by Laura Taylor
11
Following a long and lonely night, Jessica threw herself into the task of creating some semblance of order in the aftermath of the destructive tornadoes. Although unable to personally telephone the guests with reservations for the upcoming season—she hadn’t yet rescued her cell phone—she prepared and sent an email that explained the destruction to the resort, offered to refund all deposits, and promised news of their reopening once repairs had been accomplished.
She then sent off an email to her insurance company, and a claim rep arrived five hours later. She felt assured by his comments before he departed that Cleary House Inn and Resort would be fully restored. Old Doc Willoughby, his own home and acreage untouched by Mother Nature, drove her into town so that she could purchase groceries. Because of the widespread damage to the area, she discovered that she couldn’t hire anyone for several weeks to clear away the wreckage that now covered her lakefront acreage.
Returning to the inn, Jessica tried not to dwell on Dev and how much she missed him. She failed, so she forced herself to concentrate on the myriad housekeeping tasks she could handle on her own in the interior rooms of the inn.
Sergeant Higgins and several of his friends arrived without warning three days following Dev’s departure. Armed with power saws and obvious goodwill, they handed Jessica a communiqué sent in care of the USMC recruiting office in Little Rock, which read, "Dave escaped prison. Alive and well. Will be in touch very soon. Marines ready to help you in my stead. Love, D."
Higgins and his crew of young, brawny Marines spent the weekend clearing the oak trees from the driveway, and they provided Jessica with what appeared at first glance to be a lifetime supply of firewood. Although amazed by their willingness to help someone they didn’t know, she deeply appreciated their efforts and companionship. She prepared copious amounts of food to fuel their hard work, and she gave each man a certificate for free weekend accommodations and full use of the facilities once the resort reopened later in the year.
The morning after their departure she poured her first cup of coffee of the day and glanced at the mail stacked on the kitchen counter. She almost dropped the coffeepot when the house phone unexpectedly rang.
"Please let this be Dev," she whispered as she reached for the telephone that had been silent since the night of the tornado. "Cleary House Inn and Resort. How may I help you?"
"Is that you, dear?"
She quelled her disappointment as best she could before responding to the caller’s query with an upbeat tone of voice. "Hi, Mom. How’s your vacation?"
"Very exciting!" the older woman exclaimed. "Although from what Devlin told me when he called, and from the newspaper accounts I’ve read in the last few days, it’s obvious you two have had yourselves an exciting time, too."
"He referred to it as a roller coaster ride, and I’m inclined to agree with him."
"You weren’t hurt, were you?"
"No, Mom." If you don’t count my dented heart, she thought. "I’m in one piece, but we’ve had some pretty extensive damage. I don’t think we’ll be able to reopen the resort for several months, perhaps not until late Fall."
Monica resumed speaking, but all Jessica heard for the next thirty seconds was the sound of static cluttering the telephone line.
"… naturally I’m very concerned. Should I come home?"
"There’s really no point. I’ve got everything under control," she assured her mother. "Why don’t you stay put and enjoy yourself? You’ve earned this vacation. In fact, if you get the urge to extend it, you might as well."
"My trip has turned into much more than a vacation."
"I don’t understand."
"I’ve gotten married. Hal wouldn’t let me put him off any longer, and we’re officially on our honeymoon."
Stunned, she said, "Hal Perkins? Dad’s old friend from the Air Force Academy who looked you up last year?"
"Yes, Jessica. We’ve been corresponding, as you know. Hal flew down to the Caribbean to surprise me. When we realized just how much we cared about each other, we didn’t want to wait."
She asked the question uppermost in her mind. "Are you happy now, Mom?"
"Very happy. In fact, I believe that I’m more happy than I ever imagined possible." Monica’s laughter preceded her question, "Do you mind that I’ve behaved so impulsively?"
Jessica understood her mother’s personality well enough to realize that the older woman wanted her daughter’s approval. She willingly gave it. "Of course I don’t mind, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. You just surprised me, that’s all."
"You don’t need me any longer, Jessica. Devlin’s back in your life. You love him, and I know he loves you. Let go of the past, darling, and don’t be afraid of marrying a pilot. He’s such a fine man. Together, you’ll have a good life. Maybe now you’ll give me the grandchildren I’ve always wanted."
Too stunned to speak, Jessica clutched the phone and wondered how she’d missed the changes that had obviously taken place in her mother in recent years.
"Is he still there with you?"
She forced herself to answer. "No. He had to return to Washington."
"He’ll come back for you, dear."
Desperate to change the subject, she said, "I’ve notified our guests about the tornado damage."
"If you avoid talking about Devlin, I’ll worry about you. And if Hal sees me worrying, he’ll bring me home."
The thought of dealing with newlyweds prompted Jessica to lighten her tone of voice even more. "There’s really no need to worry or to rush home. I’m fine, and I’m staying very busy, of course."
"Jessica, you aren’t fine. You always use the words staying very busy when you’re drowning in unhappiness. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I really began to understand what you meant and just how much you’ve sacrificed for me."
"I haven’t…"
"Yes, you have," Monica said with a firmness Jessica found startling. "Your reaction to Devlin when you first saw him told me something I should have realized long ago. You’ve given up your happiness for my sake, but you don’t need to do that any longer."
"Maybe we should save this conversation for later," she suggested.
The older woman ignored her comment. "You’re free, Jessica. Make the most of it before it’s too late. I almost let a second chance for happiness pass me by, and I don’t want you to make that kind of a mistake."
"Mom, I’ll think about what you’ve said," she promised quietly.
"See that you do. I love you, darling, and I’ll be in touch again next week. If you need anything, you know how and where to reach us." Monica paused, and then she said, "Hal and I are not old, dear, and we can manage Cleary House if you decide to make different plans for your life."
"Bye, Mom," a shocked Jessica whispered a few moments later. She stared at the phone, her mind reeling as she grappled with the conversation that had just taken place.
Devlin loves you.
You have a second chance for happiness.
You’re free, Jessica.
Whether trying to exhaust herself with hard work or tossing restlessly in her bed each night, Jessica kept hearing her mother’s words as the week unfolded. Torn between her love for Dev and her apprehension that she might have inherited Monica’s emotional and psychological frailties, she struggled to sort through her emotions.
** ** **
Jessica retreated to her bedroom late one night several days later, showered, and then crawled naked into her bed. She’d reflected long and hard on both the past and the future since her mother’s phone call. Part of those reflections included a time when she’d considered asking Dev to abandon his career as a pilot in order to satisfy her youthful insecurities. What a fool she’d been!
Like her late father, Devlin Mackenzie symbolized the warriors who embraced the challenges and risks of their professions with skill and dedication. Now, she longed for a chance to be an equal partner in his world, a warrior’s woman, in spite of t
he hazards entailed in such a role. Her much younger self had feared failing in that role, but now she felt a profound sense of certainty that she could succeed if given the opportunity.
She loved Dev far too much not to try, but first he needed—no, he deserved—an explanation of the emotional tightrope she’d walked for so many years.
Jessica eventually drifted off to sleep. As she surrendered to both emotional and physical fatigue, she prayed that Dev would not reject her when he learned the truth.
** ** **
Dev returned to Cleary House later that same night. He quietly entered the inn, made his way up to Jessica’s third floor apartment, and paused in the doorway to study her sleeping form. The glowing embers in the fireplace cast a gentle illumination across the room. With his gaze riveted on her, he stepped out of his boots, shed his clothes, and draped them across a nearby chair.
Sprawled on her back, she murmured his name and then pushed aside the sheet that covered her body. The sight of her naked beauty made his breath catch. Dev ground his teeth to still the groan rising like a consuming tide within him, but the raw desire coursing through his bloodstream mocked his attempts at control.
He paused at the foot of her bed, cautioning himself not to take Jessica too quickly. He intended a languorous joining of hearts and bodies so that she would finally understand that he cherished her above all else in his life. He wanted her to fully grasp the depth of his love for her. It was all he’d thought about during their time apart.
As he stood there, his gaze locked on the pale beauty of her skin, her hourglass–shaped body, and the cloud of midnight hair that framed her face and spilled across her pillow, he considered yet again the lonely hell they’d both endured during the preceding ten years.
Never again would they live separate lives. Never again, he silently vowed.
Dev slowly sank to his knees between her parted ankles. With an almost reverent touch, he stroked the silken skin of her slender legs with unsteady hands, and he promised himself that he would find a way to make up for every moment that had been lost to them.
Tracing the smoothness of her limbs with callused fingertips, he stroked his way up the endless length of her legs. Moments later, he traveled the same path with his lips and the tip of his tongue, finally reaching the tops of her thighs.
Jessica groaned low in her throat as he cupped her hips and settled between her thighs. He recognized the sound as an expression of her awakening desire even as his mouth settled over her. Sliding two fingers into the sultry, silk–covered depths of her core, he stroked and suckled her flesh with stunning tenderness.
The heat emanating from her spurred him on, as did the sound of his name spilling repeatedly from her lips. The desire to plunge deep into her body and bury himself within her scorching heat thrived within him until he could think of nothing else.
Dev failed to quell the shudders of hunger that rippled through his body, and a profound sense of urgency—a driving need to mate with her—taunted and tested his flagging control.
Unable to restrain himself, he loomed over her and slipped into the tight, hot depths of her passion–flushed body. He felt her shift her hips to accommodate his strength and size. Her hands slid restlessly over his back and hips in the moments before he thrust deeply, and then deeper still, sinking, melting, and dying a little from the pleasure.
"I’ve missed you," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck and urged him closer.
He moved within her, evoking a long, low, and profanely seductive sound from her lips.
"Not nearly as much as I’ve missed you, Jessie love."
She responded instantly, coming alive beneath him, moving under and around him, driving him steadily and purposefully to the brink with her undulating body until he clasped her hips and slowed her pace.
"Not fair," she gasped against his lips.
"No one ever said love and war were fair."
"Does this mean you’re here to conquer me?"
He smiled, his hard features gentled by the vulnerability of his emotions. "You know why I’m here."
"I want you, Dev. I need you so much," she said, arching up into him and devastating his control yet again.
She strained beneath him, and he responded in spite of his vow to go slowly with her. She reminded him of a writhing streak of flame intent on turning him to ash with the combustibility of her passion.
The sudden, shattering start of her climax caused him to fall victim to the totality of her body’s quest for release. He surged into her, so deeply that he felt the flex and flow of her inner muscles as her body clasped his hard length. And even as he drove her into an extended, breath–robbing release, he felt her counter his thrusts with her own, and he groaned in surprise as an urgent inner force hurled him into the arms of ecstasy.
Even after it ended, he found he couldn’t bear to leave the sanctuary he’d found within her. Their bodies joined, he rolled them to one side so that he wouldn’t crush her with his weight.
She lazily smoothed her fingertips over his shoulders as she kissed his chin. "I was dreaming about you."
Dev claimed her lips for a quick, hot kiss. "Something shamefully erotic, I suspect."
She grinned. "All my dreams of you are erotic."
"It’s been a long week."
"Nine days," she corrected. "You didn’t call."
Reaching over to the night table lamp, he switched it on without parting their bodies. "Didn’t you get my emails?"
"I would have preferred the sound of your voice."
"I hoped you’d miss me."
Her expression grew serious. "I did. Very much." Reaching for the sheet, she tugged it up to their hips. "Is your friend alright?"
Although he’d anticipated her curiosity, he hadn’t expected it quite so soon. "He’s in surprisingly good shape, although he has lost a lot of weight."
"Was he injured?"
"Not when he bailed out."
"After?"
"He had some pretty tough sessions with the prison interrogators. Torture is common in that part of the world."
"And public executions. Is that why you stayed away so long? To help him adjust to being free?"
"Partially." Dev slowly smoothed his hand over her sheet–draped hip before admitting, "The medical types and the shrinks wanted to check me over, too. It took longer than I expected."
"You’re alright?"
"I’m fine. No worries there."
"Will Dave be able to resume flying?"
"Once he rests up, gains back some of the weight he’s lost, spends some time with the shrinks, and receives clearance from the Flight Surgeon." Dev chuckled. "He had an unexpected cellmate. Actually, they were in adjacent cells."
"Another pilot?"
"No. A woman. An aid worker with an outfit called Child Feed that’s headquartered in San Diego. He fell in love with her, and now he’s afraid to go see her."
"Does she love him?"
"Apparently she said she did, but he doesn’t think she can be sure of her real feelings until her life settles down. I think he’s trying to protect her. They both had a rough time with the interrogators in prison, and he doesn’t want her to feel pressured."
"Leave it to a man to twist things around and complicate a situation," she observed, and then she remembered how badly she’d botched their lives in her effort to protect Dev. "Is he going to see her?"
"That was my question. He hemmed and hawed, but I think he will. He wants to be sure of his own emotions, too. His first marriage was a train wreck in the extremis. His ex–wife couldn’t hack the moving around every few years, and she played around with other guys. Dave has a hard time trusting the motives of the fairer sex."
"And what did you advise, Dear Abby?" she teased, but her attempt at humor sounded faintly bitter.
"I told him to go for it." Dev studied her through narrowed, piercing eyes. "There’s no sense in pining away indefinitely when you know exactly what you want and where to fi
nd it, is there?"
Jessica shifted her gaze. Focusing on the fireplace on the far side of the bedroom, she studied the red glow of a few remaining embers. "You’re back on flying status, aren’t you?" she asked.
"You’re not very subtle, you know."
"I wasn’t trying to be."
"I’m officially back on flying status," he confirmed.
Something in his tone of voice troubled her. She met his gaze. "What’s wrong?"
"If you can’t live with my flying, Jessie, I’ll find a way to live without it."
"I can’t and won’t ask that of you," she said, taken aback by his offer. "Not ever. I thought I wanted you to give it up a long time ago, but it was an insane thing to even suggest." She flipped back the sheet.
Dev caught her before she could move and pinned her to the mattress with his body. "You aren’t asking, but I’m still offering. I love you enough to walk away from the flying if you can’t handle being married to a pilot."
When she squirmed to free herself, he shifted off of her and rolled onto his back. She pulled herself up to a seated position in the center of the bed, the sheet that had covered them now puddled at her hips.
"You don’t understand, Dev. Your being a pilot isn’t the issue. I guess if I’m really going to be honest, it never was."
"It was part of the issue ten years ago," he reminded her. "Or was that just a smoke screen you used because you didn’t love me enough to be my wife?"
For a moment she felt too stunned to speak. He shifted position in the blink of an eye, and he wound up seated opposite her in the center of the bed. She fastened her gaze on his face and kept it there, despite the barely contained fury she saw in his expression and his hard grip on her wrists.
"Talk to me, damn it," he ordered. "You’ve just shoved me into another swamp, and I want answers before I step on any alligators."
"I can handle your career because it’s what you do," she said. "Just as writing under a pseudonym is what I do. We all have something unique that drives us. I know your career means the world to you. I’d sooner stop eating than stop writing. If you asked me or expected me to give up my writing, I’d tell you to take a flying leap straight into hell. You have the same right. So do not even consider giving up your dream for me or anyone else, because that’s what flying has always been for you… the realization of your dreams."
