by Sandra Owens
He grinned. His work here was done.
* * *
Dinner had been filled with tension of the sexual kind. He’d cooked the steaks on her grill, and she’d bustled about, making a salad and a crusty French bread loaf. He’d taken every opportunity to brush up against her, soaking up her shivers and sighs. And now they were in her pottery studio.
“So, this is it,” she said as his gaze swept around the one-car garage that had been made over for a pottery artist.
Shelves along the wall were filled with inventory, and he walked over to take a closer look at all the things she’d made with her clever hands. A figurine of a dog sitting at a young woman’s feet caught his eyes. He picked it up. “How much is this one?” It reminded him of her and Rambo, and he wondered if the two of them had been her inspiration.
“It’s yours.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “It absolutely is, but what did you plan to sell it for?” He wasn’t going to leave here without it, but he wasn’t going to take food out of her mouth either. This piece of art created by her would go with him back to Afghanistan, and every time he looked at it, he would think of the time he’d had with her.
“A dollar.”
He snorted. “Such a little liar. If you charged anything less than fifty for this one, I’d call you a fool. Since I know you’re not, sold for fifty bucks, and I consider myself lucky to have it at that price.”
When she only stared back at him as if he were a man she’d never understand, he stalked to her. “Does your pottery wheel need time to warm up? I’m only asking because I feel the need for...” He lowered his mouth until it was an inch from hers, and satisfaction rolled through him when her breath hitched. “Getting messy. With you.”
“You have to take off your shirt.”
Her words came out breathless, and he brushed his lips over hers. Feeling breathless himself, he stepped back before he forgot why they were in her studio. He hooked his fingers under his T-shirt, then paused. She’d seen his scars, but he was still worried that they repulsed her.
“I’m not that other woman, Jack,” she said as if she could read his mind.
No, she wasn’t. Together they pulled the shirt over his head. She took it from him, dropping it on her worktable. He stilled as she walked behind him, and like she had at the waterfall, she glided her fingers gently over his shoulder. He wished he had the words to tell her what her touch meant to him, how incredible her hand felt sliding over his skin. Then she pressed her lips on the worst part, the ugliest, where he’d suffered third degree burns.
“Nichole,” he said, his voice no more than a whisper. Although he couldn’t feel much, knowing her mouth was on him there sent a shiver down his spine. She stepped in front of him, palmed his cheeks as she lifted to her toes, and then kissed him. He tangled his fingers in her hair, but before he could deepen the kiss, she backed away.
“If we keep that up, we’re going to forget why we’re here. We need the song.” She messed with her phone for a moment, and then “Unchained Melody” sounded from a Bluetooth speaker on her worktable. “I have it looped, so it’ll play as long as we want it to.”
“That’s good.”
She stared at him for a few seconds as her cheeks turned pink. She was blushing, and it was adorable.
He smiled as he trailed his fingers over the pink. “I’m nervous, too,” he said. Not really, but he wanted to put her at ease.
“So...” She glanced around. “Um, I’ll sit at my pottery wheel, and you can come in behind me. Just wait until—”
“I got this, Nichole.” He brushed his lips over hers.
“You know what? We don’t have to do this. I know you must think it’s silly.”
“We are so doing it.” At seeing the uncertainty in her eyes that he wasn’t just humoring her, he said, “Surprises me, too, that I want to go up against that Swayze dude in your fantasy, but he has smaller feet than I do, so I’m not worried.” She repaid him with the laugh he was going for to put her at ease.
“Big shoes to fill,” she said through her laughter.
“Those I got.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Do your thing.”
He positioned himself at the door, then waited a few minutes, and when she had a lump of clay on the wheel formed into an impressive duplication of the thing that had looked like a phallus in the movie, he moved behind her. Pulling a nearby stool over, he sat behind her.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he murmured, remembering that line or something close to it.
She tilted her head, looking up at him with the hint of a smile. “No. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Can’t sleep without your warm body next to mine.” He was adlibbing now, but the words felt right. He slid his hand under her hair, lifting it, then put his mouth on her neck, smiling when she shivered. “Your skin is so soft. And you smell so damn good, like vanilla and almonds. Makes me want to lick you.”
“Jack.”
That was it. One word. His name spoken on an exhale of breath, enough that he was the one shivering now. As he peppered kisses over her neck and shoulder, he trailed his hands down her arms until they covered hers.
“Messy,” he said as clay and water turned their skin gray.
She grinned up at him, and the happy light in her eyes was his undoing. He was making this woman’s fantasy come true, and in return she was breathing new life into his troubled soul. It wasn’t an equal exchange, what she was giving him compared to his only acting out a movie scene. But when she looked at him like that...
“I need to kiss you long and hard,” he said as he brought his messy hand to her face.
Unfortunately, he hit her giant phallus, causing it to bend over in a perfect replica of a limp penis. They both stared at it, and he could feel her shaking as she tried not to laugh.
“That’s not me, I swear.” That did it. She laughed so hard that she fell back on him. “Ah, now I have you where I want you.” He pulled her from her stool onto his lap.
She laughed so easily, something he’d noticed from the first when she’d been tangled up in Rambo’s leash. Instead of losing her temper with the puppy, she’d stood there, her eyes alight with amusement as she’d laughed. He wanted to soak up this joy of life she seemed to have.
As she stared up at him, he lost himself in her eyes, in the desire he saw in them, in her intoxicating scent, in the soft smile curving her lips. He felt like he was falling under a spell, that some kind of magic was swirling in the air around them.
“Nichole,” he said, his voice as rough and raspy as that of a lifelong smoker.
She softly smiled. “I know.”
How could she know what was in his mind, but he saw in her eyes that she did, that maybe she felt the magic, too. He closed the space separating their mouths, and when his lips touched hers, he moaned from the pure pleasure streaking through him. Wanting her closer, he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her tight against him.
She slid her hands around his neck, then up into his hair. She was probably smearing clay all over him, but he didn’t care. As the passion between them grew, she met every one of his demands, gave back as good as she got. Their tongues tangled, tasted, and explored.
Jack thought he was either having an out-of-body experience or perhaps a heart attack. The damn organ was beating so fast and hard that it sounded in his ears like a jackhammer hard at work tearing up the asphalt of a street.
He didn’t want to stop, but he forced himself to pull away. Any other woman, and he’d go for what could happen next between them, but Nichole wasn’t a one and done. He wanted something more with her, and despite his earlier declaration to himself, he wondered if they could sustain a relationship after he returned to his team if they worked at it.
How he was even thinking that so soon was surprising to say the least, but he felt a connection with her that he’d never ex
perienced with another woman. The thought of walking away from her when it was time to return to his team... No, maybe somehow they could make things work.
“I think I should probably go.” Before he couldn’t.
She pushed away, scooting back onto her stool. “Why?”
There was hurt and wariness in her eyes, and he regretted putting it there. But he was determined to do things right with her. “Believe me, I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.”
“Yeah, I am.” Was this even him saying these things? He’d never hesitated before when it was obvious a woman wanted him, but then he’d never before wanted things to go past a night or two.
“Sure, whatever.” She turned her back to him, picked up the broken phallus-looking thing and smashed it flat.
“Ouch,” he said, getting the message. Amused, he swallowed a chuckle. He was messing this up, though, and if he wanted to be welcome back, he needed to make her understand. He moved until his chest was to her back, putting his arms around her.
“Nichole, this thing between us, whatever it is, is different for me. I’ve only had one serious girlfriend from high school. I thought we had something, but within a month into my first deployment she cheated on me.”
She stilled in his arms, telling him she was listening. “When I found out, I decided then and there that I’d never have another serious relationship as long as I was in the navy. And I haven’t, not in the eleven years since. For me, it’s been one-offs with women who were only interested in the same thing.”
“Is there a but coming?”
“Yes, and that but is Nichole Masters. I don’t know what’s happening between us, but something is. We have about two months before I leave to figure it out. If that’s what you want.”
“And when you leave, what then?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll decide that when the time comes.”
When she didn’t say anything, he knew he was bungling this. “You’re not a one and done. You haven’t been from the start. I want to...” He searched for the right word. “I want to romance you. If you don’t want the same thing, tell me now because if not, I don’t think I can do this with you.”
He’d rather walk away now while there was still time to protect his heart. He’d explained it in the best way he knew how. His damn heart beat erratically as he waited for her answer. Maybe he shouldn’t have been honest with her, should have just let things play out.
Nichole squeezed her eyes shut. After his talk at the waterfall, she’d settled her mind on this being a fun fling until it was time for him to return to active duty. And truthfully, wasn’t that for the best?
After Lane, she’d said no more relationships, no more letting a man control her. That was never going to happen again. Her judgment was questionable, though. Lane hadn’t given any hint of his true personality in the beginning, and look where that had gotten her.
Yet the thought of Jack walking out of her life made her want to grab his hands and hold on to him. She turned to face him. The vulnerability and hope she saw in his eyes were things she’d never seen in Lane’s. Her ex-boyfriend believed he was entitled to take what he wanted, when he wanted, heedless of others’ wishes. She’d told him repeatedly that she didn’t want to see him, but he refused to listen. Didn’t care what she wanted.
Jack wasn’t like Lane. She knew if she told Jack that she didn’t want the same thing as him, he’d respect her decision and walk away, never bothering her again.
He would be leaving, returning to active duty. He’d said things would end then. Now, even though he wasn’t promising anything past his leave date, he was changing the rules, and she couldn’t turn her back on the chance that there could be something deeper between them. She could fall in love with this man, and that scared her. And if she did...well, she’d just stock up on wine and ice cream and wallow in her misery when he left.
“I do want to see where this goes.” Oh, that smile on his face was a beautiful thing to see. As much as she was determined to protect her heart, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to manage that trick.
“And you’ll let me do it right and romance you?”
She laughed. “Yes, Jack, I’d be honored to be romanced by you. That doesn’t mean you have to leave now, though.”
“Yes, it does.” He leaned forward and kissed her, long and hard. “I don’t trust myself around you, sweetheart.”
“Fine, be like that.”
He tapped her nose. “You’re adorable when you pout.”
“Ha! You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.”
“Bring it on.” He grinned as he patted his chest. “I’m man enough to take it.”
She suspected he was man enough to take a lot of things. He also confused her. There wasn’t a man in her experience who would be walking away after she’d invited him to stay, and he clearly wanted her. Although it was sweet that he wanted to romance her.
“There’s a sink over there.” She pointed to her left. “You might want to wash your hands before the clay dries.”
As he headed that way, her gaze roamed over him. The scars, especially the ones on his shoulder, were horrific, and she couldn’t imagine the pain and suffering he must have endured. They didn’t disgust her, but what did was the woman who’d made him feel like he had to hide them. She’d like to have a word or two with the witch.
The rest of him was perfection. She couldn’t wait to roam her hands over his strong back, broad shoulders, narrow waist, and lean hips. In fact, why wait? She stood and walked up behind him. She should probably wash her hands first, so she nudged in next to him.
Before she could grab the soap, Jack did, then he wrapped soapy hands around hers. He slowly caressed each finger. From there, he moved over her palms, then up her wrists to her arms. Their gazes locked and held. How could a man make washing her hands such a sensual thing?
“Hi,” he said, staring down at her, his attention on her mouth.
“Are you sure you want to leave?”
“Want to? No.” He turned off the water, then grabbed the towel hanging on a hook. “But I’m still going to.” He dried her hands and arms, then his. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
“Or I could cook you dinner.”
“Nope. I want to take you out. You like to dance?”
“I do.” She hadn’t been dancing in...well, like forever.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six. Let me collect Dakota, then I’ll get out of your hair.”
She put her hand on his arm. “You can get in my hair all you want, Jack.”
“Stop saying things like that. I’m having enough trouble leaving you as it is.”
Stubborn man. She walked him out and stood on her porch as he loaded Dakota into his truck. He looked back, then strode to her like a man on a mission, put his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him. He kissed her as if he were a drowning man and she was his air.
“See you tomorrow night,” he said after almost turning her knees to jelly.
Long after his taillights disappeared from view, she stared at the empty road. Never had a man so consumed her with want before, not even Lane when she’d thought she loved him. She was very much afraid Jack Daniels was going to break her heart.
Chapter Eight
The last time Jack dated was when he’d been with Tori. They’d been their high school’s cool couple, the star quarterback and the cheerleader. He thought she was the one, and asked her to marry him the day before he left for boot camp. She said yes, and he slipped an engagement ring on her finger. They lasted through his first months in the navy, through his BUD/S training but not past his first deployment. She decided a doctor would make a better husband than a military man would.
Truthfully, he was glad she’d realized that before they married, although he hadn’t appreciated her Dear John letter at the time, especially
since she admitted in the letter that she’d been seeing a doctor while Jack was dodging bullets in Afghanistan. She’d not only broken his heart but taught him a lesson. Girlfriends got lonely when their man wasn’t around, or so Tori had claimed.
After that he adopted the one-and-done motto of many of his teammates. That way he didn’t have to wonder if his girl was cheating on him when he wasn’t around. With hindsight matured by age, he realized he and Tori had been too young for a serious commitment. He would have never screwed around on her, but he doubted a marriage between them would have lasted.
As he shaved, getting ready for his date with Nichole, Jack studied his reflection in the mirror. It was still his face, but someone else had possessed his body. How else to explain walking away from Nichole when she’d clearly wanted him to stay the night? “Idiot,” he muttered, chuckling. But he was glad he had.
He was older now, as was Nichole, and maybe it could be different with her. The hope was growing that it could. And that was why he decided to slow things down. He didn’t want their relationship to feel like it was only about sex. He wanted them to get to know each other, to explore the possibilities, see where things could go. And just maybe...
Dakota put her paw on his leg, and he glanced down at her. “To answer your question, yes, I’m going out, and no, you can’t come this time.” Her nose dropped, pointing down at the floor. “Don’t give me that poor-pitiful-me look.” Her head lowered and her shoulders slumped. Ah hell, his dog could put a guilt trip on him like no one’s business.
He picked up his phone and called Nichole. “Hey,” he said when she answered. “I’m leaving shortly, but, well, this is probably going to sound stupid. Can Dakota stay with Rambo while we’re out? She’ll behave, I promise.” Dakota’s ears perked up at hearing her name.
Nichole laughed. “Are you asking if Rambo can babysit your dog?”
“Yeah, I guess I am. She’s giving me one of her dejected looks because I’m going out, and believe me, she’s perfected that expression.”
“That’s probably because it works on you. Of course you can bring her.”