His Touch

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His Touch Page 24

by Mary Lynn Baxter


  “We’ll go, or we will if Elliot’s game, that is. I think it’s a great idea.” Brant paused and angled his head. “Unless you weren’t serious.”

  “Uh, no,” Jessica said, wetting her lower lip, feeling like she’d just been tossed in the ocean without a life jacket. “I was serious.”

  “I’ll call him, then.”

  Had she lost her mind for further involving herself in Brant’s personal life when it wasn’t necessary? And a pleasure outing with him and Elliot was definitely not necessary. Trying to mask her trepidation and shaking hands, Jessica saw her bag on the floorboard as a life-line.

  She reached for it, and so did Brant.

  Their fingers touched, and they both froze. Faces as close as hands, they stared at each other. She saw his eyes focus on her parted, moist lips. She knew he was going to kiss her. She ached for him to kiss her.

  He licked his own lips, then jerked back, cursing profusely.

  Feeling color sting her cheeks, Jessica turned away, her heart threatening to burst.

  “Dammit, Jessica,” Brant spat in a tormented voice.

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  Suddenly he leaned across, clutched her chin and brought her face back around. “Don’t think for one second I don’t want you.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on the throbbing hardness between his legs.

  Oh, dear Lord, she cried silently. “Brant, please,” she whispered, feeling a new surge of raw desire spread through her.

  “If I went with my gut, I’d press you back into that plush seat, hike up that designer skirt, jerk your hose down and take you right here.” His voice sounded strained to the breaking point, even as he placed her hand back in her lap.

  Then why don’t you?

  “But the next time I make love to you, I don’t want it to be under these circumstances, when you’re stressed or frightened. I want you to want me because of who I am, dammit, not because you need a warm, comforting body.”

  Jessica didn’t say a word. She simply didn’t know what to say. Her heart was too full.

  “I’m so glad to see you.”

  After exchanging hugs with Veronica, Jessica echoed, “Me too. It seems like forever since we’ve gotten together.”

  “And done lunch,” Veronica said with a grin.

  Jessica pulled out her chair. “Well, let’s sit. I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Oh, pooh,” Veronica countered in a huffy tone. “You and your schedule. Don’t you ever want to just chuck that fancy watch of yours and say to hell with it?”

  Jessica smiled. “More often than you know.”

  “Then I suggest you just do it.”

  The waitress appeared and took their orders. Alone again, they faced each other. Veronica was the first to speak, cocking her head toward a table several yards from them. “You could’ve asked Brant to join us, you know. I wouldn’t have minded.”

  “But I would.”

  Veronica’s eyes widened. “Ouch!”

  Jessica rolled hers at her friend’s dramatic antics. “Don’t try to make something out of nothing.”

  “Who, me?” Veronica asked with a grin. “I guess you do need a little space, huh?”

  Jessica frowned. “It’s not only him, it’s the whole mess. I’m getting tired of living my life in turmoil.”

  “I’m sure.” Veronica’s eyes clouded. “It seems like you’ve had a long run of bad luck. But you’re not thinking about abandoning thoughts of reelection, are you?”

  “Heavens no.”

  “Good, because I’ve come up with some great ideas for slogans and logos.”

  “Actually I can’t wait to really knuckle down and work on my campaign plans, but for the next few weeks, I have too much on my agenda.”

  “Thurmon, too,” Veronica said. “Mostly busting his buns trying to nail that sicko’s butt.”

  “And I appreciate it, too. It’s just that it’s taking so much longer than I expected.”

  “I feel the same.” Veronica paused. “So tell me about the trip. Except the credit card nightmare. My better half’s already told me about that. I bet that sent you into a tizzy.”

  “I was furious and frustrated, to put it mildly.” Jessica paused while the waitress placed their veggie wraps and fruit plates in front of them, then refilled their iced tea glasses.

  A short time later, she added, “But that was nothing compared to the elevator incident.”

  “Elevator incident?” Veronica looked dumbfounded. “Whatever are you talking about?”

  Jessica told her the horror of being trapped and how Brant had come to her rescue. What she didn’t mention, of course, was their long night of lovemaking that had followed. She still couldn’t share that secret, not even with her best friend.

  “My gosh, how awful. I bet Brant was beside himself.”

  “He was that, and I was shaken to the core.” Jessica shivered. “It seems I’m developing claustrophobia in my old age.”

  “Hell’s bells, age has nothing to do with it. If that happened to me, I’d freakin’ freak out.”

  Jessica’s sober features cleared, and she smiled. “As far as the speeches and everything else, the trip was a dream come true.”

  “I’m glad,” Veronica said warmly, then took another mouthful of food.

  Jessica followed suit, and for a while they munched in companionable silence. Jessica even felt herself begin to relax only to catch a glimpse of Brant, who was eating alone. Suddenly her food tasted like sawdust.

  “What’s wrong?” Veronica asked. “Don’t you like yours?”

  “Oh, it’s delicious,” Jessica said, forcing a lightness back into her tone.

  “So what’s the latest on Roy-boy? Has he pulled any of his shenanigans lately?”

  “No, and that worries me. I’m convinced he hasn’t given up on getting more money out of me. In fact, he won’t be satisfied until he gets his hands on all his trust.”

  “That’s not likely to happen, is it?”

  “No, not unless he has a better attorney than I do.”

  “Don’t worry, if he acts like a fool again, Brant’ll take care of him.”

  Jessica frowned. “Let us hope it won’t come to that.”

  “Moving on to Curtis.” Veronica grinned. “Has he still got a hard-on about the land?”

  Jessica grinned back. “Of course, though I haven’t heard from him since I’ve been back, either. I’m sure he’s working the councilmembers, rallying them around his flagpole.”

  “A pole that would like to get inside your panties.”

  “Veronica!”

  Her friend shrugged. “I’m serious. And hey, when the dust settles and Brant’s no longer shadowing you, you really ought to think about having a fling with Curtis. Like I told you before, it’ll do you good. And you could do worse.”

  “No, I couldn’t,” Jessica countered, sure her face was high red, only not for the reason Veronica thought. More hot sex was the last thing she needed right now.

  “Okay, I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Veronica said with a contagious smile.

  “No, you won’t, but that’s all right.”

  Veronica chuckled out loud. However, Jessica remained sober, dreading the moment when she would have to climb back in the car with Brant, especially after this morning’s episode. Instead of seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, she saw another freight train heading her way.

  “It’s time for you to go, right?” Veronica asked, as though she’d picked up on Jessica’s edginess.

  “Yes, though I have to go to the ladies’ room first. Would you mind telling Brant?”

  “Of course not, silly. I need to give him a hug, anyway, and find out how things stand between him and Elliot.”

  Now was the perfect opportunity to tell her about the upcoming outing, but Jessica couldn’t bring herself to divulge that, either. That admission would also bring on a lot of questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.

  “I’ll tell him you’ll
be along shortly,” Veronica said, after they took care of the check, stood, then hugged.

  “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Me too.”

  Ten minutes later, Jessica walked out of the bathroom. But instead of heading back into the restaurant proper, she caught a glimpse of the small shopping area connected to the café.

  Should she?

  Her heart pumped overtime. Why not? What could it hurt if she strolled through the unique shops for a few minutes? Nothing, she told herself.

  She had been gone only a few minutes and was poised in front of a bath shop, perusing all the pretties displayed in the window, when a strong hand clamped down on her shoulder. Fright ripped through her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  She swung around and stared into Brant’s fierce features.

  Thirty-two

  “Neato! This is really neat.”

  Jessica hid a smile, wondering how many times she’d heard that word since they left her town house and picked up Elliot. He had been excited then and was even more so now that they had arrived at the lake and she had pointed out the fancy boating rig that had been dear to Porter’s heart.

  Elliot’s eyes lit like firecrackers, and he began to fidget, itching to get out and get the day started.

  “Is that big one really yours?” he asked in awe, craning his neck while Brant parked the SUV.

  “It’s actually my husband’s,” Jessica responded, smiling openly at Elliot’s unabashed enthusiasm. “Or was,” she qualified in a soft voice.

  “So it’s yours now,” Elliot countered logically.

  “I guess it’s safe to say it meets with your approval, son,” Brant drawled, finally easing into the conversation now that the vehicle was stationary.

  “Oh, man, it’s cool. I can’t believe I’m going to get to spend the day on it.”

  As though his gaze was drawing her, Jessica’s and Brant’s eyes met, and they both smiled.

  Jessica finally looked away, her pulse skyrocketing. She couldn’t recall ever having seen Brant smile such a genuine smile, as if he was really enjoying himself. Maybe he’d decided to give this day his best, for both his and Elliot’s sake. She hoped so. If the two were ever going to have a chance to bond, it was now.

  “Come on, let’s get out,” the teenager demanded.

  “How about you and your dad taking care of readying the boat while I unload the car?”

  Brant raised quizzical eyebrows. “You okay with that?”

  “Absolutely, especially since I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Well, I do,” Elliot chimed in with adult self-confidence. “Come on, Dad, let’s show her how it’s done.”

  Jessica laughed, then did something totally out of character for her. She reached out and ruffled Elliot’s hair. “I like your style, kid.”

  Brant’s intense gaze both caressed her and thanked her, which sent added color rushing into her cheeks. “You sure you can handle the picnic basket?”

  “With ease,” she assured him, squinting through her dark lenses, glad of their protective shield. Already she had exposed too much of herself, and the day was just starting.

  “All right,” Brant said with a lingering gaze. “We’ll see you shortly.”

  After the vehicle was unloaded, Jessica made her way to the dock, close to the boat’s slip. Elliot grinned and waved to her. “We’re about ready to cast off.”

  “Just say the word and I’ll come aboard.”

  “We’re not quite ready for you yet,” Elliot said, not bothering to look at his dad.

  Brant’s laid-back but concealed smile took her breath. Good thing he didn’t turn that high-wattage beam on often, or she would be in even more danger than she already was.

  Suddenly it hit Jessica how insane she was for opening her heart to this kind of abuse. But then, after the incident at the restaurant, she’d had no idea this trip would actually come about. In fact, she’d been sure it wouldn’t.

  Brant had been absolutely livid with her for giving him the slip in the restaurant.

  His fury had in turn incited hers. “What does it look like I’m doing?” she’d said through clenched teeth, deliberately keeping her voice down, aware they were in a public place. “I’m window shopping.”

  “Dammit, Jessica, you know it’s not safe for you to be alone.” He rammed his hands into his pockets.

  To keep from shaking her, she suspected. “I wasn’t alone,” she pointed out logically, cooling her own anger, hoping to diffuse the volatile situation. “As you can see, people are milling around everywhere.”

  “And that’s my point,” he retorted, then took a shuddering breath. “Look, you scared the bloody hell out of me. I thought—” He broke off with a noise that was akin to a tormented growl.

  “I’m okay, Brant,” she said, swerving her gaze, suddenly feeling contrite, as if she had indeed done something awful. Perhaps she had, by deliberately escaping and strolling through the shops. But she had needed the time alone, away from his all-knowing eyes, his smothering presence.

  The fear of losing herself, her identity, had driven her to take such a bold step, and she had ignored the rational part of her brain that told her she was acting foolishly.

  Too, she’d known Brant would be furious if he found out. Had that been at the back of her mind? Had she wanted to rile him? If so, why?

  “You’re okay—through no fault of your own,” he was saying, his voice now sounding weary.

  Again Jessica felt awful, like a child who had been scolded and who deserved it. But she wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman who had choices, choices she was free to make. And if there were unfavorable consequences, then so be it.

  “Look, nothing happened, so let’s just drop it, okay?”

  “Only if you won’t pull such a stunt again.”

  “I’m not a child, Brant, and I refuse to let you treat me like one.”

  “Then by damn stop acting like one.”

  “Go to hell,” she snapped, then was appalled by her words and her loss of temper.

  “That’s where I’ve been ever since I came here.”

  Her eyes widened in horror, and an unbidden cry tore through her lips. She tried to skirt around him, but he grabbed her arm, his features contorted. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

  “Yes, it was,” she said, breathing heavily, trying to gather her scattered wits and realizing they were probably creating a scene, which didn’t bode well for the mayor of the city.

  “Truce?”

  She took another deep breath, then stepped back, though she kept her gaze averted. “Truce.”

  “Promise you won’t do anything like this again.”

  “Don’t push your luck,” she responded shortly, turning and heading to the car.

  An explosive silence remained between them the entire way back to the office. Just at they were about to get out, Brant said, “Is your invitation still good for the outing?”

  He didn’t give a rip about himself, she knew. It was Elliot. He wanted a day with his son, and only her cooperation could make that happen. While she had wished more than once that she’d kept her mouth shut, she couldn’t renege, not when his eyes had a pleading glint in them.

  “Of course, if Elliot wants to go.”

  “Of course,” he said, a smirk tightening his lips. Refusing to let him know his barb had stuck, she got out and went inside. Since then their relationship had taken another turn—for the worse.

  Now, however, with the sun bright in the sky and the water crystal clear, all seemed right with the world. Even she felt a sense of freedom at being out of the city, away from the daily drudgery of responsibilities, realizing that she needed this day as much as Brant and Elliot.

  At the moment all she cared about was feasting her eyes on Brant as he skillfully maneuvered the boat toward her, feeling a thrill dart through her as her gaze traveled up and down his body.

  He had on a white T-shirt m
inus the sleeves, sleeves that he’d obviously removed with a pair of scissors. The edges were jagged and raveled. His legs, muscular and tanned, with just the right amount of hair sprinkling them, were highly visible in a pair of cutoffs that had suffered the same fate as the shirt. His tennis shoes fared no better; holey and stained, they were tied with fraying laces.

  A perfect specimen of manhood, standing like a Greek god. The sight captured her breath.

  Jessica swallowed, fighting off a choking sensation. What was she going to do? she asked herself, alarm turning her stomach topsy turvy.

  Still, her gaze held steady, settling on his hands. Strong hands that had touched every inch of her flesh. Hands whose fingers had invaded her most private place.

  Wobbly-kneed, she forced herself to move toward the boat, secretly recoiling from taking that outstretched hand, yet finding herself doing just that. As she’d feared, a spark shot through her, though she did her best to camouflage any visible reaction.

  Brant showed no reaction, either, which didn’t surprise her. Even if he hadn’t had on sunglasses himself, he was a master at hiding his thoughts and emotions, something she should become more adept at.

  “What a super rig,” Elliot said, smiling broadly at her. “If I owned her, I’d take her out every weekend.”

  “You would, huh?” Brant asked, his smile indulgent. “Well, if you get your education, then maybe one day you’ll become the proud owner of one of these babies.”

  A slight frown crossed Elliot’s face. “That’s what Mom says.”

  “Your mom’s right.”

  Elliot switched his attention to Jessica. “What do you think, Mrs. Kincaid?”

  “Suppose you call me Jessica?” she said, giving him an indulgent smile.

  “Okay, Jessica,” Elliot said.

  “Don’t put her on the spot like that,” Brant suggested with ease. “You know what you should do. But let’s don’t discuss that today. Let’s just concentrate on catching some big bass or crappie.”

  “All right!” Elliot said, turning and digging into the cooler for a cold drink.

  “You okay?” Brant asked Jessica, removing his shades and exposing his warm gaze as it wandered over her.

 

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