What Janie Wants

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What Janie Wants Page 11

by Rhenna Morgan


  After another considering smile, he rolled to his back beside her and laced his hands behind his head. “What else you got?”

  Okay. So, no crazy Animal House type parties on the agenda for the near future. That was promising. And while Devin and the rest of his pals hadn’t been her cup of tea, they’d been pretty accepting of her. Somehow she didn’t see the people in her circles being quite so understanding. Did she really want people in her life who judged her on such a shallow basis?

  “Scares me when you pucker your mouth up like that.” He went back to playing footsie with her.

  “I have no idea how the people in my life are going to respond to the concept of me dating a younger man.” She rolled to her side. “Do you still call it dating? Is that what we’d be doing?”

  His lips lifted in a lazy, almost devious grin and his eyelids grew heavy. “We’d be in a relationship. A monogamous one. We’d get to know each other. Do what couples do.”

  “More than just sex?”

  He unwound one arm and ran his knuckles up and down her bicep. “How much of our time this week was sex?”

  “Nights mostly.”

  “Right. I spent my days with you too. Not just to get to the nights, but to get to you.” The steady up and down of his hand hesitated. “The first time I picked up a camera and took a shot, a whole new dimension opened up in my life. It was there all the time, I just didn’t know it. Once I felt it, I wanted more.” He touched her cheek. “Meeting you? Same thing.”

  Her stomach did a triple flip and at least half of her brain short-circuited.

  “Not gonna lie, though.” His knuckles grazed the side of her breast, a tiny gesture no one else would notice, but that sparked all kinds of attention from the nerve endings beneath his touch. “I’m equally fond of the time when there’s little to no clothing involved and I’m buried balls deep in your hot pussy.”

  And there went the rest of her brain, the bulk of her blood rushing to aid and abet the growing ache between her legs. “You’re naughty,” she whispered.

  He winked and put his hand back behind his head in a pleased-with-himself posture. “Just being honest.”

  Her stomach grumbled embarrassingly loud.

  Zade’s sharp laughter rang out behind it, echoing through the cove. “Apparently, I’m giving you a workout too. We just ate three hours ago.”

  “Yes, but you ate enough for three of us. I ate enough for half of me and I’m still burning calories from last night.”

  Still laughing, but far more delicately than before, he stood and shook out his towel. “Pack up your stuff.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I gotta feed my woman if she’s gonna keep up until my flight leaves.” He looped the towel around his neck and stepped into his flip-flops. “Besides, I wanna get those pics off my memory card and onto a flash drive before tonight. Arlo’s got a computer I can use in the office. We’ll stop, transfer the pictures, and grab a quick snack to bring back here.”

  She couldn’t move. Just spun the phrase round and round in her head. She was forty-years old, for crying out loud. Not sixteen.

  He took two steps toward the bungalow, stopped and backtracked. “Something wrong?”

  Not wrong. Not unless she considered the fluttering fanfare in her stomach to be a bad thing. She waved him toward the room. “No, I’m great.” Liar. “Grab your stuff and we’ll head up.”

  The buzz from his possessive statement was still zipping through her bloodstream ten minutes later. Thank God, Arlo had fitted out the lobby with ceiling fans. No way could she fight the heat and the growing prospect of her future with Zade at the same time.

  As they reached the front desk, he kissed her on the temple and unwound his fingers from hers. “Won’t take five minutes. You wanna hang up here with Arlo or come with me in the office?”

  Two taxis pulled into the small circular drive. Arlo dodged back and forth behind the registration desk with a healthy flush on his face, checking in a decent size party.

  “I think I’m gonna need a few glasses of wine before I’m ready to see my big boudoir debut.” She smoothed her hand across his chest and kissed his cheek. So normal. Like an ordinary couple. “I’ll stay up here and see if I can’t find a way to help your uncle. He looks a little flustered, and more just pulled up.”

  “He’s got a secret stash of those mini-sized cokes in the fridge. You want one?” he said over his shoulder as he ambled away.

  “Do you know how many calories are in those?”

  He grinned and winked before he disappeared into the office.

  Of course, he didn’t know how many calories were in them. He was twenty-six and had a metabolism to rival a dinosaur. Though if things kept up between them, her metabolism might pick up too.

  The two new sets of guests had their suitcases out in front of the taxis and were paying their drivers. Yet again, the bellboy was nonexistent.

  She couldn’t help Arlo much on the computer, but she could probably swing claim checks for the arriving guests’ bags and see if they wanted something to drink. She strode to the bell stand and rifled through the top drawer. Claim checks and pens. Voila.

  She filled in the blanks for the couples, lugged their bags off to one side, and did the loopty-loop thing with the stretch tag around the handles. “If you’d like to have a seat in the lobby, your host will be with you as soon as he’s finished checking in the other guests.”

  Zade’s voice cut across the room from behind her. “I’m almost done. I found some Gatorade, too. You want one of those?”

  “No thanks, sweetie. You finish up.” She refocused on the two couples and walked them to the cozy rattan seating arrangement with its teal and mango cushions. “Have you all been to Gypsy Cove before?”

  “No, it’s our first time,” one of the women said. She was about Janie’s age, maybe five years older, but had a hairstyle that made the age difference seem closer to ten or fifteen years apart. “I hear it’s a little different than the other resorts.”

  A chuckle slipped out before she could check it. “Oh, it’s different for sure. But it’s lovely and the people who run it are wonderful.”

  The woman laid a hand over her heart and lowered her voice. “I have to tell you. Your son is very attractive. You must be proud.”

  “My son?”

  The lady straightened from her conspiratorial posture and beamed a brilliant smile, eyes locked over Janie’s shoulder.

  Footsteps shuffled behind her.

  Zade.

  He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her around to face him. “Babe, wait ’til you see those pictures. They’re amazing.” He kissed her. A slow, perfect mesh of their lips, warm and intimate. Wiping away the world in one lingering touch. He eased away, his eyes heated, lifted his head and locked gazes with the people behind her. “Something wrong?”

  The world unlocked from its standstill and reality sideswiped her with a replay of the woman’s comment. Janie held her breath and turned.

  Slack jawed. Every one of them. The woman who’d called Zade Janie’s son held her hand at her throat. Her mouth hung open and she dipped her chin with a contemptible slant. “Well. I see I misunderstood. Seems things here at Gypsy Cove do run to the unexpected.”

  The veiled barb struck between each rib as swiftly as a dozen daggers, and her conscience beat against its temporary holding cell. This was what it would be like. Everywhere.

  Janie lifted her chin and smiled, though her cheeks shook with the effort. “An innocent mistake. Don’t think a thing about it. Why don’t you all have a seat and make yourselves comfortable?”

  Slow steady breaths. One in. One out. Her beach bag sat next to the bell stand, the yellow and white colors mocking the cloying panic in her stomach. Her room. If she could grab a minute alone she could settle her thoughts. Disassociate.

  “Janie.” Zade gripped her bicep.

  She pulled away and hurried to her bag. Sunscreen, two novels, sunglasses.
r />   Key.

  “Janie, take it easy. They made a bad assumption.”

  “Everyone is going to make that assumption.” Well, maybe not everyone. Anyone younger than her would probably be fine, which knocked pretty much anyone she knew out of the equation. She hustled through the lobby, painting a wide swath around the four waiting to check in.

  Zade’s firm strides sounded right behind hers. “Babe, we need to talk about this. You don’t have to panic. It’s okay.”

  “Did you see her face?” Her legs couldn’t move any faster, not without breaking into a jog. “My God, she glared at me like I was some depraved, incestuous freak.”

  Almost there. Four more doors, and she could let it out. Put her head between her knees and let the tears go.

  “It’s her limitation. Not yours.” He glanced back toward the guests waiting in the hallway and practically growled. “Don’t take that on. Don’t let it rob you of something good.”

  The key fob jangled and slipped from her shaking hand.

  Zade snatched it from the floor and held it out of reach. “Don’t do this. Don’t run from me. Don’t run from us.”

  God, he was beautiful. Inside and out. A person who challenged others to be more just by being around him.

  She lifted her chin toward the lobby at the far end of the hall. “What just happened? That’s reality. Wrong, right, or indifferent, that’s what we’re going to face. Or, more accurately, what I’m going to face. I’m the one they’re going to judge. She wasn’t looking at you. She was looking at me. Thinking what an indecent cradle robber I am. It hurt.

  “Do I want to walk away from us? No.” A pained laugh ripped past her throat. “I love being with you. You make me feel alive in a way I didn’t even realize was possible, but I’m going to be the one who faces that reaction, and I’ve got to figure out if I’m brave enough to face it.”

  She held out her hand for the key.

  His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths and his lips pressed tight.

  “Give it to me, Zade. This has to be a two way street and you’ve got to let me buy in on my own.”

  He opened his palm and stared at the key, the tension in his frame so rigid she half expected him to fling it down the hallway. “You’re right. Bullying you into a relationship wouldn’t bode well for either of us.” He dug into his pocket, pulled something out, and laid it in his palm alongside the key.

  A thumb drive. Her pictures.

  “I can’t tell you how to feel and I can’t tell you how to act, but you can tell yourself.” He held them both out to her. “See for yourself. Take a good, hard look at the woman in those pictures. See if you’re willing to lose that.”

  She scooped them from his outstretched palm, her fingers frigid against his comforting heat.

  “My taxi’s coming at seven in the morning,” he said. “If you’re there to see me off, we’ll figure out what to do next and we’ll do it together. If you’re not…” He shrugged and rubbed the heel of his hand over his sternum. “I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Zade, I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t.” He mashed his lips together and shoved his hands in his pockets. His beautiful blue eyes sparked with icy disappointment. “You said what you needed to say, so don’t apologize.” He lifted his chin toward the door and walked away, his head held high. “I’ll be in the lobby well before seven. Figure out what’s right for you.”

  Over and over, Janie tapped the plastic thumb drive on the desk in her room, slid her fingers down its length, spun it over and started again.

  A bottle of opened but not yet touched merlot sat on the corner of the desk, a standard issue glass tumbler beside it, ready for action. Her laptop was open, but the screen was dark, sleep mode having kicked in way before her courage. The alarm clock on the nightstand reflected in the mirror to one side of her, the only splash of color in the otherwise dark room.

  12:14 AM

  Big, bold red letters that practically screamed what an idiot she was. Eight hours lost that could have been spent with Zade. Usually by this time of night she was curled up next to him and in a sexual coma.

  The revulsion on the woman’s face flashed front and center in Janie’s memory. Pinched eyes. Accusing and judgmental.

  “It’s her limitation. Not yours. Don’t take that on. Don’t make it rob you of something good.”

  Twenty-six years old, and yet in many ways, Zade was so much wiser. Confident and centered in who he was.

  She pulled her iPhone closer and pressed the button at the bottom. The screen blinded her with a candid picture of McKenna and Thomas at last year’s state fair. Who really mattered in this equation? Her and Zade, for sure. Her kids. Her family, to a certain degree. Not for approval, but for support. The same for his family.

  With slow, thoughtful strokes, she thumbed through her contacts and pulled up McKenna’s number. All she wanted for her kids was for them to be happy. To live full, healthy lives, and experience a lifetime of love and passion, even if it came in the form of someone or something unconventional. Why couldn’t she allow that for herself?

  She scoffed and propped her head on her hands. Because she was afraid. Terrified, actually. Her life had been so safe. Steady and predictable.

  And blank. A huge canvas with nothing of her own on it. Not one speck of color. Worse, she hadn’t even realized the absence until she’d met Zade. Yes, she’d raised two wonderful children, but those were their lives. Their colors. If her world was already blank, she didn’t exactly have a lot to lose.

  Except Zade. The man who’d encouraged her. Who offered up different palettes for consideration. Who saw her as a woman. Who fought for her even when she wanted to run.

  She opened her hand. The thumb drive lay warm in her palm, daring her to see someone new. To throw a splash of color on the canvas.

  “See for yourself. Take a good, hard look at the woman in those pictures. See if you’re willing to lose that.”

  She touched the track pad and her login popped up.

  Login: JanieMcAllister

  Password: McKennaThomas

  She huffed out an ironic laugh as she punched the enter key. Even her login and password information was bland. She should change it to FixitMomma or ProblemWringer101.

  Or SexyBabe4Zade.

  She plugged the thumb drive in the USB and poured herself a ridiculously large glass of wine. The trick was not to think too much about it. Just pull the pictures up and assess. No big deal. Easy peasy.

  There it was. A folder entitled Janie McAlister with lots of files beneath it that ended in .jpg.

  The wine’s berry tang burst against her tongue and her heart punched a few extra kicks of encouragement.

  Click.

  A picture of her facing away from the camera filled the screen. It wasn’t done in black and white, but the coloring gave it a similar look and feel. She cocked her head to one side, held captive by the simple, yet elegant image. From this view, her hips looked pretty nice. Not at all the way she’d felt about them when trying on bathing suits for the trip.

  She took another sip of her wine and clicked the next one. Not bad. Not bad at all.

  Click. Study. Sip.

  Click. Study. Sip.

  Every picture drove her pulse higher. Hotter than the one before it. She had colors in these pictures. She was bold. Beautiful. Even sexy. Not bland at all.

  Click.

  Her nearly empty glass thunked to the desk and her breath hitched. All of a sudden the lingering wine on her tongue seemed too thick, clinging to the top of her mouth. This was the moment. He’d told her he didn’t want it to end and everything inside her had cried out, “Yes.”

  It was right there. A message painted as bold as a three story neon sign. Simple and yet staggeringly profound. Was she willing to let something that moved her this much go simply based on the opinions of strangers?

  No.

  She grinned and imagined Zade beside her, adding an enthusiastic, “Hell, no.” t
o the mix. It said something, her thinking of him in this moment. Feeling him here even when he was in a completely different building. If she was smart, she’d rectify that situation and make it so they were in the same bed.

  Shutting the laptop, she gulped down what was left of her wine and poured herself another celebratory glass. She could do this. She could not only do it, she could own it. Set a good example for her kids. For her daughter.

  Shoot. She needed to call McKenna and Thomas and give them a heads up. At least that way they’d have a day to assimilate the news and gather their thoughts. She could sit down with them when she got home and let them drill her with questions.

  She plunked back down, nearly missing the chair altogether and only landing one half of her butt cheek on the seat. Wine always went to her head, but this round had taken the loopy express.

  Oh, yeah. She hadn’t eaten. That made sense.

  Not a problem. She’d call McKenna first and jot over to the dining hall for a snack.

  Glass in hand, she dialed up her youngest and relocated to the bed. She should have napped with Zade today and given her mind a rest. If she had, she’d have been able to process the run-in with the judgmental lady in the lobby with a little more class and a lot less drama.

  God, she hoped Zade wasn’t too angry. She sipped her wine and waited for McKenna to pick up. Surely he’d understand. She’d have to be sure and let him know she wasn’t going to waffle on him. That she’d decided to make a go of this thing between them and only toss in the towel when they both agreed it wasn’t working. Not when a complete stranger said it was wrong.

  “Mom!”

  Ah, McKenna. So full of life and happy. Ready to tackle the world. “Hey, sweetie. I know it’s late. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

  “Nope. Just got home from a movie with Jessica. How’s Mexico? You ready to come home?”

  Hardly. “Actually, I’m having a lovely time.” Janie took another drink of liquid courage. “In fact, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

 

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