“You guys are big on tradition, huh?”
“Tradition: good. Change: bad.” She shrugged. “It’s a Candellano way of life.”
“Like dancing with your brothers?”
Her hand slid up his shoulder, and without really thinking about it, she ran her fingers through his hair at the back of his neck. Soft and thick. She felt his jolt of reaction to her touch as it slammed through her as well. But she kept talking. Not too hard for her, under most circumstances.
“Yeah. Dancing.” She inhaled slowly, deeply, and saw his gaze drop to the dip of her shirt. Her nipples peaked. Oh God. “Dancing. With my brothers. It’s the”—she closed her eyes; maybe if she didn’t look up at him, she’d be able to think and even, in a stretch, form a complete sentence—“song. ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’? They’ve always danced with me to that song. It’s kind of … mine.” Mine. Oh, that was brilliant.
Faith Hill reminded her again to just breathe and Carla did her damnedest to follow orders. But it wasn’t easy.
“It is your song,” Jackson whispered, and she opened her eyes to find his locked on her. His gaze moved over her features like a caress. Excitement spilled through her, pouring down along her limbs, then climbing back up her legs to settle in one particular spot that immediately started throbbing in time to the music.
“Jackson…” There was more she wanted to say, but with her throat closed up tight, it seemed impossible at the moment.
He swept her into a slow turn that dizzied her as completely as the Tilt-A-Whirl would have.
“Whenever I hear that song, Carla, I’ll remember tonight. And how you looked.” His gaze drifted over her again and she felt as though she could dance forever, as long as his arms were around her. As long as he kept talking, letting his voice ripple along her spine. As long as he kept looking at her as he was now. “I’ll remember how the lights sparkled in your eyes. How your lips were stained red from that cherry Sno-Cone. How your legs looked long and lean and silky.”
“Jackson,” she said his name again, mainly because she liked the sound of it. Her hand cupped the back of his neck, fingers wrapping around until she could almost feel the pounding pulse point at the base of his throat.
Something sizzled and she was pretty sure it was her.
The music ended; couples began to drift out of the arena, back toward their blankets to get a good seat for the coming show. But she and Jackson just stood there, still wrapped together, still swaying, as if to a tune only they could hear.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but whatever he was going to say was lost in the first boom and crash of the fireworks overhead.
Carla tipped her head back in time to see an explosion of blue and white stars that skittered off into the blackness and winked out of existence. “Oh, look,” she whispered, and Jackson turned her in his arms so that she could lean against his chest. Her breath caught as, one after another, rockets raced into the sky, burst open, and spilled dazzling light against the dark backdrop. Gold, red, silver, chasing each other through the stars.
The crowd “oohed” and “aahed” at all the right places and Carla lost herself in the crashing beauty overhead. She felt Jackson’s arms wrap around her middle and she laid her hands on his forearms, loving the feel of him, so close. So warm and strong.
And she wanted to lay him down in the grass and make love under the shadows of man-made rainbows splintering across the sky.
Jackson couldn’t remember ever feeling this … content. To be here. On this grassy knoll overlooking the black ocean, with this woman in his arms. He glanced toward Reese and saw her, still cuddled on Mama’s lap while the older woman pointed at the fireworks.
Clouds of smoke drifted through the night, carrying the scent of gunpowder. Children darted across the grass, holding sparklers high, dropping trails of bright embers behind them, like high-tech bread crumbs. Old people cuddled on blankets as they’d probably been doing for years. Teenagers used the distraction of the fireworks to get some serious necking done. And the younger kids fell asleep, safe in the arms of those who loved them.
Chandler.
Mayberry.
Good.
His arms tightened around Carla, pressing her tightly to him. The scent of her hair drifted to him and slipped inside, filling him, until she was all he could think of. Her warmth pushed into him, easing away the chill he’d carried inside him for far too long. And as the cold eased, he wondered how he would ever be able to go back to his old life. How would he face the emptiness of his condo? The sterile world of the city? How could he be the man he’d been when he hardly remembered him anymore?
Distant roars sounded out, thundering across the crowd as dozens of rockets shot heavenward at once for the grand finale. Blossoms of color erupted against the darkness, one on top of the other, crashing, shattering, spilling blue and green and gold and silver until the colors became one, bleeding into one another, dazzling the crowd.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
He looked down at her as she stared up at the sky and Jackson saw the fireworks reflected in her eyes. Bright color dazzled those brown depths and drew him in, welcoming him into a world he’d never known before.
It was magic. The whole damn night.
Hell, this place.
This woman.
Magic.
And he had to have her.
Had to claim, just once, a piece of the magic for himself.
“In my whole life,” he said softly, staring into those star-sprinkled eyes, “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
And then he kissed her while the sky exploded.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
FIREWORKS.
And not the ones in the sky.
Brilliant bursts of color flashed behind her closed eyes and Carla knew she was getting a much better show than everyone else was.
Jackson Wyatt had a great mouth.
His breath dusted her cheek. His right hand inched higher from her middle to rest beneath the underside of her breast, and everything in her ached for him to keep going. To touch her. Cup her.
But even while her blood boiled, Carla had enough brainpower left to be grateful for the crowd’s distraction. While they were watching the sky, they weren’t watching her and Jackson.
His mouth moved over hers with the tender expertise of a concert pianist playing a Steinway. Tender yet firm, hard yet gentle. He held her closer, tighter. The kiss deepened and she tasted him, drank him in, and gave as good as she got. The world spun crazily out of control and she didn’t really care.
Then the crowd applauded the end of the fireworks display and the moment was lost as Jackson pulled his head back to stare down at her.
He sucked in a gulp of air like a drowning man surfacing for the third and final time. She knew how he felt. Every inch of her body was burning and sputtering like a slow-burning sparkler. Her knees did that jelly dance that she was getting so used to when she was around him. And other parts of her were absolutely vibrating.
Ooh. Vibrating. Good word.
“Carla,” he said softly, “are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Depends,” she said on a sigh. “Does it have anything to do with being naked and rolling in Jell-O?”
He blinked, grinned, and snorted a laugh. “Green or red?”
“Oh,” she said, “red. Definitely.”
His smile faded. “This would probably be a mistake.”
“Absolutely.” Hadn’t she been telling herself that for weeks?
Lifting one hand, Jackson cupped her cheek, then smoothed her silky hair back from her face. God, he wanted her. He wanted his hands on her, sliding over smooth skin and discovering every curve and valley. His gaze followed the motion and he told himself that if he was smart, he’d stop. If he was smart, he’d forget this moment had just happened. If he was smart, he’d collect Reese and head back to the empty house he’d rented.
Reese.
Amazing just how fast thoughts of your kid
could put an end to other thoughts.
Tossing a glance at the blanket where the other Candellanos were packing up the remains of the day, he stared for a long minute at Reese. The little girl was helping Carla’s mother and the smile on his daughter’s face was almost enough to ease the pain of having to forget all about hot, steamy sex.
Almost.
No way was he going to be waiting for his kid to fall asleep so he could sneak Carla in. Christ. Just thinking about it made him feel like some sleazeball renting a room at a pay-by-the-hour motel.
Carla followed his gaze, watched Reese for a long minute, then patted his arm in understanding. “Hey,” she said, “Jell-O’s not all it’s cracked up to be anyway.”
He glanced at her. “Liar.”
“Yeah, well, it makes me feel better.” She smiled and started walking toward her family, with Jackson just a step or two behind. Which, unfortunately, gave him a great view of her behind. Were the shorts she was wearing getting shorter?
“Beautiful, Tony,” Mama was saying. “Nicer than last year.”
“I didn’t do the fireworks, Mama,” Tony said, draping one arm around Beth and pulling her close.
Mama waved both hands in the air as if wiping that statement away. “You’re the police. You’re in charge, right?” She glanced around. “Where’s Nicky?”
“He wandered off a while ago,” Stevie said, then looked at Tony. “Don’t worry; I’ve got his car keys.”
Paul shot Stevie a quick look as he folded the last of the blankets. “I’ll take these home for you, Mama. Then I’ve got to get back to the office.”
“You work too much.”
“Fog’s comin’ in,” Tony noted.
“At least it waited until after the fireworks this year,” Carla said, snatching up the now-empty food basket.
“Reese,” Jackson said quietly, reaching for her, “it’s time to go home.”
Instantly the little girl shook her head fiercely and threw her arms around Mama’s waist.
“Ah.…” Carla’s mother looked up at Jackson and smiled. “Is my fault. I told Reese that Tina is staying the night with her nana tonight and I thought maybe she would like to stay with me, too.”
Burrowing even closer to the older woman, Reese nodded and looked up at her father with huge pleading eyes.
“She’ll be fine,” Tony said.
Jackson nodded but didn’t answer.
This was a moment, too, he thought, staring at his child. In the last year, she’d hardly been able to bear being away from him. Yet here she stood, wanting to be a normal little girl and spend the night with the closest thing to a real grandma she’d ever known. A sweet ache settled in his chest as Jackson went down on one knee so that he and Reese were eyeball to eyeball.
“Are you sure, honey?” he asked, trying to see past her excitement to how she might react later tonight. But there was no fear in her eyes. Just anticipation and a contentment that he certainly wasn’t used to seeing.
Reese smiled, nodded, and let go of Mama long enough to throw her thin arms around his neck and give him a brief, hard hug. Then she stepped back, moving close to Mama Candellano again.
“Okay,” he said, standing up. He looked at Carla’s mother and said softly, “She’s afraid of the dark, so I always leave a light on and—”
Mama held up one hand. “It’s okay.” She laid one hand on Reese’s head. “Everybody’s afraid of the dark, right? So we don’t be in the dark.”
The little girl grinned.
So easy, he thought. When the Barringtons made a fear of the dark seem like cowardice.
“Don’t worry so much.” Picking Tina up, Mama plopped the toddler onto a well-padded hip, then took Reese’s hand. “We’re gonna have a party. We’ll have ice cream and popcorn and maybe watch a Princess movie, huh?”
Reese nodded as they walked away and Jackson noticed his daughter making the hand sign for sprinkles.
“Sure, we’ll have sprinkles,” Mama told her. “What’s ice cream with no sprinkles?”
Jackson shook his head in wonder. In just a few weeks, Carla’s mother had found a way to communicate with Reese. The woman understood his daughter’s little hand signs and didn’t pressure her for more. She’d given his daughter the warmth and acceptance and love that Jackson so wanted for her. Without even trying, Mama made the Barringtons look even worse than before.
Abbey stared after the girl, then threw a quick look at Carla. Didn’t take a genius to interpret it. “Go ahead,” Carla said, knowing her mother was just as nuts about Abbey as Reese was. The dog bounded after Reese, and she and Jackson were alone.
Carla stepped up beside him and laid one hand on his arm. “My mother adores her. Reese really will be okay. Don’t worry.”
“I know. And she’s happy.” He looked down at Carla’s hand on his arm, lifted it, placed a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist, then met her gaze again. “I’m not worried. I was just standing here thinking I should feel guilty for being glad Reese is out of the house for the night.”
Well, apparently the fire in her blood hadn’t been put out completely … just banked down to embers. Embers that were now suddenly flaring back into life. Around her, people moved off, their celebration over.
Hers was just beginning.
“Feel guilty tomorrow,” she said, leaning into him. “I’m Italian and Catholic, so I know. Trust me on this: there’s always time for guilt.”
“Yeah?” One corner of his mouth lifted into a twitch of a smile and Carla’s stomach flip-flopped. “Maybe if I kept busy enough tonight, I wouldn’t have the time for guilt.”
Promising.
* * *
“So what’s going on with Carla and the new guy?” Tony crawled into bed and stretched out atop the fresh, sweet-smelling sheets.
“Butt out, Tony!” Beth called from the bathroom.
“She’s my sister.”
“Uh-huh.”
“She’s had a rough couple years.”
“And she’s a big girl,” Beth assured him. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“That’s what worries me.” He scowled toward the square of light spilling through the open bathroom door. “Since when did you get so calm and sensible?”
Beth appeared in the doorway, leaning one hand high on the doorjamb. Her pale green silk nightgown slid along her body and Tony’s mouth dried up.
Stepping into the room, Beth walked slowly, seductively, toward the bed. “Since,” she pointed out, “I decided to enjoy our little vacation from our daughter.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “Tina’s with your mom and you have two whole hours before you have to go back on duty. But if you’d rather talk about Carla…”
He grabbed her and pulled her across his lap. “Carla who?”
* * *
Stevie let herself into the Leaf and Bean and walked across the dark shop toward the staircase at the rear of the building. She flicked the wall switch and instantly the stairwell brightened, lighting her way to the loft above her shop.
The place was too quiet.
After being surrounded by people all day, the emptiness of her home only seemed magnified. Usually she enjoyed being alone. Hearing her own thoughts. But tonight her thoughts weren’t exactly worth listening to.
She should have asked Paul to come home with her to watch a movie. It had been too long since the two of them had spent some time together. And she missed his company. She could use her friend tonight.
She walked across the bare wood floors to the wide front window that looked down on Main Street. Digging one hand into her pocket, she pulled out Nick’s car keys and jingled them in her hand.
“What the hell is going on with you, Nick?” she wondered aloud. He’d never been a big drinker. Today, though, he’d been sucking down beer like a man given one day to live and told to make the most of it. Why? But a second later, she tossed his keys onto the closest table and turned her back on the window. “A
nd why the hell do you care, Stevie?” she asked herself before heading to the shower.
* * *
A half hour.
She left Jackson on the road in front of her house with the understanding that he’d take Reese’s things over to her mother’s house and Carla would meet him at his place in half an hour. Her stomach twisted into wild knots of expectation. Every nerve ending went onto high alert and even her breathing seemed a little forced.
And a half hour had never seemed so long.
Still, there were a few things she had to take care of before she could head across the street and, well, get taken care of. Carla smiled to herself at the prospect and, humming, walked around the side of the house to the backyard.
She went straight to the puppy pen. The little guys tumbled all over themselves in their eagerness to greet her. Their yips and high-pitched barks drowned out the calming sound of the burbling water fountain.
“Well, hi, fellas,” she crooned as she unlatched the gate and stepped inside the enclosure.
Instantly what felt like dozens of tiny paws leaped at her. Carla squatted, taking the time to pet each of them in turn before checking their food and water bowls. Then she gave them a few more pets and kisses before saying good night and leaving the pen.
Hurrying into the house, she took the fastest shower on record but spared an extra moment to shave her legs again. Then she quickly dried off, slathered Sweet Pea body lotion on every inch of skin she could reach, and stepped into a pair of lacy panties before pulling on one of the few dresses she owned. A spaghetti-strapped sundress of pale yellow, it set off her tan and made her feel all girlie. And a little silly. Here she stood, dressing up, when all she wanted was to get undressed. With Jackson. But what the hell, she went for it. She whipped a brush through her hair, then gave it up as useless. There was just so much you could do with a headful of curls. Slapping some lip gloss on and giving her eyelashes a couple of quick strokes with the mascara wand, she stood back to inspect her reflection.
Finding You Page 21