“I could shoot you the same question. Your home life was rainbows and puppy dogs, but you’ve got some major issues with the ‘L’ word, followed by the ‘M’ word.”
They sat in silence again for what seemed like several minutes.
“Exactly. You’d think our views would be switched.” His voice was slow and quiet, as if he’d just come to a realization.
“I know you had a rough time with Gina, but not all women think or act like she does. We’re not all out to take advantage of you. You can’t give up…” She couldn’t go on and lecture him about failed relationships. She might as well print up a sign and tell him—tell him what, Jill? No, she had to take this slow. Feed his learning to trust lessons one spoonful at a time.
“You know, even though my mom had a rotten marriage, she never stopped believing she could find love. I remember her crying at romantic movies, tearing up over a good love story she’d read. She turned to jelly when I went to my first dance.”
“A romantic at heart.”
“I grew up watching a strong woman not give up. Love isn’t something to fear but to hope for. Hope that someday you’ll find that perfect someone meant especially for you.” Jill fidgeted in her seat.
“So you hold out for the dream.” His soft voice caressed her skin. Tiny goose bumps flecked her forearms.
“Like my mother, I believe. Love is real. It’s out there. For everybody. If you want it.”
“Do you feel pregnant?”
“I don’t know. Jeez, it’s not like I have anything to compare it to.” Jill studied the strip closer.
Damn test would’ve been easier to read if she were blind. A line meant positive. He peered over her shoulder, his fingers curving around her upper arm. Neither of them were sure if what showed in the little square window was a line or a figment of their imaginations. Maybe it meant negative.
Jill shook it, like an old-time thermometer. Chet’s breath brushed the side of her neck when he chuckled.
“I don’t think that’s part of the process.”
Her fingertips whitened as she gripped the test, raising it toward the vanity light. She concentrated her gaze until her eyes blurred. “I give up.”
Jill tossed the strip into the metal trash container under her bathroom sink and pushed the cabinet door closed with her foot.
“Maybe you were right and we should try it again in the morning. First thing.”
Not sure if she could stand another round of pressure, she left the bathroom. She sensed him behind her, so close heat trickled along her spine.
“Fine.” She plopped down on the edge of the bed, facing him. He stopped in front of her, hands shoved in the front pockets of his faded jeans. “What? You want to meet here at first light or camp out on my floor?” The absurdity of the situation hit her and she grinned. He did, too, and within seconds they both laughed.
“The last few days have been nothing if not surreal.” Chet fingered his already tousled hair.
“You got that right.”
When he joined her on the edge of her bed, she relaxed. She loved times like this. Although things between them might be stressed, this proved they could still tease each other and laugh.
“You couldn’t have bought an easier test to read?” he asked around his chuckle.
“The pharmacist said it was the most accurate one.”
“Next time maybe we should pick one out together?”
They both sobered. He sounded like the other half of a couple trying to become pregnant. As if they’d continue to buy tests each month until they scored the coveted pregnancy points.
Her heart sank. She’d much prefer being a happy family, waiting anxiously for the results with someone she loved and who loved her back.
“Let’s leave all this behind. You have the ingredients for spaghetti right?” Chet stood.
She nodded, her tension leaving at the boyish way he rocked on the balls of his feet.
“I think it’s time you taught this bachelor how to cook. And spaghetti should be an easy recipe to learn. Right?”
“Right.”
She took his offered hand. The warmth of their palms coming together sent a tingle of pleasure up her arm and released the butterflies in her belly.
…
Jill laughed. “We’ll be here all night if you’re going to chop vegetables that way. Quick, precise motion and you’ll be done in no time.”
Her contagious laughter seeped through Chet and he stopped cutting the radishes as if measuring for exact thickness. “I can’t help the way I work.”
“You want me to show you how to slice and dice like a pro?”
“How about you slice and I’ll boil the water?”
She moved toward him, rolling her eyes. The soft sway of her hips brushed against him as she bumped him aside. “No way. Everyone should know how to fend for themselves, and it all starts with cutting vegetables.”
He chuckled. “It does?”
Jill nodded, taking another knife from the butcher block. She grabbed two peeled carrots and placed them in front of her, wielding her knife as if it were another appendage. She chopped with speed and accuracy, the tip of the knife never leaving the surface, in assembly line fashion. Within seconds she had a uniform pile of sliced carrots. She glanced at him sideways, the thin line of one brow arched.
“You ready to try?”
“I think it’ll take more than me watching you once.” He tugged at his collar as the temperature in the kitchen elevated. Or maybe it was just watching her do something she enjoyed with such ease and skill.
“You’ve seen me work before. This was just a little more up close and personal.”
“Maybe I need you to guide me. More of a hands-on lesson.” He played with fire, but didn’t care.
Her laughter sent a shiver across his flesh. He could get used to having Jill around day in and day out. He enjoyed cooking with her, talking and laughing and being a couple.
Whoa, Castle. Couple?
Jill licked her lips, then pushed her way in front of him so that the heat of her back rushed across the awakening senses of his front.
Chet wanted to kiss her. Hell, more than kiss her. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
“Now pay attention, Chet.” She tossed him a playful glance over her shoulder before nudging him in the abdomen with her elbow. “This is how my mother taught me to wield a knife with pro-like precision. At the ripe old age of nine, I might add.”
“I’m listening.” His entire body went on alert with her backside pressed against him. He moved closer. The rustle of his shirt mingled with the thin cotton of her blouse. Her floral scent filled every lungful of air, and he closed his eyes, savoring the torture of wanting to touch her but knowing that’d be a bad idea.
“Put your hands over mine, close your eyes, and relax. Follow my movements as I slice. I’ll start out slow and we’ll work up speed.”
He swallowed again. Not once, or twice, but three times. He couldn’t stop the fire filling his veins as he placed his hand over the top of her slender fingers. Soft and sensuous, he closed his eyes as their hands worked in unison.
Who’d have thought chopping veggies for a salad could be a turn on?
His throat dried. Wisps of her hair grazed his cheek, and he pressed into her.
Her fingers worked quickly, and he matched her pace, but his mind was not on learning a new kitchen duty, but all about doing his duty in the kitchen. He wanted to turn Jill into his arms and kiss her senseless. Or maybe try to kiss some sense into himself? Turned on beyond words, he pressed into her backside, nuzzling her ear, and reveling in the feel of her body sagging into his. Her chopping motions faltered and stalled.
“Ow! Damn it, I cut my—”
Chet reacted before he could think. He turned Jill to face him to inspect her cut. A thin knick on the edge of her finger produced a tiny drop of blood.
“You’re going to make it.” His voice came out husky.
Her ragged breath
fanned his hand, but when she craned her neck upward, her shallow breathing caressed his chin. His concentration went from her finger to the rise and fall of her chest, then to her lips.
“Let me kiss it and make it better.” He played with more than fire now and he didn’t care.
“Chet…”
He didn’t give her the chance to say anything more. With deliberate slowness, he suckled the tip of her finger. Desire tore threw him when Jill’s gasp turned to a raspy groan. Her eyes darkened.
He withdrew her finger from his mouth and her lips parted, her tongue darting out to moisten them. That was all the invitation he needed.
His mouth hovered over hers. Chet brushed his knuckles over her cheek, then he crushed his lips against hers, gathering her into his arms until her chest was pressed against him, their hearts beating as one.
He wrapped one palm around the side of her neck, feeling the frantic beats from the tiny pulse point at the base of her throat.
Her moan-like purr trembled against his lip, the vibration sending a desperate plea through him, and he lifted her slightly off the floor. Every womanly curve pressed into his hard flesh and penetrated straight to his bloodstream.
Jill’s fingers dug into his shoulders, and she held on to him as if she’d never let go. Hell, he didn’t want her to. He growled deep within his throat at the pain of her fingernails digging into his skin.
He wanted Jill Adgate like never before. He wanted her now and he wanted her tomorrow and he wanted…
With jerky breaths he pulled back. On fire with passion, her face glowed. Her swollen lips, lustful eyes, and pink-tinged flesh all clues to her arousal.
“Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” Jill leaned away from him.
Her sexy voice, along with her closeness, had him pushing against his zipper, stressing the fabric at the seams. He stepped back, putting some cooling space between them, and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. If Jill stayed any longer in his home, he’d have to install a walk-in freezer or a cold shower in every room.
“It’s definitely hot. Hell, that kiss was hot. Jill—”
She hushed him with the tip of her finger on his lips. “Don’t say it. A kiss is just a kiss.”
Her bottom lip trembled, but she managed a smile before turning back toward the butcher’s block, chopping the remaining vegetables as he stood, unable to speak.
Damn, he wanted to continue their cooking lesson upstairs in his room. Good thing she remained strong.
Chet sagged into the counter behind her. Jill’s back muscles worked against the thinness of her blouse, and he followed the line of her back down to the soft curve of her hips and lower still. He closed his eyes in an attempt to control his desires.
What the hell was happening to him? No woman had ever gotten under his skin like Jill. If he didn’t watch his step, his feelings for her might go from enjoying her company to needing her company to having to have it in order to survive.
Would that be so bad, Castle?
“Grab me a bowl, will you?”
“U-uh, sure.”
At least one of them could still function.
He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. His hands shook, and for the first time in his life, his own weakness didn’t bother him. There was no way he’d ever be the same guy who walked into this kitchen thirty minutes ago to help cook a spaghetti dinner.
Chapter Nineteen
“I give up.” Jill tossed the second test into the trash to join the first. The results were no more readable than the night before.
“Do you want to buy another brand?” Chet leaned against the bathroom counter. Dressed for work, he stood with the overhead light creating a halo of soft amber tints against the dark brown of his hair.
After their kiss last night, Jill couldn’t believe she could still stand in his presence. Her entire body was tuned to him. Thoughts of pretending to be ill this morning had crossed her mind. But if she’d gone that route, he’d only be more convinced than ever she was pregnant.
“No. At this rate we’ll develop ulcers before we get an accurate reading, or one we understand.” She chuckled, the hollow sound filling her ears and mingling with the blood rushing through them. “I guess I’ll make a doctor appointment and have them take one there.”
“They probably have a more sophisticated test. If you’re pregnant a smiley face turns pink and streamers come down from the ceiling with balloons.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked from her bedroom.
“That way there’s no doubt,” Jill said.
He almost sounded excited by the prospect. Or was he trying to put her at ease with his humor?
After they ate a silent breakfast together for the first time in several weeks, Chet left for work. Later that morning, Jill called her doctor and scheduled an appointment. Due to a cancellation, she would be able to go the following afternoon.
She sent Chet a text with the news and went about her daily duties, trying to keep her mind occupied. As the hours passed, she couldn’t fight the sadness filling her. Something inside didn’t feel right and it enveloped her in a black mood.
She fanned her fingers across her belly. Funny, with most everything out in the open and she and Chet on speaking terms again, her stomach hadn’t acted up once.
Unable to concentrate on even the simplest of tasks, she put the meat she’d been prepping for the evening’s dinner back into the fridge. She poured herself a glass of iced tea and added a spoonful of sugar.
She couldn’t get Chet out of her head. Images of them together played out like a motion picture in her mind. She plopped herself onto the barstool. Her heart raced as thoughts of last night’s kiss took hold. No decision had been reached about how they’d go about their marriage—if indeed there would be a marriage.
She placed her glass on the counter, touching her lips, still feeling Chet there.
This wasn’t good. She’d been lying to herself for weeks. She’d fallen in love with a man who’d never be able to love her back, no matter how patiently she waited.
So not good. She rested her face in the palms of her hands. When had she lost control of her emotions and fallen?
To be with Chet and have him in her life would be the best thing to ever happen to her. She loved him. Simple and direct. But her sensible side didn’t want them together like this. Not over a supposed baby. She’d love to have Chet’s child—children, for that matter—but by the more normal route. Love first, then commitment, marriage, and a family—a family they both wanted.
Outside, sun filled the sky and lit puffy white clouds as far as the eye could see. There was no trace of last night’s storm, except for the lush green lawns and blooming flowers and the fresh sweetness in the air. Jill grabbed her drink and made her way to the side door and leaned into it. Well-maintained planters and bird feeders filled the deck. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass.
She blinked back tears and her chin trembled. This wasn’t how she wanted her life to be.
Jill moved to the sink and dumped her drink. She couldn’t do this. If she were pregnant, she’d have to go it alone. Chet would have to accept it. She could never stay with him for the sake of a child. No matter how much she loved him, pregnancy wasn’t enough of a basis to get married.
She wanted him to love her for who she was, and it would kill her, slowly, to be with him day after day without that.
Sure, over time his feelings might develop into love, but she wanted the all-consuming kind. The movie love. She wanted him to love her first, then the rest could follow.
If they married for a baby, she’d never know if something developed between them because he truly loved her or just because she was convenient. The mother of his child. She couldn’t live with that. She wouldn’t settle.
Jill packed away the rest of the food still on the counter and headed upstairs. She’d made a tough decision today. Staying was no longer an option. This situation wouldn’t be healthy for her, Chet, and especially
a baby.
As for dinner, he would have to settle for leftovers. Or make a huge helping of Bachelor’s Special.
…
Chet disconnected from the conference call and slid his chair away from his desk. He propped his feet on top of the solid oak monstrosity. His great, great-grandfather’d had the desk specially built. For close to seventy years, it sat in the office of the head of Castle Engineering. Chet crossed his ankles, leaned back, and rested his arms against the headrest of his chair.
He’d fumbled through the business call, his mind unable to take in any information because Jill consumed his thoughts. Her smiling face. The way her raspy voice and seductive laughter sent arrows of awareness through him. How her eyes sparkled when she was excited about something, or darkened with passion when he kissed her. Her sweet smell and how she made him feel so good with just a look or a comment.
Although he hadn’t slept more than a few hours last night, lying in bed staring at the ceiling long after they’d finished their meal, he felt refreshed, focused, and alert. And scared. His heart twisted. So sure one minute and so unsure the next. Not unsure of himself, but of Jill.
Chet dragged his hands down his face and sat forward. In the early morning hours, he’d finally come to terms with his issues, and his whole body pulsed at the realization.
Thoughts of being with one person—forever—scared him to death. Well, it had until last night, anyway. His newfound feelings were too raw. In the darkness of his room he’d tossed around the “L” word and threw the four letters against the wall. Lust. It wasn’t the only effect Jill had on him.
At about four in the morning, he sat straight up in bed, ready to face facts and quit lying to himself. Another “L” word bounced around his brain. He finally managed to roll it across his tongue several times, and it hadn’t tasted bitter but sweet.
Love.
He was a goner and glad to be on the team.
He’d been such a blind fool. From the start, his attraction toward Jill had been different. That should’ve been his first clue. Emotions he’d never had before—for any woman—hit him smack between the eyes. And in the heart. Sure, he lusted for her, but love was the glue that held all his fears, hopes, and dreams together. Jill had become the central focus of his life.
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