by Linda Cajio
“Jake, you’re talking in cliches,” she said. “And no, of course I didn’t bring every female. Just a few friends, mostly wives of the men you brought.” She brightened. “Think of it as a couples night out—”
“A couples night out!” he bellowed.
“Don’t blame Charity,” a voice broke in.
Jake focused on the speaker. “Mary! You came on this … this …?” He couldn’t find words. “I can’t believe it.” In the dim light he recognized several other women from work. “Dammit, half the office is here!” He looked at each woman in turn. “None of you are to say anything to these men about being here. Do you understand? It isn’t easy for men to let their emotions go, but they’ve done that tonight. And maybe now they’ll let their emotions out with you. But not if you humiliate them about it. You’ve all had your private laugh on men, and I have no doubt we deserve it. But now forget it, okay?”
Wide-eyed, all the women nodded.
He took Charity’s arm. “You, I’m driving home.”
“But my car—”
“Give the keys to Mary. She’ll see it gets there.”
“Jake, you’re making a big thing out of—”
“Charity,” he said between clenched teeth, “please give Mary the keys. I would like to talk with you at length and in private.”
To her credit, she finally looked chagrined and handed over her car keys to Mary. Mary eyed him as she took them. “Ah, Charity, are you sure about this?”
“No,” Charity said. “If I’m not at work on Monday, notify the police to look for my body.”
“Ladies, please,” Jake said, ignoring Charity’s melodrama, “for the sake of your husbands, co-workers, and significant others, go home now.”
The women slowly dispersed and got into the two cars. Jake waited with Charity until the cars were heading back to the main road, then he walked her over to his car. Before she got into the passenger side, she said, “I know I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I never should have done it. But don’t you think you’re making too much of this?”
“Get in the damn car,” he snapped, finally letting loose his anger.
She got in the damn car.
He drove in silence, gripping the wheel tightly and trying to keep his concentration on his driving. He failed miserably. Damn her, he thought. He’d turned to her for advice because he’d thought she was different. He’d truly wanted to share with her, and she brought an audience. No wonder men stayed in their shells like they did. The moment they poked out for a look, a woman was right there ready to lop his pride off, among other parts of his anatomy.
“I really am sorry,” she said finally in a small voice. “I heard the discussion, some of it. I understand better about the problems and pressures men face. So there was some good tonight, Jake.”
“Yes … well …” It seemed senseless to give her the same lecture again. “Why did you do it?”
“Would you be able to resist a bunch of women throwing their bras onto a bonfire and dancing around naked?”
“You’ve got a point,” he muttered reluctantly. “But that still doesn’t make it right.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She was silent for a moment. The road stretched out ahead of them in the car’s headlights. Far in the distance were pinpoints of red, the taillights of the car in front of them. No cars were driving toward them. “You did trust me,” she went on, “and I’m sorry I couldn’t resist following you. And bringing friends. It was wrong of me.”
The fight slowly went out of him. He should have known the temptation would be too great for her. The movement seemed silly to outsiders, and women did view it as a backlash to feminism. Still, he was annoyed with her. “I guess I understand.”
“Does this mean I’m out of the hair shirt?” she asked.
He chuckled at his own words coming back to him. “Not completely.”
“That figures. I guess you’ll never tell me about another ‘wild man’ again.”
“Maybe after the fact. And only if the mayor strips down to his underwear.”
She laughed. The tension between them was dissipating, and he felt good that they were back to their old ground of semi-friendship. He still was having trouble getting beyond that, though. Yet, in a way, he didn’t want to. He wanted to be friends with Charity. He’d started out viewing her from strictly a man’s point of view, completely physical. Now that he’d seen so much more of her, he wanted more. He wanted an easiness with her, with all women, that he’d never had before. And wasn’t that the point of the men’s movement? To grow up enough to have a true partnership with the other half of the human species while meeting one’s own basic physical and emotional needs?
“Do you think those women will say anything to the men?” he asked. “It really would humiliate them and negate everything they’ve gained.”
“I doubt it.” She chuckled. “You scared them half to death. Most of them are probably worried for their jobs right now.”
“They’d never lose them for this,” he said quickly.
“I know that, and they’ll realize it soon enough. Are you sure I can’t tell Dave he looks like a beached whale without his shirt on?”
“No, you can’t tell Dave,” he said, grinning. He cast her a quick glance. “Do I look like a beached whale with my shirt off?”
The atmosphere in the car instantly changed from friendly to intimate. Charity said nothing, just stared straight ahead.
“Charity,” he murmured.
“No.”
Her voice was so low, he almost didn’t hear it. Almost. Pleasure seeped through his veins, along with the welcome heat of desire. She shifted in her seat, and he glanced over at her. Her hair was loose and curved around her profile, softening the angles of her face. He wanted to reach out and touch her, feel those silken strands wrap themselves around his fingers. He wanted to gather her hair in his hands and spread it out on a white pillow. Her lips would part slightly, and he would kiss her, tasting her sweetness. Then he would lower himself on top of her, feel her breasts crush against his chest, her hips cradle his in their softness, her legs raise up and tighten around him, pulling him into the folds of her moist flesh …
“Jake, don’t.”
He blinked. The car came back into focus. She hadn’t turned her head and looked at him, just said the words. She must feel it as much as he did, he realized. He wanted her, right there, right then. And he knew that if he tried, it would be the worst mistake of his life.
They completed the drive to her apartment in silence.
Due to unexpectedly high costs, all employee health benefits will cease as of July 31. The management at Wayans, Inc., regrets this loss to each of you. The personnel office can supply you with alternative ways to receive health care benefits. If you have any questions, contact Jake Halford, vice president.
Charity read and reread the memo she’d found on her desk with a growing sense of dread. It was signed by Charles Mitchelson, president and CEO of Wayans. People murmured all around her as they came back from lunch and found the innocent-looking paper on their desks. The noise grew louder with exclamations of shock and dismay.
Charity closed her eyes, praying that she was dreaming all this, then opened them, hoping she would find the words completely changed. One glance told her they hadn’t. Her carefully structured finances just took a tailspin into disaster. How would she ever be able to afford private insurance? And how could she do without it?
Jake’s long-ago words about streamlining came back to her. This was major streamlining. He’d never said a word, she thought, anger building up inside her. Not a word.
An irritatingly rational voice reminded her that she’d already betrayed one confidence with him and maybe he didn’t trust her to keep another. She had to admit he certainly couldn’t have trusted her with this. No one could. But why? Why was he doing this? They had just gotten substantial orders, and they had very good prospects now on that government bid. She couldn’t believe he’d pulled the medi
cal insurance. It had to be illegal, she thought, absently crumpling the memo.
“Charity, did you see this?”
Mary shoved the memo under her nose. Charity grimaced. “Yes, I saw it.”
The woman looked scared. “Do you think it’s because of the other night?”
“No!” She gaped at her. “No, I’m sure it’s not. That doesn’t make any sense. Not that this does either.”
“Go talk to him,” Mary said. “He likes you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Charity said quickly.
“Yes, he does. Go talk to him and get him to change his mind.” Tears welled up in Mary’s normally serene eyes. “Charity, I can’t lose my insurance. Bob has heart problems and no company will take us because of his condition.”
Charity cursed loudly, then got up from her desk and headed straight for Jake’s office. She strode right by his secretary, who squawked but couldn’t stop her before she had his door open.
He was sitting at his desk, shoulders bowed, his head braced in his hands. He looked up at her intrusion, and the dismay on his face instantly melted her fury.
“Oh, Jake,” she murmured, shutting the door in his secretary’s face. She walked straight around his desk, all her senses bent on comforting rather than confronting.
“Charity, this is the worst thing I’ve ever had to do.” He gazed up at her, and she saw both frustration and concern in his eyes. “I didn’t want to do it. I argued and argued with those idiots, but they absolutely insisted on cutting the health benefits.”
“The board of directors?” she asked.
“Yes. Mitchelson especially.” Jake’s voice hardened as anger replaced his distress. “He never liked it that I was hired essentially to run the company instead of him. The board hit me with this out of nowhere this morning. They had a meeting last night and Mitchelson ramrodded this through.” He sat back in his chair, leaning his head back, his eyes closed.
Charity didn’t know what to say, but she knew what to do. She stepped closer and slid her arm around his shoulders, urging him toward her, to lean on her. He resisted for a moment, then rested his head against her.
“Jake,” she said gently, “it’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is.” He stiffened, pushing away from her. “I could have done more. I should have done more.”
“You’ve done all you can.” She glanced at the private outside entrance to his office and made a decision. “You’ve had enough today.”
She reached out and pressed the intercom. When his secretary answered, she said, “Mr. Halford is going home for the day. Please call Mr. Ringman and tell him I’ll be out of the office for a while.”
“I ought to work,” Jake said as she straightened.
She snorted in disgust. “Come on, Mr. Macho Man.”
He smiled at her words and got up. She retrieved his suit jacket, then they went out the private door, reaching her car without meeting anyone. Other than giving her directions to his house, he didn’t say another word.
His home was on the outskirts of Milton in an upscale neighborhood. She wasn’t surprised to see that the house was far too large for one person and newly built in a French chateau style. His nearest neighbor was a hundred yards away and hidden behind a natural fencing of pines.
“I had to buy something quick,” he said as they came up the drive. “It’s too big, though.”
“As long as I don’t get lost.”
She watched him carefully as they went inside. He seemed less defeated now that he was home. The house had an empty feeling, no mail tossed on the table, no shoes lying on the floor, no pet running in, not a piece of lint in the place.
“You need some coffee,” she said. “Where’s the kitchen?”
“This way.” He led her down the hall to the back of the house. The kitchen was better, with a cozy breakfast nook and a newspaper sprawled on the tabletop. A beautiful window seat ran under the big back bay window.
She made coffee in silence, allowing him the space he needed. He’d talk to her when he was ready, but if he didn’t, that was okay too. What she wanted him to know was that she was there for him.
Her hand froze as she turned on the burner. She kept trying so hard to keep her emotional distance from him, but once again he’d pierced her barriers. She’d patch up the breeches later, she decided, glancing over at him. He sat on the wide window seat, leaning back against the glass. He still looked bereft, as though he’d lost his best friend. When the coffee was ready, she brought him a cup and sat next to him.
“This is pretty back here,” she said, admiring the patio and boxed garden filled with spring perennials.
He took a gulp of coffee. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I did. And you need a friend right now.”
He sighed. “I do. I’m going to fight this, Charity. The board hired me over Mitchelson’s objections. I think he’s pushed this to show me he’s still in control. I’ll have to show him why I was hired. I’ll get this resolved to everyone’s benefit.”
She smiled. “I have no doubt of that.”
He leaned forward, closing the space between them, and kissed her lightly. She knew it was meant to be kiss of gratitude, but something indefinable passed between them. It was all wrong, but she couldn’t stop it.
He lifted his head and stared at her for a long moment. “I need more than a friend. I need you.”
His mouth claimed hers again.
Seven
Charity’s lips were soft and yielding and exactly what Jake needed. After the battle with the board that morning, he felt almost shattered inside. Only Charity could heal him.
His tongue flicked inside her mouth, circling hers, tasting the slight bitterness of her coffee and her own natural sweetness. He touched her cheek with his free hand, the silky, flawless skin that radiated so much warmth. Her warmth. No other woman could ever do what Charity was doing so naturally now. She was smart, she was beautiful, she was velvet over steel, and she touched something ancient inside him.
His hand threaded through her hair, and he loved the way the strands wrapped around his fingers. The kiss went on and on for endless minutes. His blood quickened, his spirit renewed. He finally eased his mouth from hers and took a deep breath. “I want you, Charity.”
A kaleidoscope of emotions passed across her face. He couldn’t read any of them and that was more scary than an immediate rejection from her.
She sighed and smiled, then took his coffee cup and set both his and hers on the floor. Leaning back against the seat, she slid her hand around his tie and tugged him toward her, whispering, “I’m not going anywhere, Jake.”
His mind reeled with the implications, and he brought his lips back down to hers. The kiss was fierce, their mouths ravenous to taste the other, the long denial over. He pulled her to him, her breasts crushed against his chest. Her arms curved around his shoulders, her fingers raking his back as desire flared hot between them. Her tongue twisted and turned restlessly against his. Her breathing quickened sensuously, the sound blocking out all others to his ears.
He kissed her face, her hair, her throat, taking her in and imprinting every inch of her on his mind. Her fingers clenched and unclenched in his hair. She made little moaning sounds as his hands slipped inside her blouse and his lips found the curve of her breasts above her bra. He pulled the blouse from her skirt, sliding his hand around her waist to the bared flesh of her back. Her skin was cool, yet his palm burned with the touch.
Her fingers fumbled with his tie, pulling it loose, then sliding it out from his collar. She unbuttoned his shirt, her knuckles grazing his chest. Each touch singed him as she pressed her hand against him, teasing the hair on his chest. His breath caught in his lungs at the sensations she caused. He spread quick, nipping kisses over her breasts, finally freeing them with a snap of the bra’s front closure. He pushed the material away and gazed at her in wonder. Her nipples were tight points, beckoning for him to kiss them. He obliged.
&nbs
p; Charity went wild in his arms, her hands pressing his face even more to her satin flesh. He nuzzled first one nipple, then the other, ringing them with his tongue before he took them into his mouth. She was like honey, sweet and nourishing, as generous in her response as he’d known she would be. Every touch, every movement, drove his own need to the point of sanity.
“Charity,” he whispered, pulling away from her breasts to kiss her mouth. He kissed her again … and again.
“Jake.” She ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, pushing the shirt down his arms.
He couldn’t think straight when she was doing that. Yet he knew he had to. “Let’s go upstairs. I can’t … protect you here.”
Charity stilled, realizing what he was talking about. If she ever could stop what was happening between them, it would have to be now. Yet she could no more do that than she could have walked away from him when he had been hurting so badly. His compassion had broken all her resistance in one innocent swoop. He had needed her, needed her intimately, and she couldn’t ever remember a time when a man had been so honest with her. But to go to his bedroom with him … She would be crossing a last indefinable boundary between them. The only way she could still keep a piece of herself for herself was to stay there. Whatever happened afterward to her heart, she would always cherish this.
She drew in a deep, slow breath and whispered, “In my bag.” She sank down onto the window seat, knowing it could accommodate them. The thick cushions supported them. “I keep … protection in there, just in case. I want to be here, Jake, in the sunlight, where it’s warm and good.”
He didn’t bother with any questions. Somehow he found her purse and the small packet inside. He came back to her with a kiss of devastating intensity. They helped each other out of their clothes. When bared flesh touched bared flesh, her moan of satisfaction and hunger matched his. His hands were everywhere, stroking her thighs, her woman’s flesh, their strength tempered with tenderness. The glass was cool against her side, his body hot as he bent over her. She stroked his thighs, delighting in the feel of the rough hair tickling her skin. His mouth was like a blaze on her, igniting her blood until it ran hot and thick through her veins.
