“In November,” she repeated. “I remember you mentioned something about it a few days ago.”
“Yeah, November,” he whispered. “But I don’t think I asked you to go to the party. Do you want to go?”
A soft sigh escaped from her throat at his intense look, trapping her answer deep in her lungs.
“And I’m not taking no for an answer. I can hold off making love to you, but I’m not going to stop seeing you.”
This was getting way too confusing for Jen. Did she want to get to know Adam in that way? Did she want to risk her heart?
Did she want to see Kimberley again?
Because Jen sensed she would be seeing her sister soon if she allowed him to get any closer.
Jen wasn’t the only psychic in her family. Mom may have found her ability an abomination, but not her sister’s. Jen used her psychic ability for the good of others; Kimberley used hers for Kimberley. If her mother had any second sight abilities, she would be using it for the same reason.
“Well, honey?”
Jen pushed the feeling away, and focused on a different one. “Not many people stay married for thirty-seven years. I think it’s wonderful”
“Yeah,” he said, trapping her head firmly between his hands, pulling her face within inches of his lips. The brush of his mouth against hers left her breathless, forcing even her amazement away. “If you don’t want those students outside to see a real kiss, you’d better answer me.”
“Like they haven’t seen a real kiss before,” Jen said.
Adam slid his damp mouth along the line of her jaw, gently biting her earlobe. “They’ve never seen a Craine man kiss his woman.”
No, no, Jen thought. “Don’t call me that.”
He pulled away from her. “Call you what? My woman?”
“Yes.”
“Craine men are faithful. When we find the right woman, I mean.” Pinching her ear, he released her and sat back in his seat. “Even after death, if Grandpa Adam and Aunt Grace are any indication.”
“My family isn’t the forever kind.”
“I thought you told me your brother married his high school sweetheart.”
Jen smiled. “Ed’s the exception to the rule. I’m more like…a man, I guess. Use them, abuse them, and leave them.”
Adam didn’t comment as silence filled the truck. His hands clamped around the steering wheel now, knuckles white under the pressure of the grasp. She tried to look into his eyes, but he’d turned his head toward the slowly setting sun in the west.
“Don’t get upset, Adam. If I remember correctly, your friend thought I was someone named Erin. I didn’t get the impression she was the love of your life. You seemed uneasy.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“And why isn’t it?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Adam?”
“You never answered me about the anniversary party, Jen.”
The quickness of his words curved her mouth upward into a soft smile. “I didn’t?”
“Jen?”
“I’d love to go with you.”
“Good.”
Jen grinned at him before jerking her door open, jumping out of the humming vehicle, and running around to the driver’s side and pulling at his door. Deciding to ignore the interested looks and whispered words from the passing students, she said, “Come on, Adam Craine. I don’t want you mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you.”
Yet he stiffly got out of the truck to stand tight and firm in front of her, unyielding.
“You could’ve fooled me.” Jen placed her hand on his chest, playing her fingers around the roundness of an unopened button on his hip-length coat. “I have a little time before I have to teach my next class. Do you want to come to my office? We could talk more.”
He stared at her for a long moment, a warm, tempting look of heated desire.
“You plan on closing the door?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to say goodbye to you here.”
He didn’t give her any warning. Hot and sweet, full of promise and desire, he angled his lips over her mouth and devoured her. She opened up to his assault, attacking his probing tongue with her own, feeling a warm rush of wetness spread into the cotton panel of her panties.
He released her mouth as quickly as he’d taken it and leaped into his Ford.
“Adam?”
“Why should Grandpa Adam have all the fun?”
“He shouldn’t,” Jen replied. “And neither should Aunt Grace.”
Adam waved and started to pull away before stopping the vehicle and glancing back at her.
She moved to the window of his truck again. “Did you forget something?”
“I was only wondering,” he said. “When did we decide your horny ghosts were my great-great-grandfather and your great-great-aunt?”
“Good question.”
“Doing anything later today?”
“Nothing planned,” Jen answered. “Why?”
“I thought you might like to come up to the ranch.” His smile, wide and real, washed over her. “Mom told me the attic has stuff from generations of both sides of my family. Maybe we can find something up there to verify our assumption. I still have the box I showed you in Winter Creek. Remember?”
Damn, but did she remember that box, or more accurately, she remembered what had happened when he’d delivered the box. “It’ll be nice to put some faces to the names.”
“I’ll come and pick you up around…five?”
“Five sounds good to me.”
“You can have dinner with us too. I’ll see you later,” he said, as he waved and drove out of the parking lot.
“No,” she said out loud, yet her heart was yelling yes.
Damn, why did she ever make that stupid promise to her grandfather? If she’d never made it, she would’ve made love to this maddening man already and her heart would be safe.
As it was, she was in trouble.
Chapter 12
Jen still regretted agreeing to have dinner with Adam at his parents’ house. Even after grading the mostly mediocre but sometimes brilliant papers submitted by her senior students, she’d found it hard to get the feel of Adam’s kiss off her mouth, or out of her head. Just like at the college, trying to teach her final class, the memory of the damn kiss invaded her mind. Several times during her lecture she’d lost her train of thought.
The smartest thing she’d done in a long while was release her class early, thanking the dear Lord for the upcoming weekend. She’d left for her saloon minutes after her last class ended.
“Did your Adam do this to you, Grace?” she whispered to the empty room.
No answer came to her.
Securing her laptop in a hidden alcove above the desk, she closed the door before glancing around the room. One of Barb’s newest creations hung on a padded hangar on the fortified post of the removable barrier, and Jen stepped up to it and pulled it down. The gown, heavy and soft in her hands, dragged on the floor as she entered her sleeping area and stopped in front of the mirror.
Barb had promised her this would be the last dress.
“Might as well try it on,” she whispered. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
A cold fingerlike breeze moved over her cheekbone, followed by a barely heard ‘yes’.
“Hello, Grace.”
No ghostly fingertips slid over her skin now.
Jen felt her lips turn upward as she studied the smooth green and white dress in her hands. As she twisted and turned it, it seemed to simmer in the light, merging the colors together into a softer shade of green. When she placed it in front of her and stared at her image in the mirror, she drew in a long, deep breath. Letting it out quickly, she gathered the dress tight in her arms and stepped out of the room to grab her coat off a hook near the backroom’s door.
“I need help to get this baby on.”
Jen set Barb’s newest masterpiece carefully
on a table and put on her coat before picking the dress back up just as carefully. She stepped out of the saloon and headed down the street to the dressmaker’s shop. The door opened easily as she pushed on it, bringing with it the sound of her friend’s irate voice.
“Damn needle,” Barb said. “Damn him!”
“The needle is a male?” Jen moved to the table and set the dress on an empty corner of it. “Wow, what a disappointment that would be.”
“I’m beginning to believe men aren’t even good for sex.”
“If they’re only as big as the needle,” Jen said, feeling a grin trying to move over her mouth, “I can see why it wouldn’t be all that satisfying.”
“Damn men!” Barb glanced over at her, poking the needle into the pincushion near her. “And their stupid kids.”
“Oh, you’re pissed off at Wyatt’s daughter, Jamie.”
“No, not Jamie,” Barb said. “I still can’t believe Wyatt has a pre-teen daughter.”
Jen shook her head as a hazy image of a toddler came into her mind. The unclear picture left just as quickly as it entered, leaving her with a feeling of sadness and unease. She reached out with her senses to try to recapture the vague image, but the moment had passed. Never before had she sensed anything like it from her friend.
Was this hint of a child flowing briefly from Barb’s mind the reason she disliked Jamie? And was this the real reason she was pissed off at Wyatt?
Her friend was definitely hiding something important.
But Barb’s hidden past could wait until later. Now was not the time to be prying into her memories.
“I see you’ve decided to try on your new dress,” Barb said. “Here, I’ll help you into it. I could use a break for a few minutes.”
“Grace likes this one.”
“Oh,” Barb whispered, but didn’t seem to hear her. She grabbed the dress from the corner of the table and led Jen to the stairs at the back of her shop. “Come on up, and I’ll make some coffee.”
“I could use some coffee.” She followed the dressmaker up the stairs and entered her messy bedroom before closing the door. Her meeting with Adam’s entire family once again at the forefront of her brain, blocking out all the other images and voices, bringing back to her the true reason she’d come to Barb’s shop. “I was hoping we could talk for a while.”
“We can talk while you get undressed,” she said, indicating for her to strip. “This dress is a bit more daring than the others I’ve designed and made for you. Adam should like it.”
Oh, why in the hell did she have to mention him?
Jen’s hands rose to her lips and she traced the outline of them, remembering once again the fierceness of Adam’s forceful kiss. “December can’t come soon enough,” she whispered around her trembling fingers.
“I should have your problem.”
Jen shook her head. “Don’t be too sure. It’ll be a lot easier if he’d leave me be for a while.”
“So what happened to get you so upset?”
“You won’t believe it.”
“Try me.” Kicking the step-like platform into the middle of the room, Barb said, “Take off your shirt and jeans.” When she did so without question, Barb gathered the dress above her head and said, “Lift up your arms so I can put this on you.”
Jen stood still as her friend dropped the heavy material down her raised arms and rearranged it around her waist and breasts, tucking the upper cup of her white bra inside the tight material of the dress top. The straps of it cut deep into her shoulders. The soft simmering cloth barely held in the weight of her breasts, revealing more than she was willing to show.
“This is not working,” Barb said, frowning. “You’re going to have to take off your bra.”
“I’m not wearing this dress without protection.” Yet she reached back and unhooked her bra anyway. “I can’t breathe already and you haven’t even tightened the straps.”
“Just wait, Jen.” Barb grinned. “I think you’re going to like the results.”
“You think so?”
“You will after you see how the men react to you in it. Or rather, after Adam sees you in it.”
Jen didn’t respond.
“So, what do you need to talk to me about?”
“He wants me to have dinner with his parents,” Jen stated, without preamble. “Today he told me about some old papers and stuff in his attic from his great-great-grandfather’s day, and he invited me to go check them out with him.”
“So?”
“He met my father and brother at lunch today,” she added. “You should’ve seen him, Barb. He came waltzing into the restaurant, dressed to the hilt, with a dozen or so assorted flowers clutched in his big hands. I thought my dad was going to have a coronary right then and there.”
“How romantic,” Barb said, in a dreamy voice. “Why in the world did he go through all the trouble?”
“I’m not sure.” Jen gulped in a deep breath. “I think he was trying to impress me.”
Barb glanced up at her. “Did he?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “He kissed me in the parking lot.”
“What did you do to him then?” Barb walked around to stand behind her and grabbed the ends of the sturdy cloth hanging down her back. “Take a deep breath and hold it.”
Jen did as she was told and whooshed out her air as the top of the gown tightened hard and fast around her upper body. “Damn, this is tighter than any of the others.”
“It has to be.”
“Why?”
“Just quit complaining,” Barb said, a lilt warming up her tone. “You’re going to be amazed when you look in the mirror.”
“My boobs are flat.”
“No, they’re not.” Barb readjusted the material at her lower back, tightening the strings to her neck. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re upset about meeting Adam’s parents? You met his dad and older brother already. They seemed to like you.” She pulled the left string a tad tighter. “And why would a man’s innocent kiss put you in such a mood?”
“But I haven’t met his mother.” Jen breathed out roughly, inhaling again before saying, “Almost finished? Hard to hold…your breath…and talk.” Dragging in another long, deep breath, she added, “At the same time.”
Jen didn’t want to talk about how Adam’s kiss had affected her.
“Stop talking then,” Barb said, pulling on the string one last time before securing the ends together. She patted Jen’s back and rose from her half-crouching position. “Now you’re going to want to see how you look. And, knowing you as well as I do, you’re going to act shocked.”
“I won’t be shocked,” Jen said while moving off the step and wandering to the floor-to-ceiling mirror nailed to the wall near the bathroom door. “But don’t be surprised if I faint.”
Swishing material rubbed against her legs as she made her way to the mirror, the softness of the inner cloth caressing warm over her chilled legs. She placed her hand over her chest and pressed hard, trying to inhale the needed air to fill her lungs. No way could a piece of clothing this tight be good for a person. How Barb thought smashed boobs and sweeping wide hips were sexy was beyond her.
She stopped in front of the mirror and inhaled another tiny bit of air before glancing up and spied shock registering clear in her wide eyes.
“Cleavage,” she said. “I actually have cleavage.” Laughter rang out behind her causing Jen to look up into the mirror at her friend’s reflection. “What’s so funny, Barb?”
“You should see the look on your face.” She shook her head. “Every time you try on something sexy, you always look so amazed. I just don’t get it.”
“Okay, I admit I don’t look so bad.” Turning from side to side, Jen surveyed her well-portioned body in the glass. The simmering green of the dress brought out the hints of red flashing in her hair, causing it to glow in the brightness of the overhead light. She might not be as slim and suave looking as her mother and sister, but she did look good in the br
eath-stealing floor length gown. “I like it.”
“I’m glad.” Barb moved back to the step platform and waited for her to return. When she lingered at the mirror, Barb said, “Maybe you should make this your signature gown.”
“I like the red one better.” Jen gazed at her image a few more seconds before moving from the mirror toward her friend. “I can breathe better in the red dress.”
“If I remember correctly,” Barb said, glaring at her, “and I do remember correctly, you had the same complaint about the other dress too.”
“Hey, when you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe.”
Barb huffed.
Jen gulped in a lungful of air the moment the dress fell to the floor. But before she could grab another breath, Barb threw her bra at her and left the room. “Get dressed. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”
She dressed quickly and slid out of the bedroom before Barb had a chance to pull her working stool to the dressmaking table. The look of stunning surprise filling her features set Jen’s mind at ease. For a minute, Jen had felt guilty for doing something to upset her friend.
“What’s the matter?” Jen asked. “You seemed hurt.”
“So,” Barb said, looking down at her clenched hands. “Why don’t you want to meet Mrs. Craine?”
Her words soft and to-the-point, Jen clearly heard an invisible door slamming on whatever had been bothering her friend. When Barb wanted to talk, Jen would be there for her. Now she had her own questions to answer, and if she thought the inquisitive woman would give up on her, she’d been proven wrong. Jen should’ve known better. At least Barb wasn’t asking about the kiss.
“Well?”
Pulling out a second stool, Jen swung her legs over it and leaned into the messy table. “I do want to meet her. I’m just not ready to meet her now.”
“And why not?”
“It would be better that way,” Jen said. “Adam and I can’t be together now, so I think it would be better if I kept contact with his family to a minimum.”
Barb huffed again. “I don’t believe you. Having a relationship involves more than sex.”
Forgotten Memories Page 14