.
“As if. We’d both be missing them too much.” I sat up again and reached for a folder. “Oooh, this is the transcript of that diary I’ve been waiting to get.”
“But speaking of the kids being away . . .” Linc shifted on the sofa, swinging his feet around to the floor as he sat up. “I talked to Hank and Doris today.”
“Oh, really?” I knew Sylvia’s parents had been trying to work out a way to see Becca and Oliver. I couldn’t blame them for missing their grandkids, but I also understood that Linc was concerned about interrupting the kids’ adjustment to Burton and life with their father.
“Yeah. I finally convinced them that it wasn’t a good idea to send Bec and Ollie to Texas by themselves, and that I can’t take the time off right now to make the trip with them. So they’ve decided that they’re going to come here next week, before the kids start school. Doris offered to take them to Savannah, do some school shopping and some sightseeing. It sounds like a good compromise.”
“It does,” I agreed. “How do you feel about that?”
Linc slid one leg behind me to sit on the other side of my shoulder, so that my back rested between his hard thighs. “I feel really good about it. First of all, it’ll be fun for Becca and Ollie to show their grandparents their new home and to explore Savannah a little. And second, I was thinking that maybe . . . you might want to come spend that weekend with me. No pressure,” he added hastily. “I’m not saying we have to do anything you’re not ready to do. But just to sleep in the same bed and wake up together—that would be pretty much heaven.”
“Wouldn’t you worry someone would see us and say something?” I bit the side of my lip. I wanted this. I really did, but I was also still nervous about the idea of sleeping with Linc. No, come to think of it, sleeping with Linc didn’t bother me. It was the prospect of having sex with him. There were times when I yearned to be that close to him, but then in my mind, I heard the echo of Trent’s words. Honey, you weren’t good enough for me to give you a second ride. I couldn’t bear the idea of disappointing Linc, or of not being good enough for him. It would kill me.
“Nope. But if it would make you feel better, I’ll pick you up, so your car won’t sit in my driveway all weekend. No one will have to know. But I’m not ashamed of you, and I’m not ashamed of us.”
“I’m not, either. But I want us to decide how we tell the kids. I don’t want them to hear from someone else. And I should probably say something to my family before we go public.”
“I agree. So—we take a weekend to be together, without anyone knowing or bothering us, and then we’ll figure out how and when we want to tell everyone who’s important to us.”
“Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind.” I snuggled down more securely between his legs, perusing the pages before me, as Linc leaned back, flipping through the channels on the television.
“This diary is absolutely fascinating. I’m so glad we were able to get a copy of it from the museum in Marietta.” I squinted, reading the exquisite penmanship.
“Remind me of what it is?” Linc glanced over my shoulder.
“It’s the journal of a cousin of the Bennett family. She lived with them for the first two years of the war, and she talks about Oak Grove back then, what it was like and about all the family members.”
“How did you find out about it?”
“Actually, it was my mom, by way of Miss Rachel. She had some really old photographs that her grandmother had left to her, and one had this cousin’s name written on the back. Miss Rachel remembered hearing something about her, so we did some research, and lo and behold, we found out who she was. Turned out that she was very active in the historical society up around Marietta and had left them all her diaries and letters. They were happy to make copies and send them to us. We’re hoping she can tie up some loose ends about the family.” I flipped over to another page. “Aha! This is what I was talking about. We know there were six children in the family during the war, and we’ve traced the histories and descendants of all of them but one—Lydia. She just kind of vanishes after 1863, but this cousin is writing about her here . . .” My voice trailed off as I read.
“Well, don’t leave me hanging. What does she say? Did Lydia do something scandalous to get written out of the family Bible?” Linc played with a strand of my hair, twisting it around his finger.
“Oh, my God.” I read the last paragraph over again, my heart thudding in my ears. “Uh, yeah. She kind of did. But it’s so sad.” I laid down the paper and turned my head to look back. “Linc, she killed herself. Her cousin writes that Lydia’s fiancé died at Gettysburg, and when Lydia found out, she drowned herself in the creek.”
“Huh.” Linc frowned. “Yeah, that’s sad.” He was quiet for a few minutes. “But I’ve got to admit, it also pisses me off a little bit. Suicide makes me angry. It’s such a waste. When I think about all the people who died in that war, and how many people struggle to stay alive even now, with cancer and heart attacks and accidents—no, I can’t imagine anyone making a choice to end his life.”
“I can.” I spoke over the lump in my throat. For weeks now, I’d been pushing down a growing concern that someone in town was going to spill the last—and only—secret I was keeping from Linc. The night of the Fourth of July, when I’d shared the whole story about Trent, it hadn’t felt like the right time to add on the final shame. Oh, by the way, in the aftermath of the humiliation of being publicly dumped and having my heart stomped on, I tried to take a bunch of pills and kill myself. I’d assured myself that it was okay to dole it out in small doses. But there was no way I could let this pass without telling him. Before, it was a lie of omission. This would be an out-and-out failure to be honest.
“I can imagine it. I can imagine feeling like there’s no other way out. I can imagine knowing that I’ve disappointed the people who are most important in my life. I can imagine having all the hopes and dreams I’d built up revealed to be the stupid fantasies of an immature girl. I can imagine knowing that everyon
e in town is whispering about me and dreading the moment when those whispers make it around to my parents and my sisters.” I took a deep breath. “I can imagine feeling like stopping the pain, any way I can, is a far more appealing choice than letting it continue to hurt. I can imagine taking a bottle of pills, lying down in my bed, and consoling myself that me checking out is going to make things easier on everyone.”
I was trembling, and to my surprise, I tasted salt on my lips from the tears that were spilling down my face. There wasn’t any sound in the room except for my own uneven breaths.
“Jenna.” Linc whispered my name. “Jenna . . . why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged, keeping my back to him so I didn’t have to see the betrayal I was certain must be in his eyes. “I don’t know. At first it just . . . it seemed like I’d laid enough of my shit on you that night we talked about everything. And then the longer it went on and no one told you, I guess maybe I thought I might not have to say anything. It’s not something I like to discuss, as you can probably imagine.”
I sat on the floor, his legs still flanking me, and I waited. I waited for him to accuse me of lying to him, for him to jump to his feet and walk out, for good. I waited for him to call me a coward.
Strong arms slid over my ribs and lifted me into his lap. Linc gripped my chin so that I had no choice but to look into his eyes. But where I expected to see condemnation and judgment, I saw only love and compassion.
“Jenna . . . babe. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me anything, okay? I want all of you. Every bit, broken or whole, pretty and shiny or what you might think is ugly. I’m not afraid of anything you are.” He pressed a hard kiss to my lips and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Jenna, I know I haven’t said it yet. I keep hoping you feel it, that you know it anyway, but I haven’t said the words out loud because I didn’t want to scare you. But maybe you need to hear them as much as I need to say them right now.”
Always Our Love Page 15