by Nora Roberts
She’d worry about them later.
“You want me to take my hands off you?” They moved over her, rough and possessive. “Yes or no. Pick now.”
“No. Damn it.” She fisted her hands in his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers.
She didn’t know who pulled whom to the floor. It didn’t seem to matter. She couldn’t tell whose hands were more impatient as they tugged at clothing. She didn’t care.
All she knew was she wanted this rough, angry man every bit as much as she’d wanted the gentle, patient one. Her body was quaking for him, her heart bounding.
So much heat. She was amazed her system didn’t simply implode from it. The sharp stabs of pain and pleasure fused together into one unbearable sensation.
Tangled together, they rolled over the floor. She set her teeth at his shoulder, craving that wild flavor of flesh.
He’d forgotten what it was to let himself want like this, to take like this. Without restriction or boundaries. To rush and plunder. His fingers tore at the triangle of lace that blocked her from him. And he drove her up, hard and high.
The bite of her nails on his back was a dark thrill, the blind shock in her eyes a violent triumph. Desperate for possession, he yanked up her hips and plunged.
She rose up, that agile body quivering, her fingers digging into the rug for stability as he pounded into her. An elemental mating that fed on hot blood. Even as she cried out, he dragged her up until her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands found slippery purchase on his sweat-slicked shoulders.
She held on, riding the razor-tipped edge of pleasure, clinging to it, to him. When the climax ripped through her, shredding her system to tatters, she bowed back and let him take his own.
She melted like candle wax onto the floor when he released her. Then simply lay there, weak and sated.
She’d been ravaged. She had allowed it. And she felt wonderful.
Though his vision was still a little blurry at the edges, Brody studied her, then what was left of their clothes. “I ripped your shirt.” When her eyes fluttered open, he recognized the lazy gleam of a satisfied woman. “And these things.” He held up the tatters of her panties. “Well, I’m not going to apologize.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology.”
“Good. Because if you had, I’d have been forced to haul you outside again—naked this time—to find another neighbor. Instead you can borrow my shirt. I’ve got a spare in the truck.”
She sat up, took the offered shirt. The glow she’d felt was beginning to fade. “Are we still fighting?”
“I’m done, so I guess that’s up to you.”
She looked up. His eyes were clear now, and direct. This time it was she who fumbled—starting to speak, then shaking her head.
“No, go on. Say it. Let’s make sure the air’s completely clear.”
“You hurt my feelings.” It was lowering to admit it. Temper, she thought, was so much easier to handle than hurt.
“I get that.” He took the shirt from her, draped it over her shoulders. “And that’s something I will apologize for. If it helps any, you hurt mine right back.”
“What are we doing, Brody?”
“Trying to figure each other out, I guess. I’m not embarrassed by what we’ve got going on, Kate. I don’t want you to think that. But I don’t have a handle on it yet.”
“All right, that’s fair enough.” But it hurt a lot, she realized as she shrugged into the borrowed shirt. Hurt that she’d fallen in love, and he hadn’t. Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. She smiled a little, leaned over and up to kiss him. “You’re not a jerk. I’m sorry I called you one.”
He caught her chin. “You called me something worse than that, didn’t you?”
Now the smile spread and was genuine. “Maybe.”
“I’m going to buy a Ukrainian phrase book.”
“Good luck. Besides they just don’t have certain descriptive words and phrases in there.”
“I’m getting one anyway.” He got to his feet, drew her up to hers. “I’ve got to go pick up my kid.”
His hair was a sexy mess, his eyes lazily satisfied. He was naked to the waist. And, she thought, he was a father who had to pick up his little boy from the school bus.
“That’s part of it, isn’t it? Part of your problem with getting a grip on our relationship? Trying to juggle the man and the father together.”
“Maybe. Yes,” he admitted. “Kate, there hasn’t been anyone in…” He lifted a hand, smoothed it over his hair in some attempt to order it. “Connie was sick for a long time.” He couldn’t talk about that now, couldn’t go back there. “Jack had a rough start. I guess we both did. All I can do is make up for it.”
“You have. And you are. I know how to juggle, too, Brody. I think we can keep the balls in the air. As long as we both want to.”
“I want to.”
Her heart settled. “Then that’s also fair enough. Go get Jack.”
“Yeah.” His gaze skimmed down. “Before I do, I’d just like to say you sure look good in flannel.”
“Thanks.”
“You want a lift home?”
“No. I really do have some things to finish up here.”
“All right.” He lowered his head, touched his mouth to hers. Ended up lingering. “Gotta go.” But when he got to the door, he glanced back. “You want to go out Saturday night?”
Her eyebrow lifted. It was the first time he’d actually asked her out. It was, she supposed, some sort of progress. “I’d love to.”
How it got to be spring break when it seemed they’d just gotten through Christmas vacation, Brody didn’t know. School days had certainly not flown by when he’d been a kid.
Added to that, the Skullys had decided to take advantage of the time off to take the kids to Disney World. This had caused major problems with Jack who’d begged, pleaded and had fallen back on whining over the idea that they should go, too.
Brody had explained why it wasn’t possible just now, patiently sympathized. Then had fallen back on the parental copout—because I said so—when the siege had shown no sign of ending.
As a result, he’d had a sulky kid on his hands for two days, and a raging case of the guilts. The combination made it very crowded in the small bathroom where he was trying to lay tile.
“You never let me go anywhere,” Jack complained. He was thoroughly bored with the small pile of toys he’d been allowed to bring along.
Usually he liked coming to the job with his dad. But not when his best friend was in Disney World riding on Space Mountain. It was a gyp. A big fat gyp, he thought, relishing one of the words he’d picked up from the crew.
When his father ignored him and continued to lay tile, Jack stuck out his bottom lip. “How come I couldn’t go to Grandma’s?”
“I told you Grandma was busy this morning. She’s going to come by and pick you up in a couple of hours. Then you can go over to her house.” Thank God.
“I don’t want to stay here. It’s boring. It’s not fair I gotta stay here and do nothing while everybody else has fun. I never get to do anything.”
Brody shoved his trowel into the tray of adhesive. “Look. I’ve got a job to do. A job that sees to it you eat regular.”
Damn it, how was his father’s voice suddenly coming out of his mouth?
“I’m stuck with it,” he added, “and so are you. Now keep it up, Jack. Just keep it up, and you won’t be going anywhere.”
“Grandpa gave me five dollars,” Jack said, tearing up. “So you don’t have to buy me any food.”
“Great. Terrific. I’ll retire tomorrow.”
“Grandma and Grandpa can take me to Disney World, and you can’t go.”
“They’re not taking you anywhere,” Brody snapped, cut to the bone by the childish slap. “You’ll be lucky to go to Disney World by the time you’re thirty. Now, cut it out.”
“I want Grandma! I want to go home! I don’t like you anymore.”
Kate wa
lked in on that, and the resulting angry, tired tears. She took one look at Brody’s exhausted, frustrated face, the cranky little boy sprawled weeping on the floor, and stepped into the fray.
“What’s all this, Handsome Jack?”
“I wanna go to Disney World.”
He sobbed it out, between hiccups. Even as Brody got to his feet to deal with it, Kate crouched down between father and son. “Oh, boy, me, too. I bet we’d all like to go there more than anyplace.”
“Dad doesn’t.”
“Sure he does. Dads like to go most of all. That’s why it’s harder for them, because they have to work.”
“Kate, I can handle this.”
“Who said you couldn’t?” she muttered, but picked up the boy and got to her feet. “I bet you’re tired of being cooped up, aren’t you, baby? Why don’t we go to my house awhile, and let Dad finish his work?”
“My mother’s coming by to get him in a couple of hours. Just let me—” He reached for his son who only curled himself like a snake around Kate—and effectively cut his heart in two.
One look at the blank hurt on Brody’s face made her want to sandwich Jack between them in a hard hug. But that, she thought wasn’t the immediate answer. Distance was.
“I’m done for the day here, Brody. Why don’t you let Jack come home with me, keep me company.” Take a nap, she mouthed. “I’ll call your mother and ask her to pick him up at my house instead.”
“I want to go with Kate.” Jack sobbed against her shoulder.
“Fine. Great.” The miserable mix of temper and guilt had him snatching up his trowel again. Very much, Kate thought, like a cranky boy. “Thanks.”
He sat down heavily on an overturned bucket as he heard Jack sniffle out, as Kate carried him off: “My daddy yelled at me.”
“Yes, I know.” She kissed Jack’s hot, wet cheek as she walked downstairs. “You yelled at him, too. I bet he feels just as sad as you do.”
“Nuh-uh.” With a heavy, heavy sigh, Jack rested his head on Kate’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t take me to Disney World like Rod.”
“I know. I guess that’s my fault.”
“How come?”
“Well, your dad’s doing this job for me, and he promised me it would be done by a certain time. Because he promised, I made promises to other people who are depending on me now. If your dad broke his promise to me, then I broke mine to the other people, that wouldn’t be right. Would it, Jack?”
“No, but, maybe just this one time.”
“Does your dad break his promises to you?”
“No.” Jack’s head drooped.
“Don’t be sad, Handsome Jack. When we get to my house, we’re going to read a story about another Jack. The one with the beanstalk.”
“Can I have a cookie?”
“Yes.” In love, she gave him a hard squeeze.
He was asleep almost before Jack sold his cow for magic beans.
Poor little boy, she thought, tucking a light throw over him. Poor Brody.
She began to think she hadn’t given the man enough credit. Parenthood wasn’t all wrestling on the floor and ball games in the yard. It was also tears and tantrums, disappointments and discipline. It was saying no, having to say no, when your heart wanted to say yes.
“You’re so well loved, Handsome Jack,” she murmured and bent over to kiss the top of his head. “He needs you to know that.”
And so is he, she thought with a sigh. “I wish the man would buy a clue. Because I’m not waiting much longer. I want both of you.”
When the phone rang, she snatched it from the cradle. “Hello. Ah.” Smiling now, she walked out of the room so as not to disturb Jack. “Davidov. What have I done to deserve a call from the master?”
Later, though she admitted it was foolish, Kate freshened her makeup and tidied her hair. It was the first time she would meet Brody’s parents. Since she intended for them to be her in-laws, she wanted to make a good impression.
Jack had wakened from his nap energized. This had called for some running around the backyard, a fierce battle with action figures and a race with miniature cars that had resulted in a satisfying wreck of major proportions.
They finished the entertainment off with a snack in the kitchen.
“My dad’s mad at me,” Jack confided over slices of apple and cheese.
“I don’t think so. I think he’s a little upset because he couldn’t give you what you wanted. Inside, parents want to give their children everything that would make them happy. But sometimes they can’t.”
She remembered throwing some impressive tantrums herself—snarls followed by sulks. And ending, she thought, like this in guilty unhappiness.
“Sometimes they can’t because it’s not the best thing, or the right thing just then. And sometimes because they just can’t. When your little boy cries and yells and stomps his feet, it makes you mad for a while. But it also hurts your heart.”
Jack lifted his face, all big eyes and trembling lips. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. And I bet if you tell him you’re sorry, you’ll both feel better.”
“Did your dad ever yell at you?”
“Yes, he did. And it made me mad or unhappy. But after a while, I usually figured out I deserved it.”
“Did I deserve it?”
“Yes, I’m afraid you did. There was this one thing I always knew, even when I was mad or unhappy. I knew my dad loved me. You know that about your dad, too.”
“Yeah.” Jack nodded solemnly. “We’re a team.”
“You’re a great team.”
Jack turned his apple slices around, making pictures and patterns. She was pretty, he thought. And she was nice. She could play games and read stories. He even liked when she kissed him, and the way she laughed when he pretended not to like it. Dad liked to kiss her, too. He said he did, and he didn’t lie.
So she could maybe marry his dad—even though Dad said she wasn’t going to—and then she could be Dad’s wife and Jack’s mother. They’d all live together in the big house.
And maybe, sometime, they could all go to Disney World.
“What are you thinking about so hard, Handsome Jack?”
“I was wondering if—”
“Oops.” She smiled, rising as she heard the doorbell. “Hold that thought, okay? That must be your grandma.”
She gave Jack’s hair a quick rub and hurried out to answer. With her hand on the knob, she took a quick bracing breath. Silly to be nervous, she told herself. Then opened the door to Mr. and Mrs. O’Connell.
“Hi. It’s good to see you.” She stepped back in invitation. “Jack’s just in the kitchen, having a snack.”
“It’s good of you to watch him for Brody.” Mary O’Connell stepped inside, tried not to make her quick scan of the entrance too obvious. She’d fussed with her makeup, too—much to her husband’s disgust.
“I enjoy spending time with Jack. He’s great company. Please come on back. Have some coffee.”
“Don’t want to put you out,” Bob said. He’d been in the house plenty. When you fixed people’s toilets, you weren’t particularly impressed by their doodads and furniture.
“I’ve got a fresh pot. Please, come in—unless you’re in a hurry.”
“We’ve got to—”
Bob broke off as his wife gave him a subtle elbow nudge. “We’d love a cup of coffee. Thank you.”
“Brody’s going to be remodeling the kitchen for my mother,” Kate began as they walked back. “My parents love the work he’s done in the rest of the house.”
“He always was good with his hands,” Mary commented and gave her husband a quiet look when he folded his lips tight.
“He’s certainly transformed the old house I bought. Hey, Jack, look who I’ve got.”
“Hi!” Jack slurped his chocolate milk. “I’ve been playing with Kate.”
Like father like son, Bob thought sourly, but his heart lifted as it always did at the sight of Jack’s beaming face. “Wh
ere’d you get the chocolate cow, partner?”
“Oh, we keep her in the garden shed,” Kate said as she got out cups and saucers. “And milk her twice a day.”
“Kate’s got toys. Her mom has a whole store of toys. She said how on my birthday we can go there and I can pick one out.”
“Isn’t that nice?” Mary slid her gaze toward Kate, speculated. “How is your mother, Kate?”
“She’s fine, thanks.”
Mary approved of the way Kate set out the cups, the cream and sugar. Classy, but not fussy. And the ease with which she handed Jack a dishrag so he could wipe up a bit of spilled milk himself.
Good potential mother material, she decided. God knew her little lamb deserved one. As for potential wife material, well, she would see what she would see.
“Everyone’s talking about your ballet school,” she began, flushing slightly at her husband’s soft snort. “You must be excited.”
“I am. I’ve got several students lined up, and classes begin in just a few weeks. If you know anyone who might be interested, I’d appreciate it if you’d spread the word.”
“Shepherdstown’s some different from New York City,” Bob said as he reached for the sugar.
“It certainly is.” Kate’s voice was smooth and easy—though she’d heard the snort. “I enjoyed living in New York, working there. Of course it helped considerably that I had family there as well. And I liked the traveling, seeing new places, having the opportunity to dance on the great stages. But this is home, and where I want to be. Do you think ballet is out of place here, Mr. O’Connell?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know anything about it.”
“It happens I do. And I think a good school of dance will do very well here. We’re a small town, of course,” she added, sipping her coffee. “But we’re also a college town. The university brings in a variety of people from a variety of places.”
“Can I have a cookie?”
“Please,” Jack’s grandmother added.
“Can I please have a cookie?”
Kate started to rise, then let out a gasp as she saw Brody through the glass on the back door. With a shake of her head, she walked over to open it. “You gave me such a jolt.”