Harsh laughter exploded. “Christ! When you go looking for trouble, you find it on all fronts. What the hell were you thinking, sugar?”
“I was thinking I needed a baker and Elizabeth is one.” Jem stopped sanding and shrugged, looking at him. “According to Avery, his mom’s a wiz with sweets. She’s only going to work three to four hours a day, when Walt is at the office. It’s a chance for her to spend time with her son, which she desperately wants to do.”
“He’ll make trouble for you. Don’t think he won’t. Can you get out of it?”
Jem frowned as she resumed running the coarse paper back and forth against the grain in the wood. “He can try. I’m not afraid of Walt. Remember, I worked for Margo Tremont.” Jem released a short laugh. “I hope he’ll come around when he sees how much it means to his wife. Her schedule isn’t going to interfere with his needs, and I’ll be flexible if she has to have time off to do something for him. You should have seen Avery’s face when I told him she was going to work with us.” Jem glanced at Jack, daring him to challenge her decision again. “Avery and Elizabeth need to heal. I didn’t get the chance with my parents. I want…I need to help this family mend their fences.”
“You’ll tell me if Walt starts causing trouble.” It was more of a demand than a question.
“I can handle it. But, yeah, I’ll tell you.”
“You’re doing that wrong,” Jack commented.
Jem glanced up at him confused.
He gestured to her sanding job. “You’re supposed to sand with the grain, not against it. What are you trying to accomplish?”
“Oh. I got a splinter the other day when I was cleaning it. I thought I’d sand the rough spots, then oil and seal it.”
“I have a power sander. I’ll do it for you.”
“I wanted to do it myself.”
“Then you should do it right.” Jack came around the island and stood next to her. He put his hand on top of hers and moved it. Then he lifted and pulled their joined hands to the original starting point and repeated the motion. “Like this.”
Glancing up at him, she realized his attention wasn’t on the countertop, but on her neck. He leaned over her shoulder and kissed the skin under her ear, making her shudder as his hand held and moved hers. Shifting, he crowded against her, behind her and ran his left hand down her shoulder to her hand where it rested on the countertop, trapping her back against his front. His lips heated her neck, lingering, nibbling. When he touched the tip of his tongue to her racing pulse, her breath hitched.
“When you’re sanding wood, it’s best to move slowly. Back and forth, in a regular rhythm, a slow motion forward, drawing back just as slowly, then repeat. Eventually, repeating this motion achieves a magnificent finish.” He breathed raggedly in her ear and dipped his tongue in the opening.
“You’re making that up,” Jem panted. The effect of his evocative words, his magic tongue and the stiff erection he pressed against her bottom made it difficult for her to speak.
He grasped her around the middle and pulled her shirt from the waistband of her jeans. “No, I’m not. I swear. There is a proper motion for sanding.”
“Is that what fashionable contractors are calling it these days, Jack? Getting their wood sanded?”
He pulsed his heavy arousal against her, letting her know how much wood he actually wanted sanded. His low, sexy laughter spiked through her. She wouldn’t have bet it possible to get any hotter than she already was. She’d have been wrong.
He trailed one hand up under the hem of her shirt, seeking her breast. He squeezed, then brushed his thumb over her hard nipple. Jem sighed and braced her hands on the butcher-block island as Jack pulled her closer against his broad chest, snugging her hips more tightly to his.
He lowered one hand to the snap at her waist, popped it open and lowered her zipper. Pushing his hand through the opening and under the lacy edge of her panties, he cupped her, his fingers teasing against her moist heat. He squeezed, the action awakening a corresponding tug on her womb, her breasts tingling when he mimicked the motion with his other hand. Jack trailed his lips slowly along her throat and her head rolled back toward his chest.
She rested her hands on his forearms. “Oh, my God. That is too good for words. You better hurry. Please hurry.”
“Right here, sugar?” Jack questioned, moving his hand inside her panties, pushing his fingers deep inside her.
She shuddered, pushing her hips backward, nudging his erection with her rear, and smiled at his gasp. “Right now,” she demanded breathlessly.
Jack pushed jeans and panties down her hips in one smooth motion. He pulled a foil packet out of his wallet and gave it to her. The wallet made a solid thump as he dropped it to the floor. He unsnapped his jeans and pushed them down slightly before taking the condom she’d unwrapped and rolling it on. Tangling one hand in her hair, he eased her forward, bending her over the top of the island. She moved one arm to brace her weight and the other to cup his buttock. He ran his hands over her bare bottom before reaching around front to caress her as he nudged the hot weight of his cock into her. The moan he let out as he pushed his way in nearly undid her. His jaw popped as he clenched his teeth while moving slowly, retreating to the point of pulling out, then surging in again.
Jem’s body hummed in response. Sexy purring noises escaped from her throat as Jack stroked back and forth, caressing her into a frenzy of need. God, she couldn’t remember being as hot, as ready. Mercifully, Jack didn’t hold back, increasing the pace, thrusting harder and faster into her. Her mind went numb as electricity coursed through her. She was so close and he worked his hand on her, urging her to finish. Her muscles clenched and he groaned. She gasped out his name as they went over the edge together.
Jem’s heart thundered as Jack ran his hand over her bare hip, lightly squeezing her tender flesh before he leaned over her back to nuzzle the nape of her neck. Her breath was ragged as he pulled out of her and sank to his knees behind her. She shivered as he kissed her back and buttocks on his way to the floor. He tugged gently and pulled her with him. They lay pooled together behind the island, Jem draped across his hard chest, snuggled into the nook created as he wrapped one arm around her and held her in place. Jem idly drew circles on the muscles flexing beneath his soft shirt and relaxed on his chest as he stroked her from shoulder to hip and back.
Once she caught her breath, Jem started laughing. “Oh, God! We must make a lovely sight. Both of us lying here with our jeans around our ankles and silly grins on our faces.”
“I like this look on you. I also like the look of you without pants.” Even, white teeth flashed on Jack’s face as he raised his head to look at her aforementioned nearly pantless form, giving her butt a squeeze for emphasis.
“Thank goodness we’re on the second floor. Imagine what could have happened if I was working downstairs. You know, there are things to sand there, too.”
Jack waggled his eyebrows at her intentional metaphor. “Told you I had a power sander.”
She pushed away from his chest, laughing, and reached to pull her jeans up. Jack wrapped his strong arms around her back and pulled her down on top of his body, tangling their legs together in spite of the restraint the clothes made around their ankles. He traced the outline of her lips with his, molding them.
Jem opened her mouth, and Jack deepened the kiss as she reached for his wallet to grab another condom. He shifted, rolling her underneath him, then pushed his tongue deeply into her mouth as he attempted to toe off his shoes to rid himself of his jeans.
A loud knock on the front door froze them. Clooney barked frantically at the unwelcome intrusion.
“Shit. I ordered pizza.” Jem pushed against Jack’s shoulders, alarmed.
“It’s okay. I got it.” Jack rolled off her body. He pulled his jeans up as he rose off the floor, carefully zipping and snapping them. He left his t-shirt out, an attempt hide his still-evident arousal. Jem laughed aloud as she watched him walk to the front door with one
shoe off, and one still on.
Boneless and breathless, Jem lay still and let her thoughts drift while Jack carried on a conversation with the pizza delivery guy. Were they really discussing last night’s hockey game? She lifted her head as Clooney’s toenails clicked on the hardwood floor in the kitchen. The dog pushed his muzzle into her face, giving her a lick on the cheek. She laughed at the look on his face, which she would have called a smile if the dog were human. Oh jeez, here she was, lying in the middle of the kitchen, covered only by her thin t-shirt, her pants around her ankles, laughing at her lover’s dog. She giggled and drew her knees up to reach for her jeans.
“Stop.”
Jem quit pulling on her jeans and flushed slightly at Jack’s simple command. From the doorway, his heated gaze roved over her body and her heart jumped at the hungry expression on his face. There was no other way to describe it. This man delighted and excited her. She saw his desire for her, in spite of their hard, fast lovemaking on the butcher-block island, just moments ago.
She doubted she’d ever get enough of him.
From her prone position on the floor, she watched him walk to the oven, open the door and store the pizza box on the wire rack there.
Closing it, he dropped to his knees next to Jem and pulled off her shoes, pausing to push Clooney away as the dog crept closer to investigate. “No, Clooney. Go lay down.” Jack pointed through the door to the pet bed Jem had put in the living room. Clooney woofed, then obediently trotted out of the room. “How do you feel about cold pizza?” he asked, a smile playing on his sensuous lips.
“I especially like it after really hot sex.” Jem grinned at him.
“Really hot? Damn, I’m good.”
“Yes, you are. We are. I’d guess the recently delivered hot pizza is going to take at least an hour to get cold enough to make us happy. Any thoughts about what we can do to pass the time?” She put her hand on his knee and moved it suggestively toward his hip as he groaned.
“Maybe a little more sanding,” he offered, smiling sexily as he used her euphemism.
Tugging her jeans off, he kissed his way up her legs, starting with the instep of her foot, his fingers kneading her calf. He paused long enough to lick the tender skin behind her knee. Draping her leg over his shoulder, he continued his upward journey, making Jem gasp and sigh as he progressed. Her hands tangled in his thick, dark hair, urging him higher still.
Before he reached the top of her thighs, he slipped her leg off his shoulder and jumped up. He picked her up in strong arms and strode to the bedroom where he made short work of stripping off their remaining clothes.
Tumbling with her to the bed, he kept her busy enough to let their pizza get cold.
Chapter 20
For the past three days, Jack had banished Jem from the café. Even though she’d decided death by impatience was a distinct possibility, she’d humored him. On the third day, he’d made her wait until the workers had cleared out before turning her loose in the newly remodeled space.
Like a kid at Christmas, Jem raced giddily from one shiny appliance to another, stopping to admire the trio of large sinks and run her fingers lovingly over the new griddle. She opened oven doors and stood in front of the refrigerator unit for the longest time, pleased at the huge amount of cold storage space available.
“Oh, God. It’s amazing. It’s so beautiful, way beyond what I even dreamed.” Jem threw her arms around Jack’s neck and squeezed him close, making him laugh before she continued her exploration. She envisioned working happily side by side with Avery and Elizabeth Childers, creating something good—something wonderful—for their customers.
“You know, you helped more than most of my customers,” Jack said, waving his hand around the space. “I didn’t mind the suggestions. Your ideas added to the overall plan. And I know your food is as great as your ideas.”
Jem shot a grin his direction as she opened the dishwasher and purred over it. “Yeah, well, thanks for listening. Together we’ve created my dream.”
Jack managed a couple of surprises for her as they toured the space. The first one was the counter he’d already built in the small nook behind the swinging door separating the café from the kitchen. Although she’d vetoed soup wells as too expensive, she’d asked Jack to build a cabinet to hold an electrical unit in the future.
Sitting on top of the counter were two insulated hot-food containers with a big red bow tied around them.
“What’s this?” Jem asked excitedly.
“I always leave a small housewarming gift at each job,” Jack explained. “This is yours.”
Before she could express her thanks, Jack grabbed her hands and pulled her over to the door of the pantry, still draped in plastic. He ripped the covering away with a flourish.
Speechless again, Jem took in the racks and shelves filling the enlarged space. She gasped at the sight of an oversize window that hadn’t been there before.
Jack gestured at the pantry. “Dave was excited when we discovered an existing window. At some point, it got covered with plywood, most likely during a hurricane. No one ever bothered to take the wood down. The workers found it a few days ago and Dave thought you’d enjoy the surprise. It gives some much-needed natural lighting and opens the whole area up. The new window came in yesterday and was the last thing we installed.”
“I love it. It’s going to be so much easier going in there now.” Jem gazed at the space.
“We replaced the original door with a pocket door.” He slid the door out partially. “I thought a door that could never accidentally swing shut would be better.”
Jem faced him, tears aching behind her eyes. He’d removed a potential nightmare from her daily life. “That is so thoughtful. I love how creative you are—designing something I can easily live with. I’m never going to have to stand in the doorway working up the courage to dash inside and grab something. How can I thank you?”
Jack’s eyes gleamed as he pushed her inside the pantry. Following closely, he pulled her into his arms, worked her skirt up around her waist and laid his lips across hers, making the pantry a happier place for her.
He whispered in her ear, “Open your eyes, Jem, and look out the window.”
Truthfully, she’d spent more time gazing into his heated eyes than looking at the wide-open spaces over his head as he made her scream in ecstasy, helping her vanquish the last of her fear. He held her as they caught their breath, then made her laugh by telling her they’d conquer the shower next, and after that, maybe they’d find an elevator or small, dark closet somewhere to work out any remaining issues.
Standing in the pantry now, the memory of how he’d deliberately sandwiched her between the wall and his hard body electrified her. He’d held her in place with his hands and hips, kissing away the panic that should have built at being in the small space.
She had known in that instant her heart belonged to him. Jack was a wonderful, amazing human being who could make her scream in passion one minute and sob in satisfaction the next. He’d helped tame her claustrophobia with creative and inventive thoughts and deeds. This man had welcomed her to the community and introduced her to his friends without a thought. Jack had casually mentioned the only way into his family at this point was through marriage, and she didn’t think it was such a bad idea. She smiled at the thought of his being savory to her sweet. He made her feel like she belonged.
Oh. God. She’d fallen in love with him. When the realization hit, she’d been in the greatly enlarged, significantly less claustrophobic pantry, lining the shelves, bringing order to the chaos left in the kitchen.
Her love for Jack was still uppermost in her mind when his sister came into the café. The excited cries of two five-year-olds and sudden, happy barking of Clooney pulled Jem out of the blissful reverie she’d fallen into. Pippa had called this morning, inviting herself for a visit.
“Jem! We’re here! Where are you?”
She swiped happy tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and sai
d a silent prayer her eye makeup hadn’t smeared.
“In the kitchen.” She raised her voice. “Come on back.”
The twins burst through the door and skidded to a stop as they got their first glimpse of a truly beautiful, functional kitchen. Not that they understood what functional meant. Pippa would see gleaming, stainless-steel appliances and countertops along with a high-tech cooktop and massive ovens capable of feeding a crowd. Judging by the way the twins tucked their hands behind their backs, what they saw were multiple opportunities to leave fingerprint smudges on shiny surfaces their mother had warned them not to touch.
Jem knelt down and hugged the twins. “Well, hey! This is a surprise. I didn’t know you guys were coming by.”
“BC said we should come and look ’cause you owned the prettiest kitchen in three whole states,” Mason said somberly. “What’s so special ’bout it? It’s just a ol’ kitchen. But the stove is kinda neat. It’s like a Gigantor stove.”
“Yeah.” Mia giggled.
Jem’s laughter eclipsed the shushing sound their mother made. “Mason, in a kitchen like this, almost anything is possible. I was just wondering whether that monster stove really worked. If it doesn’t, there will be some disappointed and hungry people in Granite Pointe. I was just going to try it out. What do you think I should make?”
Mason and Mia responded excitedly, in unison. “Scrambled egg sammiches!”
“Like Miss Caroline made? I remember how to make those, but I might need help. Do you think your mom will let you stay?”
“Only if she can help, too.” Pippa finally spoke. “Holy cow, Jem. This is the most wonderful kitchen I have ever seen. I have appliance envy. You did good.”
“Jack did good. I just threw occasional suggestions out. He humored me.”
“That’s not the way he tells it. He says you had very definite ideas about what you wanted and weren’t afraid to express them. Plus—and believe me, this is big—he says you know how to get what you want while working within the budget. He said he was going to ask your advice on another kitchen project he and Sam have in the works. Did he mention it to you?”
Cooking Up Love Page 20