That Thing Called Love

by Susan Andersen

  Thoroughly. Not until her tongue came up to engage his as it explored her mouth, not until she quit holding herself stiffly aloof and sagged against him, not until he felt the barbarian within rush the bars of his cage, howling to get out, did he lift his lips from hers and step back.

  “Now we’re done,” he said. Then aroused and angry and slightly sick to his stomach over his behavior, he turned and sauntered out of her house.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “I’M SORRY ABOUT LAST NIGHT.”

  Jenny’s head whipped up at the sound of the low, masculine voice just outside her door. She hadn’t heard anyone come up onto the unlit covered porch, and she gaped at Jake, because of course that’s who it was. He was a shadow in the dusk that crowded the other side of the screen door, but she’d know that voice anywhere.

  She refused to think too deeply about why that was.

  A little summerlike weather had finally arrived in Razor Bay this morning. The skies had been blue until the sun went down and were a deep, rich navy even now. The mountains were out in all their glory, the clouds that obliterated them for most of the past weeks blown away. The temperature had even climbed into the low seventies, although it had dropped significantly once the sun set. Loving the fresh air and the scent of the potted flowers that the inn’s gardeners had set on her porch and planted in the border at the base of the cottage, she’d put on a sweater and left the door wide open to invite in fresh air and clear out the winter stuffies.

  Who would have thought that might be a mistake?

  Clearly it had been, however. For Jake was no longer as shadowy as he’d been at first sight and, one hand gripping the overhead door casing, his cheek against rounded biceps, he looked at her through the screen.

  And the instant he saw that he had her attention he said, “You were right. I was an ass.”

  “You certainly are,” she agreed coolly, deliberately using the present tense. “You’re the only one who apparently harbors any doubt about it.” But, oh, God, that kiss—no attitude in the world could eradicate that from her head. Nothing could make her forget how it had edged into something uncivilized just before he’d pulled back. A...dominance that had made her feel as if she were flirting with the razor edge of danger.

  And as much as she hated to admit it, as much as it was contrary to her customary caution, she’d loved it. She who preferred to play it safe. Who had held on to the security of the known ever since that period in her life when everything had been one great big unknown.

  Not that she had any intention of acting on the temptation that had blossomed full blown last night. She gave her head an impatient shake. No, she was going to push away the enticement of taking a walk on the wild side and continue to play it safe. To do otherwise was an invitation to disaster.

  Just look at how long it had taken her to settle down after he’d left last night. She couldn’t believe how upset she had been—all anger, arousal and frustration. She’d hardly known what to do with herself and would have been perfectly happy never to see him again.

  At the same time, she’d longed for him to come back long enough for her to slap him silly.

  And yet...

  Jake had clearly been hurting and it had been hard to witness.

  But it didn’t excuse him. Not when he’d been arrogant and rude and pretty damn quick to dish out a little pain to her, as well.

  “Can I come in?”

  Hell, no. She knew a bad idea, a sucker bet, when she heard one. And she was nobody’s sucker. In fact, she contemplated rising from the couch where she was glued to her seat to slam the door in his face. She’d send him on his way so fast he’d be nothing but the scent of burned rubber.

  As if she were controlled by the Big Daddy of puppet masters, however, she hitched one shoulder. Or maybe it was the King of Ventriloquists, because when she opened her mouth to tell Jake no in no uncertain terms, her voice instead said, “Yeah, whatever.”

  Are you kidding me? Tossing aside the report she’d been poring over, she shot to her feet.

  But she was too late to prevent him from entering her home. The door squeaked when he opened it, then slapped closed behind him with the meaty spank of wood on wood.

  I rescind my offer! she thought frantically, then felt like an idiot. Because, really, did that work anywhere outside bad vampire movies?

  Apparently not. Or theoretically not, anyhow. One would have to actually say it to test its effectiveness.

  “Here,” he said, thrusting out his hand. “These are for you.”

  Oh, God. He was a mess, she saw as she got her first good look at him in the light. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw shadowed with dark stubble, and his hair suffered from a killer case of bed head, flat in some places and sticking up in others, as if he hadn’t bothered to so much as pull a comb through it.

  And he had flowers. A huge fistful of roses and tulips and gerbera daisies that must have been hidden behind the lower solid panel of the screen door.

  She reached out to relieve him of them. She wanted to be all cool and you’re-deluded-if-you-think-this-is-all-it-takes-to-get-back-in-my-good-graces. Longed to toss the lush bouquet on the coffee table to sit neglected until it moldered into dust.

  Instead she buried her nose in it to take a deep sniff. Why could she never do the smart thing around this guy? She should not, not, not sorta love the damn flowers!

  Smart would be to say, “They’re lovely, thank you very much,” then add a firm “Now go away.” But when he looked at her with those green eyes shadowed with misery, she simply couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  She blew out a sigh. Because, so much for being nobody’s sucker. “I’ll find a vase.”

  He trailed her into the kitchen and watched her dig one out of the cupboard, fill it with water, empty a little packet of preservatives into it and snip and arrange the flowers.

  “Where’s Austin?” he asked, glancing around him as if expecting the boy to suddenly materialize.

  She looked at him over the flowers. “He’s at an overnighter for Oliver Kidd’s birthday party.”

  It was silent for a few moments as she tweaked the arrangement. Then he suddenly said in a low voice, “I really am sorry about last night. I can be an ass sometimes—but I’m not usually that big an ass.”

  She glanced up at him. “Yeah? So how did I get so lucky?”

  For a moment he leaned against the counter, rubbing a thumb between his brows and merely looking at her, and she thought his response would be to ignore the question. Then he dropped his hand to his side and looked her in the eye.

  “For the first time since I walked out of Austin’s life, it hit home just how much I threw away.” Blowing out a weary breath, he walked over to her little drop-leaf table and collapsed onto one of the chairs.

  She set the vase of flowers aside and joined him, taking the seat across the table. “You want some coffee?”

  “No. Thanks. I didn’t sleep for shit last night. I’d rather not screw up any chance of getting some tonight. Tossing and turning all night sucks.” He stared down at his hands, fingers splayed against the warm-golden oak of her kitchen table.

  Then he raised his gaze to meet hers. “The last time I saw him, back when he was a baby, he was this cranky, crying, leaky little stranger that I had no idea how to take care of.”

  “Austin?” she asked, then made a face and an erasing gesture. Because who else would he be talking about?

  But Jake didn’t seem to notice. “I was supposed to fall in love with him,” he said in a low voice. “That’s what everyone told me—that the minute they put your kid in your arms, you’ll fall in love.” He looked at her with haunted eyes. “So why didn’t I? Why did I look at him, and the only thing I could think was that he looks sorta simian? And where the hell did he get those lungs? He exercised th
e hell out of those every time I came near. Kathy could calm him down. Emmett could, too. But when I had to hold him, he always screamed. Jesus.”

  He ground the heel of his hand into his forehead before pulling it back and staring at it as if he’d never seen a hand before. He lowered it to the table, his fingertips pressing so hard against the surface it drove all the color from his nails. “He screamed and screamed, and he was always wet and hot and stickier than a gummi bear. And all I felt was stark terror. I just wanted to get as far away from the responsibility of him as I could.” Self-loathing made itself at home in his voice.

  “I knew damn well I was unnatural,” he said flatly. “No real father feels that way. So when Emmett said I should take that scholarship after all, that he and Kathy would take care of Austin—” He shook his head. “Man. I jumped all over it.”

  She stared at the palpable anguish in his face and swallowed a sigh. Dammit. Half of her appreciated—no, flat-out admired—his raw honesty. She loved learning that he hadn’t taken his neglect of Austin lightly. It boded well for his future relationship with his son, and she genuinely wished a healthy relationship with this man for the boy she loved.

  But the Jenny who was desperately scrambling to hold herself aloof in order to keep from feeling more for Jake than was wise—

  Well.

  She almost wished he would demonstrate some of the careless, selfish and arrogant rat-bastard father qualities she had thought defined him before they’d actually met.

  She could never in this lifetime fall in love with that man.

  Not that she was falling in love now!

  But her heart hurt to see his self-flagellation. It was right under her nose, however—this naked grief that was so much deeper than anything she’d glimpsed last night—and she felt...something.

  Something that bristled with a lot more affection than simple lust.

  To refute it, she demanded in a level voice, “But you never came back.”

  “No. I never did.” He shook his head, and the sudden bark of laughter that exploded from his throat was bitter as wormwood. “I told myself—no, hell, promised myself—that I would. As soon as I accomplished this or achieved that. I made dates so that I’d have to go back.”

  He looked her in the eye. “But as you know, I broke every one.

  “Fuck.” He pushed his chair back from the table with a force that made the legs screech against the fake terrazzo tiles of her kitchen floor. Thrusting a hand through his hair, he stared down at her. “So to answer your question—if you even remember what that was—I heard Austin call me Dad last night, I heard you call him Austin Jacob, when I didn’t even know that was his middle name, and everything I managed to screw up blew up in my face. But instead of owning up to it like a man, I turned it around on you. And I’m sorry.”

  He about-faced and strode for the back door.

  Let him go, let him go, let him go, she urged herself. She watched him twist the knob and fling open the door to the mudroom.

  Watched him take the couple of long-legged strides that brought him to the exterior door.

  Hugged herself as he twisted that doorknob, as well. Let him. Go.

  Only to discover she couldn’t.

  “What I said last night still stands,” she said to his back and watched him freeze with the knob gripped in one fist. “Do I wish you had handled your reaction differently—that you hadn’t been such a jerk? Absolutely. But I still believe that back then you were an overwhelmed eighteen-year-old.”

  “That excuse is almost as shopworn as the always popular you’re-doing-the-best-thing-for-Austin one I’ve spent the past thirteen years selling myself on.”

  “Maybe so. Yet they’re both still true. Did you know that babies react to stress in other people?”

  He looked at her over his shoulder. “What?”

  “Sounds to me like Austin felt your tension and reacted by screaming his head off. Didn’t Kathy or Emmett ever assure you of that?”

  He slowly turned. “No.”

  “I’m surprised. They were parents—they must have known.” A disloyal thought crept into her head that maybe they had known but liked the idea of getting Austin all to themselves for a while. She shoved it aside, however, for the mere suspicion made her feel like a traitor to two people who had been nothing but wonderful to her. And even if they had unconsciously sabotaged Jake, she doubted that their objective would have been for him to disappear entirely from his son’s life. “Or maybe they didn’t—we’ll never know. Frankly, Jake, it’s time to put the past behind you. What you do with the opportunity you have right now is what counts.”

  He came over to where she stood. Bent and pressed a soft kiss on her lips and straightened. “Thank you. You really are one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

  She made a rude noise. “No, I’m not.”

  “Yeah, you really are.” He smiled at her.

  It was ridiculous to be insulted; he clearly meant it as a compliment. But she was so tired of the Goody Two-shoes label that had been slapped on her fairly early in her residence here. In that respect, at least, she understood Jake’s beef with Razor Bay. Small towns had a way of pigeonholing people sometimes.

  Not that she hadn’t contributed to carving out a cubby for them to stick her in. She’d always felt this town had saved her when she’d needed it most, and she’d done her best to pay it back wherever she could.

  But right this moment...?

  Well, maybe she was tired of playing it safe all the time.

  Stepping up to him, she slapped her hands to his chest. He stilled beneath her touch as she slid them up over his shoulders, then brought them in to curl around the back of his neck. “Get this through your head,” she said with soft-voiced firmness. “I am no damn Pollyanna.”

  And rising onto her toes, she slid her fingers up to grasp the back of his head, yanked it down to hers and kissed him.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JENNY’S SUDDEN MOVE SQUISHED their noses together as she locked that sweet mouth of hers on his upper lip. It wasn’t particularly salacious, as kisses went, but Jake’s reaction was swift and furious all the same. No one had to tell him twice to get with the program.

  Hell, he took over the program. Fingers plunging into her silky hair, his thumbs framing her face, he tilted her head so their noses no longer pressed together, which broke her gentle suction from his lip.

  Pretty mouth still pursed and her slender eyebrows pulling together above her slowly opening eyes, she made a disgruntled noise deep in her throat and went after her target once again.

  So...okay. Maybe he wasn’t as in charge as he thought.

  But she did retain the slight tilt he’d instigated, and inhaling through his newly liberated nostrils, Jake decided she could do whatever her little heart desired. He didn’t care as long as she remained right where she was, plastered the length of his body, heartbeat to heartbeat, mouth to mouth. Hell, he was adaptable—he raked her lower lip with his teeth, yarded it into his mouth to lightly suck and just enjoyed the subtle cherry flavor that was uniquely Jenny’s.

  He was a take-charge kind of guy by nature, however, and when she pulled back and studied him through arousal-drowsy eyes as she slicked her tongue across the lip he’d so pleasurably toyed with, he wrapped his hands around her hips and hiked her up, grunting his approval when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  He walked her the few steps to the kitchen table, shoved the napkin holder and salt-and-pepper shakers out of the way and set her atop the table. Sliding his hands out from under her, he flattened his palms against the tabletop on either side of her, caging her in. Stiff-armed, he leaned in, satisfaction spearing him as he laid her back across the table like his own personal banquet. The napkin holder clattered to the floor, napkins fanning across the faux tiles.

&n
bsp; “God,” he whispered. And rocked his mouth over hers. This time their lips were parted and lined up the way they were designed to be, and he invaded her mouth with a lithe, muscular pump of his tongue.

  They both froze for an instant—then, like alcohol poured into pure hydrogen peroxide, spontaneously combusted.

  Mouth avid, Jake kissed her as if he could somehow consume her whole, moving his slightly chapped lips against hers, more fiercely and ardently with every passing second. Jenny was right there with him, her delicate hands fisted in his hair with a hold that wasn’t delicate at all.

  One instant he was propped above her, and the next he found himself spreading her thighs with his own and flattening her beneath the urgent press of his weight against the wooden tabletop. It wasn’t until he realized he was actively grinding the back of her head into its surface with the force of his kiss that he pushed back onto his hands.

  With a soft sound of protest, Jenny maintained her grip on his head to keep him in place and arched to keep her breasts in contact with his chest. It killed him to pull their bodies apart, but he needed some distance between them. Or not only was this bound to end up very uncomfortable for her, he had his doubts the table would bear up under the action.

  But damn. Breath sawing in and out of his lungs, he stared down at her.

  Her lips were swollen and red from the force of his kisses and, eyeing them hungrily, he licked his own. He wanted back at them in the worst way, and his head started to automatically lower.

  Then he gave it a shake and pushed off her and onto his feet. “Jesus,” he panted. “There’s gotta be a better place for this than here.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Stretching her arms overhead, she undulated against the tabletop and nearly brought him to his knees. The sexual haze slowly cleared from her dark eyes, however, and she blinked. “No, you’re right.” Her head shake unconsciously mimicked his, and she held out a hand. “Help me up.”