The Road Home

by Jill Shalvis

  And suddenly she didn’t want to go home alone.

  Jason hadn’t come today with an animal for her to fix up, and she knew that was her own doing. She thought she’d feel relief, but instead she’d been on edge all day, constantly checking the waiting room, wishing he’d show up.

  Either he’d finally run out of animals, or she’d chased him off for good.

  She’d chased him off for good. Damn it.

  She drove to the grocery store and picked the items carefully. She even bought a basket to put them all in, and because she was nervous, she spent a few moments arranging everything in it before she drove to Jason’s house.

  She’d gotten his address off all the forms he’d filled out over the past week and a half, and even her anxious wondering what he’d think of her showing up out of the blue didn’t stop her.

  His large property was lined by oak trees. She turned into the driveway and eyed the largest oak tree at the end of it, knowing that was the one that Jason had hit. She shivered thinking about it and all he’d been through.

  She passed half a mile of wild grass over unused fields before she saw the old, restored farmhouse, surrounded and shaded by more gnarly old oak trees swaying in the evening wind.

  Getting out of her car with the basket over her arm was easy. Walking up his steps with the intention of making the first move on a man for the first time in her life was not.

  Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how she looked at it—she didn’t have far to go. He sat on the wooden swing on his porch, with his laptop resting in his lap.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  Clearly lost in concentration, he looked up distractedly, but then he blinked, as if waking from a dream.

  She felt silly standing there holding the basket, and stupid for interrupting him when he was obviously deep in work mode. “I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

  “No, don’t go.” He closed his computer and set it aside. “I was just thinking of you.”

  “With such a serious expression on your face?” Her pulse doubled when he stood up. Tripled when he came toward her.

  “Was I looking serious?” he asked. “I don’t usually do serious.”

  But he had, and she wondered why. Then all the wondering flew out of her brain when he put his hands on the small of her back, then glided them over her spine, up and down, down and up, in a hypnotizing motion that had her wanting to stretch and purr like a kitten.

  Now the only thing on her mind was his kiss, his easy ways, and she felt the urge to toss her arms around his neck and let him take her.

  And why not let him? It was why she’d come. “Jason…”

  He looked down at her mouth, his eyes heating. “Yeah?”

  “I came here to…” She bit her lip, laughed a little at herself. “To tell you how much I’ve enjoyed your company.”

  He let out a long breath, looking suddenly serious again. “Mel, wait. There’s something you should know—”

  “I can’t wait. I want you, Jason,” she blurted out. “There.” She offered him a shaky smile. “There.”

  He put his fingers over her mouth, his jaw bunching tight. “Don’t. God, Mel, don’t.”

  Confusion, also some humiliation, burned in her gut. “I thought you’d be glad.”

  He groaned, a low, raw sound, then with an oath that blistered her ears, he kissed her, long and wet and deep. Then he gently pushed her away. “You’ve got to go.”

  His voice was rough, his breathing ragged and confused. She stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know. Go. Please, just go. Don’t waste your time on me.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JASON STOOD THERE on his porch with his back to Mel. He squeezed his eyes tight and barely resisted the urge to throw something. Hell, yes, he’d wanted her to want him, but having not told her about Rose made him feel like the biggest jerk on earth.

  He’d met her under false pretenses. He’d kept talking to her under false pretenses. Bringing those damn animals. Maybe if he’d only done that the first time with Bob, maybe if he’d opened up and told her the truth…but he hadn’t.

  Not once.

  How the hell had this happened to him, when all he’d wanted to do was help out Rose with her daughter, he hadn’t a clue. But he’d underestimated the amount of baggage and pain that had come with Mel’s past, and he shouldn’t have. She’d be pissed when she found out, and rightfully so.

  He felt a hand on his back, urging him around to face her. She was smiling at him with the sweetest, sexiest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of, and suddenly he knew she’d started to fall for him every bit as much as he’d fallen for her. The victory was bittersweet. “Mel—”

  Leaning in, she gave him a soft, melting kiss. “I’m scaring you. I don’t mean to.”

  Now she was worried about him. He was so un-deserving of her—

  “I brought you a picnic. But I don’t want to eat yet. Actually, I had something else in mind—food was just sort of a bribe.”

  Oh God. “What—” He had to clear his throat. “What did you have in mind?”

  Her eyes heated. “Take me to your bedroom and I’ll show you.” Before he could say a word, she’d taken his hand and opened his front door.

  Then she shot him a smile over her shoulder, a smile that promised an evening he’d never forget, a smile that promised oblivion from his torturing thoughts, a smile that promised everything he’d ever wanted.

  But after he had followed her down the hall to his bedroom, the sheets tumbled all over because he hadn’t bothered making his bed that morning, he got a good, long look at her from the low-burning lamp on his nightstand.

  Beneath that sensual expression danced an anxiety that told him she wasn’t comfortable making the first move, that she was half-braced for his rejection.

  As if he’d ever reject her. And yet, how could he do this before he admitted—

  She kicked off her heels, and her hands went to the buttons on her white blouse.

  He swallowed hard as she slowly revealed a strip of creamy skin and the curve of her breasts. His entire body reacted, but he forced himself to stand there with his hands at his side because how in good faith could he make love to her with his little secret between them. “Melissa—”

  “This is really out of character for me,” she admitted with a shaky laugh. “But I wanted to be bold tonight. Shameless.”

  She was doing a damn fine job, and it was his job to stop her. Stop her from feeling free and open and—

  Ah, hell, he couldn’t. He couldn’t take this away from her.

  Or him.

  The material fell open and her fingers moved to the fastener of her black trousers.

  His mouth went dry. “You—we…”

  “I want you,” she whispered, suddenly the sure, calm one in the room. “I’m tired of ignoring all my emotions. I want you, and I am going to show you how much.”

  Her pants fell from her hips. She shrugged off her shirt, leaving her standing before him in a white lacy bra and matching panties and nothing else.

  Which made him Dead Man Walking.

  MEL WATCHED HIM as he moved close to her. She saw need, hunger, even fear, everything she felt as well, and her heart lightened. She wasn’t just acting on her lust, though there was plenty of that.

  This was more, so much, much more. And she wanted him to feel it, too.

  “Melissa…”

  She put her fingers against his mouth. “Please, Jason. Just for tonight.”

  For a long beat he simply looked at her. “Please,” she whispered.

  In response, he yanked his shirt off over his head. Beneath, he was solid, tanned, and rippled with a lean strength that made her mouth water.

  His mouth skimmed her jaw softly. She turned her face toward him so that their lips connected, and her entire body relaxed as the tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding slowly started to drain.

  “Melissa…” His arms ba
nded tightly around her while his lips nibbled so softly, so sweetly against hers. “You are so beautiful, you take my breath. And there’s no way this is just for tonight. Know that right now.”

  And then he changed the angle of the kiss, deepening it, tasting just as good as he smelled, which was one-hundred-percent male, and she thought she might die of the pleasure of it. This was what she’d needed tonight, and she’d been right to come and get it, to do something for herself, with a man she both yearned for and was beginning to trust.

  This, with him, was right, and she felt her loneliness ease. But it wasn’t all about her loneliness. She’d been alone a good long time and she’d never sought to ease it before.

  It was Jason. He was different, and he enthralled her. She knew it was crazy, and far too soon, but so much about him made her forget to hold back. He was physical yet tender. Smart, confident. His own man.

  And in her, he saw something unique, something special, and when he looked at her with that knowledge in his eyes, she felt a little unique, a little special.

  A little…his.

  His pants joined hers on the floor, and then he pressed her back, until her legs bumped into his mattress. He followed her down, surrounding her body with his, gliding his hands up her back to hold her close, sliding a muscled leg between hers.

  Between the sounds of the night coming in his opened window, the beautiful stars lighting their way, and the feel of his body rocking to hers, she started to come undone.

  He was a stranger, really. Nothing about his body was familiar to her, and yet she felt as if she’d known him all her life. Her body certainly seemed to know him, arching, writhing beneath his skillful hands and even more talented mouth as he skimmed both over her body until she was panting, whimpering, poised on the very edge and shaking with it.

  A stranger.

  And yet not a stranger. Not at all. “Jason—”

  “I know.” He groaned when she touched him back, murmuring his encouragement, showing her with his hands over hers how to bring him pleasure.

  His mouth came down, more hungrily this time, and that hunger was contagious. “Jason…now. Please now.”

  He’d buried his face in her neck, his breathing ragged, but he reared up, grabbing a condom from his nightstand, pressing her into the bed, gliding his hands down her thighs to hold them open while he slid into her.

  Before him, she’d been lost. This entire night, with his hands and his mouth on her, she’d held that feeling at bay, and now, with him buried inside her to the hilt, she suddenly realized she wasn’t lost at all, not in his arms. As he began to thrust into her, driving her higher and higher, taking her into a shattering climax and beyond, she discovered the truth.

  In his arms, she was where she was meant to be—she was home.

  It was as simple and terrifying as that.

  SHE MUST HAVE DOZED because when her eyes fluttered open, full darkness had descended.

  She was still in Jason’s bed.

  He had her snugged in tight to his body. Her face was pressed up against his bare chest, their legs entangled. His hands were roaming free, severely hampering her ability to remain sleepy.

  “Again?” she whispered thickly, tilting her face to look into his.

  “Oh, yeah,” he breathed, and then they were rolling over his great big bed, until he had her back beneath him. Smiles fading, they stared into each other’s eyes. He brushed her hair out of her face, stroked a finger down her throat, over her breasts.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to press closer. He held back only to take her face in his hands and study her for a long moment before dipping his head to kiss her long and deep.

  It was slower this time, and even hotter for it. He touched her with his eyes, his hands, his mouth, and when he finally entered her again, he took her to the point of release and beyond, and then before she could even begin to catch her breath, started again.

  Everything they did to each other in that bed—the kisses, the touches, the entwining of bodies, everything—lifted her up and away from the woman she thought she was. If he hadn’t been right alongside her, just as out of control, she wouldn’t have been able to face him afterward, wouldn’t have been able to smile and nod when he’d softly asked her to stay, wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep in his arms with a sated, dreamy smile of hope on her face.

  JASON WOKE UP as he always did. Slowly. He’d dreamed last night, dreamed about his book. Love was the answer for his hero, and the way to find his way home was to follow his heart. Too bad he didn’t know how to write a romance.

  Maybe he could try to figure it out in real life instead.

  Follow his heart.

  He reached out for the woman who’d made him feel that way, but he was the only one in the bed. He sat straight up. “Mel?”

  No answer, and he craned his neck to the left to eye the floor where they’d dropped their clothes the night before. Only his. Not a good sign.

  He craned his neck the other way to look into his bathroom. The door was open, the little room empty.

  Leaping out of bed, he skidded to a halt in the doorway to the kitchen, but no hauntingly beautiful Melissa there, either. She’d ditched him.

  Naked, out of sorts, he padded back to his bedroom and saw the note on his nightstand.

  Jason,

  I had to run, the clinic opens at eight. You were sleeping like…well, like a man who had a long night.

  Here she’d drawn a picture of a smiley face, making him grin like an idiot.

  See you later.

  I hope.

  Melissa

  He read the note again, then plopped back onto his bed and studied the ceiling. She hadn’t ditched him. She’d just gone to work.

  She’d drawn a smiley face.

  Slowly his smile faded.

  He hadn’t told her the truth. He’d made love to her without telling her the truth. Why had he done that?

  Because she’d taken off her clothes. Because she’d kissed him, because…because nothing. No excuse was going to work here, and he knew it.

  He pulled a pair of loose sweats over his hips and opened his laptop. At least his hero now had a clue.

  He just wished he did, as well.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MELISSA PRACTICALLY SKIPPED into the clinic. She couldn’t believe how good she felt, or the silly smile she knew was all over her face.

  Leftover from last night, and what a night it’d been.

  In Jason’s arms, she’d glowed, she’d laughed, she’d cried. She’d felt alive. For so long she’d been on her own, and for so long, she had thought that’s how it had to be. Without a lot of experience letting people in, without a lot of trusting, she’d convinced herself that was just the way.

  Now she’d let this town in. She’d let Rose in, at least for a job.

  And she’d let Jason in.

  It felt good.

  Curiously enough, the lights were already on in the clinic, as was the music. Rose sat behind the front desk in a bright green sundress today, with a matching visor and sparkly lipstick. She was clicking away at the computer, the desk neat as a pin around her. Melissa had the sudden urge to both laugh and cry.

  On Rose’s shoulder sat a parrot that looked an awful lot like the parrot Jason had brought in, which come to think of it, she hadn’t seen at his house.

  It couldn’t be the same one.

  “Rose,” the parrot squawked.

  Rose laughed. “Rose, hush.”

  It was the bird from Jason’s visit. Melissa moved closer, noting in some distant recess of her mind, which was still reeling, that the floor had been cleaned, the countertop reorganized. Even the windows sparkled. “You and the bird are both named Rose?”

  “Well, I had the name first, but she just kept calling herself Rose, from the moment I first got her a couple of years back. Hard to argue with a parrot. Honey, I have a stack of billings ready to go out. Do you want to look them over?”

  �
�The parrot belongs to you?”

  “Since the moment I walked into the shop where she was for sale, singing her little heart out to the elevator music playing there.” Rose laughed in memory, and without looking up, pointed to the printer, which was spitting out paperwork. “Now I know you don’t think you need my help, but I intend to make myself so useful you can’t turn me away. I want to do this, Melissa, please let me do this—”

  “I thought the bird was Jason’s. He said it was his.”

  Rose went still, her finger in the air pointing toward the printer, which fell silent suddenly.

  The entire world went silent.

  “Rose,” squawked the parrot, and bobbed her head to some beat only she could hear.

  Or maybe she was rocking to Melissa’s heartbeat, which was roaring in her ears. “You live on his street,” she said to Rose. “I noticed that last night when I went to his house. You live only a few houses away.”

  “Melissa—”

  “Do you by any chance own a cat named Bob and a dog named Bear?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Or a potbellied pig named Miss Piggy?”

  “Uh—”

  “Do you?”

  Rose dropped her hand to her side. Looked away. “I knew it would come to this, I just couldn’t help myself.”

  Melissa sat in one of the patient waiting chairs, mostly because her legs had gone weak, but also because she’d just realized something else.

  Her natural high on life was gone. Crash and burn.

  Back to normal.

  “Honey.” Rose came around the front desk, crossing the floor in her fancy little sandals with a natural grace and elegance Mel had never achieved. “I was going crazy. You wouldn’t let me in, I had to find a way in.”

  “So you bribed a guy to make me—” She couldn’t even say it out loud. Her mother had bribed a guy to make her fall for him, sneaking past her defenses, opening her heart, ripping it in two.

  And it had worked.