by Susan Ward
Lena sat at a mirrored dressing table, slowly undoing her hair from the tight bun she wore on stage. As the curls fell across her shoulders, I realized the shiny black strands were longer than the last time I’d seen her and she was still too perfect to be real.
Her gaze shifted in the glass, locking on mine.
“Jackson Parker,” she murmured on her low purr, though it didn’t escape me that she hadn’t moved from her chair or even turned to face me.
“Lena Mansur,” I said, the name fresh in my head after seeing the clipboard, but once it was out I wanted to kick myself. That was a fucking landmine to open this with—that she’d gone back to her maiden name at some point in the last two years without my knowing it.
“I was about to think you wouldn’t be here tonight.”
I couldn’t tell what was in her voice, so I told her the truth. “I almost didn’t come. I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”
Her eyes moved from mine as she reached for a brush. “I left your name on the list.”
I nodded. “I know. It surprised me.” I watched her preen her hair, and for some reason, her sitting there irritated me. “That you’d gone back to your maiden name surprised me, too. What were you trying to tell me with that one, Lena?”
She arched one brow. “Nothing. I did have a career before you, Jack.”
“And you had a marriage after, with me. Not that I’ve seen much evidence of it lately.”
That made her turn to face me.
Oh fuck, I hadn’t meant to say that, and by the way she was staring at me I was sure I’d just run this reunion into a ditch in the first five minutes.
“Do I still have a marriage?”
My face heated.
Christ, she did have a way of touching on the ugly topics without ever addressing them directly, and for making me feel awful without saying an unkind word.
She’d knocked me back on my heels with six words.
I met her gaze evenly. “You do if you want to, doll.”
Oh fuck, second blunder—that made me sound like a glib asshole.
I was stumbling through this just like that first night I’d met her. Some things never changed—not after marriage, or age, or celebrity—me with her, wanting her so much it hurt and desperately hoping she wanted me also.
I leaned back against the closed door and waited for whatever direction she was going to take us. She had that Lena look about her; everything worked out in her head before I ever showed here.
She stared at me, saying nothing.
Fine. Christ. I’d make the first move.
Me chasing her.
Why should that be any different?
I locked her in my gaze, praying she could see the truth in my eyes. “I’m yours if you want me, Lena.”
She stood up and lifted her chin in that proud way of hers as she stepped toward me. “I’m not sure I should want you. You do make it hard for a woman to love you. And you’re still a frustrating man.”
“I definitely want you. You’re still an interesting woman.”
She paused, her body close yet not touching, but my senses were filled with her in a way that was pure agony.
“Don’t break my heart again,” she warned.
Fuck. She’d had her thing with Reggie. I hadn’t even brought that up, and seeing her made me decide not to, that perhaps it was better for us all for me not to know everything.
I forgave her the moment I stepped into her dressing room. Christ, why couldn’t she forgive me?
I closed my eyes against the threatening tears. “Never again. I promise. So long as you don’t leave me.”
“Never again. I promise. So long as you don’t stop loving me.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was the difference between darkness and light. Her in my arms, loving me. No other woman felt the way Lena did. Touched the way she did. Knew my body the way she did. Or would ever own my heart the way she did.
I shivered as she slowly eased up on my cock and brought her mouth to my lips. “I’ve missed you, Jack,” she whispered between the movements of our kiss.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I answered, my hands on her hips guiding her down on my shaft.
Her head rolled back, and I watched as she rode me.
“I want us to love again, Jack.”
“I never stopped.”
I turned her beneath me on the bed and plunged deeply within her. I arched up, fighting against the heat that pulsed all through my body.
I slowly eased out and rammed into her again as her nails dug into my forearms and her back arched up.
Nearly two years I hadn’t known this.
Not a single sensation of loving her was different.
I wanted every drop I could get.
Of her.
Wanting us.
Her arms and legs tightened around me, her hips flexing into me, urging me faster, but oh no, not this first time together again would I let the urgent demand of my body make this one ounce less than it could be.
I’d waited so long for this.
Another hard pump, then I pulled my body free from hers and made a trek with my mouth down to her mound to taste her again.
I ran my tongue up her slit, taunting her bud as her fingers locked in my hair. She moved against my mouth, greedy and demanding, bringing my hand to her breast as I sank a finger into her, moving it in time with my tongue.
“Oh, Jack.” She moaned as her release ran across her flesh, and before the shivers had stopped, I buried myself back in her.
I rolled over, taking her with me, and when she tried to take control again, I stilled her on my chest.
I brushed back the curls from her face. “Slowly, Lena. I don’t want this to end. Not ever.”
~
Later, we lay in each other’s arms in the apartment I’d bought for her and had hardly let her see when we got here the night before.
We’d slipped from her dressing room to her waiting car, Lena cutting out on the after-performance reception and me cutting out on Liam. It had been excruciating not making love to her the second the driver closed the door behind us, and even harder during the long minutes in the elevator to the top floor and our apartment.
I’d imagined her being home a thousand times in my head. How it made me feel, what that was to me, was something I couldn’t imagine.
It pretty much killed every lame fantasy I’d had of what it would be for us our first night together again. Anything other than me loving her seemed trivial.
I whisked her away to the bedroom, making love to her in every breath as it should have always been, and now that we were together again nothing else in the world was of any importance.
She kissed my chest. “This time it will be good between us, won’t it, Jack?”
I kissed her lightly across her face as I struggled not to let my expression change because before—well, before I read Reggie’s journal—I thought it had been good between us.
“Whatever you want, Lena. That’s all I want to give you.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m trusting you with my heart.”
“I’m trusting you with my everything.”
She laughed softly with a hint of something almost akin to sadness in it, and then lay back on my chest. “Still fast on your feet with a charming line.”
“Still trying to get you to stay forever,” I whispered before I claimed her lips and started to make love to her again.
The next morning, I woke to find her gone from the bed. It was dawn, though I wasn’t sure how I had the strength to wake so early, and I was mildly surprised she’d slipped from my arms and the sheets for her Lena ritual even our first day together.
I grabbed my jeans from the floor, pulled them in place, and went to the patio. She was curled in a chair, face tilted toward the sky, as I expected her to be. Only Lena wasn’t smiling. Her features were that tight blend of worry and unsureness she sometimes had. And I couldn’t imagine why that look was on her face after the night we’d just
shared. I wondered if she was thinking…
“Do you miss Reggie?”
The way she startled and how her eyes changed told me both my voice and question surprised her, and fuck, it hadn’t been a smart move to ask that since I didn’t want to bring the elephant between us into the room.
She smiled sadly. “Sometimes. He was a good friend. To the both of us. Don’t you miss him?”
Good friend?
“I miss him at times as much as I hate him,” I admitted.
She studied me for a moment, confused and hurt by that confession.
Her brow puckered. “Why would you hate him?”
I shook my head, anxiously running my hand through my hair because I didn’t want go there and I wasn’t sure why I’d started it. “It doesn’t matter now.” And it wasn’t until I said that that I realized it was true.
My wants were as simple and uncomplicated in my heart as they’d always been. I wanted her to love me.
“I love you, Lena. Maybe even more now than I did before. I never stopped loving you.”
She smiled slightly, amused. “Before what? Me leaving you?”
My eyes locked on her. “We left each other. That’s how I see the last two years. Now we’ve found each other again.”
Her eyes glowed and her smile grew large. “I like that. A hopeful answer.”
I scooped her up from the chair and the blanket dropped away, revealing to me she was naked. “I’m taking you back to bed whether you want to go or not.”
Her laugher was a husky moan as I kissed her neck and carried her toward our room. I set her down on the bed, and her gorgeous brown eyes shimmered as they fixed on me.
She opened her arms. “Back to bed. I like that, too. A hopeful answer.”
After we made love, she made me breakfast and called Walter. She hadn’t gotten a hotel room in the city and Sammy was there. We were both eager to pick him up, but me more so because I hadn’t seen my boy in over a year.
When she hung up the phone, I teased her. “You were confident I’d show at the concert hall and later we’d end up together here, weren’t you?”
She bit back a smile, watching me over her coffee cup.
I leaned in and kissed her. “Don’t pretend you weren’t. You don’t have me fooled. I know your tricks. Besides, you would have never stayed at your father’s if you’d thought you were staying more than a few days.”
She laughed, her head tilting back. “I’ve grown obvious, it seems.”
My gaze and lips softened. “I kind of like it. Me being able to read you for a change.”
She laughed harder. I started laughing as well. It took a moment before I could speak. “Why are we laughing, Lena?”
Her lids flew wide and her eyes sparkled. “Because I love you, and I’d forgotten how good it feels when you laugh, Jack.”
I took her hand in both of mine and kissed her fingers. “I laugh because you make me happy. I don’t laugh when you’re away.”
She shook her head and pulled back her hand before she looked away. “Stop flirting with me. We’re not going back to bed. We’re going to pick up Sammy.”
We left for Brooklyn after showering and dressing. Lena wouldn’t have it any other way, and as much as I wanted to see our son, I would have preferred a little extra time alone with her. A day or maybe two. A mini-honeymoon to put our second start on solid footing.
Last night had been a good start. We were moving in the right direction, finally, but we were moving slowly, cautious and unsure, in the direction I was pretty sure we both were ready for at last.
As we traveled by taxi, I consoled myself that having a child in the house hadn’t slowed us down before. Lena was a charming blend of New York sophistication, old world beliefs, and flat-out passionate about everything.
Sex had never been our problem.
Staring out the window, I realized I still wasn’t sure what had made us pull apart.
It wasn’t sex.
I was certain it wasn’t love.
I’d glibly told Liam life happened, but fuck, that was just the kind of bullshit people said when they didn’t know what went wrong with something.
Lena leaned in to me and kissed my arm. “What’s wrong, Jack? You’re looking very serious.”
I kissed her nose. “I would have thought you’d like that. Isn’t one of my problems I’m never serious about anything?”
Her eyes flashed briefly.
Oh damn.
Then she laid her cheek against my arm. “You’re serious about me. That’s the only thing you ever need to be serious about.”
It was a light comment, lovingly her, but I sensed it meant more. “I’ve been serious about you since the first moment I saw you. You just didn’t think so.”
She shook her head. “Wrong, Jack. I thought that instantly. Why do you think I’m here with you?”
“My charm and good looks?”
She swatted me. “You just ruined a moment that was perfect.”
I grinned. “Perfect, huh? Why?”
She laid her palm on my cheek. “Because it just was.”
The cab stopped and the driver opened the door to find us all tangled up kissing in the backseat. After disentangling, Lena hurried to the curb ahead of me, and it was hard not to laugh as I paid the cabbie.
I took her hand before I headed up the steps to Walter’s front door. “Mrs. Parker, we’re married. Why are you blushing? He’s a cabbie. Trust me. He’s seen more in his backseat than us making out.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not blushing. It’s happy color in my cheeks.”
I kissed her in the center of one of her rosy circles. I knocked on Walter’s door feeling like a man who owned the world, but when I stepped into his living room I ran headfirst into a shaming reality.
I stared into the room, my heart a painful knot in my throat. My God, was that Sammy? The last time I’d seen him he was six. He was just shy of eight now—but fuck, how could a little boy change so much so quickly?
It underscored the truth I’d avoided: the last two years I’d been a horrible father as well. Somehow in my obsession over Lena I’d escaped that failure.
He stood there, staring at me, beside Walter.
“Oh, Sammy, let me look at my boy,” I said, crossing the room to give him a hug, but he didn’t hug me back and I didn’t blame him.
“It’s good to see you, Dad.”
Oh fuck, that pierced my center brutally.
I crouched down until we were at eye level. “I love you, Sammy. I’m glad you’re home, and you are not ever leaving again.”
~
Liam was right. A good marriage took work. There was no way to describe what it took to put together a fractured family. We both had active careers, and Lena returning to the New York Philharmonic didn’t make our schedule easier. She had rehearsals and performances. My time was booked for a year. Commitments to Columbia Records, the peace movement, and weeks on the road.
As hard as it was, somehow we slowly eased into a better place throughout the months of ’68. The three of us were a family, not like it had been, because none of us—not me or Lena or even Sammy—were who we’d been.
But the problems were still there.
Beneath the surface.
I knew it and I suspected Lena did as well.
There was no shortage of love, so whatever nipped at us, threatening everything we were trying to build, I figured would be cured if we kept working at it.
Only, our problems were different from Lena’s perspective, and I was still making the same mistake thinking we were traveling on the same road.
Chapter Thirty
I came off eight weeks on the road, dead tired, trying to keep up with each demand on my life, and somehow brought the movement home with me.
Patty and George, married now, were living in New York and fervently vocal peace activists of some fame. George specialized in civil rights law—and other things— things I didn’t dare tell Lena about.
She already thought they were too radical. My involvement with them would have terrified her and sent her into fits.
I’d successfully kept the parts of my life separate, only somehow this night I hadn’t. Long before ’68 I was all-in, a true believer in what we were trying to accomplish. True, it had started as me trying to make up for whatever my part was in what had happened to Reggie by picking up his causes, but it had evolved in the two years Lena had been away into something as much a part of me as her, music, and Sammy.
Maybe that’s why I’d brought our circle home, subconsciously ready to end Jack living a double life. Only it wasn’t Good Time Jack versus married Jack. It was Jack who loved Lena versus Jack who was tired of being only a part of the man I was while with her.
Shit, I don’t know.
Maybe I was just hurt that she didn’t understand the things I did and believed in.
We had a wide variety of covert operations that were hidden beneath my very vocal words. I never got too close to what our group did. I funded. I was at meetings like the one in my living room this night, but fuck, they were breaking the law and I was a senator’s son—still, even though he shunned and criticized me regularly in the press.
Catching me as an active participant in something would have risked Patty and Georgie and everyone. Worse, the FBI—who had me on a watch list—were itching for me to make a mistake.
Nope, bringing this mob to my living room was not a smart move for a variety of reasons, but I did it anyway.
The longer the meeting went on, the louder we got. We argued about everything. True democracy at work, Patty liked to say, since she was the one always arguing over everything.
They needed money.
Trips across the border.
Safe houses in Canada.
Setting up the support structure once we got the objectors to the draft out of the country; that’s where Georgie came in. He knew every useless fact about everything, only now they weren’t useless.
Civil rights law was his forte, but fuck, he could fake identification and funnel money to ex-pats in ways even the government couldn’t figure out.
Only tonight we weren’t plotting the escape of draft dissidents. Nope, the two boys in my living room were the subject of a manhunt for something they’d done in the heat of the chaos after a protest had turned violent.