“Oh, yeah?” His voice held a smile, rather than the duress, the torment, of minutes before.
“Hmm,” she concurred, her smile fading when her gaze lifted and latched on to his, the sizzle between them so much deeper than simple attraction. Heat shimmered along her nerve endings, desire pooling deep in her belly.
He picked her up, palms intimately wrapping around her backside. Her hips cradled his, his erection thick, pulsing against her. “I want you to like my body, Jennifer,” he said, his voice low, taut; he nipped her neck. “I need a shower.” He nipped her neck again, then her lips. “Care to join me?”
She curled her fingers together behind his neck. “It’s my shower,” she teased. “I most definitely get to join the hot, naked soldier in it.”
He kissed her then, a fevered frenzy coming over them, and she wasn’t sure they would make it to the shower anytime soon. All that mattered was touching, tasting, feeling.
Until a sudden pounding sounded at the door, jerking their mouths apart. Bobby murmured, “What the—?”
“Jennifer! It’s Marcie. Let me in. It’s raining!”
Jennifer’s eyes went wide, her hands resting on Bobby’s shoulders. “It’s close to midnight. Something must be wrong.”
Bobby set Jennifer down, snagging his shirt and pulling it over his head even as Jennifer jerked the door open.
The rain was coming down in buckets again, and Marcie rushed in the door, dripping wet. “Mark and I broke up,” she sobbed. “The wedding is off!”
“What?!” Jennifer exclaimed.
“The wedding isn’t off, Marcie,” Bobby said calmly. “You’re just upset.”
Marcie nodded. “It’s off. He hates me. We hate each other.” A panicked look flashed across her face as she focused on Bobby. “Uh, I didn’t know you were here. I should have known you’d be here.” She burst into tears, her teeth chattering. “Don’t worry. I’m leaving.” She turned to the door.
“No!” Jennifer and Bobby said at the same time. Bobby quickly pressed his hand to the door. “Stay. I’ll go talk to Mark.”
Marcie whirled around. “It won’t do any good. He hates me, Bobby. He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Bobby assured her.
“He does,” she said, mascara running down her cheeks. “And I’m dripping all over your floor.”
Jennifer knew a hot-bath, glass-of-wine crisis when she saw one. “I’ll get a towel,” she said and started to turn away before adding, “And you and Mark are going to make up, Marcie. You watch and see.”
“We won’t,” Marcie insisted. “You don’t know how bad it is.”
Jennifer had a good idea. She’d seen them fighting. But she didn’t comment, not about to make matters worse.
“You’ve been trying to push him away, Marcie,” Bobby said as Jennifer walked toward the hall closet, silently agreeing with his assessment.
Jennifer started a hot bath with bubbles and then rushed back to Marcie with a big, fluffy towel in hand but stopped at the edge of the hallway as she heard what Marcie was saying.
“And you’re any better, Bobby?” Marcie demanded. “You ran away so Jennifer wouldn’t push you away when you became like your father. Well…I can’t have kids. Mark can never be a father if he marries me. I thought I could deal with that, but he’s going to resent me down the road.”
“So that’s it?” Bobby challenged. “You’re trying to make him hate you now, because you think he’ll hate you later?”
“No,” she said. “No, I… He says it doesn’t matter. But what’s he supposed to say?”
“He’d find a reason to walk away if he wanted to walk away,” Bobby replied.
Jennifer felt as if she’d been slugged in the chest. Bobby had found his reason to leave.
“Do you love him?” Bobby asked.
“Yes,” Marcie said. “I love him.”
“Then why can’t you just let him love you?”
She started bawling again. “Because I’m scared, Bobby.”
Jennifer had heard enough and rounded the corner, expecting to go to Marcie’s rescue. Instead, she found Bobby pulling a dripping-wet Marcie into his arms and hugging her, a big brother taking care of his little sister. Bobby looked up and his gaze captured Jennifer’s. “Then do what I didn’t,” he said. “Tell him you’re scared. Let him help you.”
Jennifer sucked in a shaky breath, feeling his words clear to her soul. He was talking to her. He was telling her he’d been scared. Telling her he was still scared.
“I don’t know how,” Marcie said, grabbing Bobby’s arms and pleading. “Will you talk to him? He’s so mad. I don’t know what to say, and I know you don’t know him well, but—”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“Now?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes,” he said. “Now.”
Jennifer stepped forward and wrapped Marcie in the towel. “To the bathroom and get in that hot tub. I even put some of that calming eucalyptus in the water you gave me on my birthday. I’ll bring you wine and we’ll talk.”
Marcie nodded and headed to the bath.
Bobby made sure he had Jennifer’s cell programmed properly into his phone. They stood toe to toe, the silent, unspoken words wrapping them with a mixture of hot sun and cold winter snow, too complex and textured to touch on now.
“Thank you for doing this,” Jennifer said. “I know you haven’t slept.”
“I’m not worried about sleep,” he said. “I’m worried about Marcie and Mark working this out before their wedding.”
“Yes,” she said, her hand resting on his chest. There was so much she wanted to say. “You’ll come back?”
He scooped her into his arms and kissed her. “I’m not going anywhere this time, Jennifer.” His lips brushed hers and then he was gone.
Jennifer stood there, stunned. Confused. He was leaving. He was staying. He was up for reenlistment, but obviously, clearly after today, a soldier. He wore the title well, wore it with honor.
Jennifer’s cell phone started ringing, startling her into action. She rushed forward, to the table where she’d set her purse. Marcie appeared in the hallway, still fully dressed, a hopeful look on her face that had Jennifer saying, “It’s probably Mark, worried about you.”
“Don’t answer it if it is,” she said. “He doesn’t want to marry me, he doesn’t deserve to know where I’m at.”
Jennifer blinked in confusion. “You just asked Bobby to go talk to him.”
“I know, but…” Marcie pressed her palm to her forehead. “I don’t know anymore.”
Jennifer grabbed her purse on the hall table and checked caller ID on her phone. “It’s him,” she said.
“He doesn’t want to marry me, Jen,” Marcie said, mascara dropping down her cheeks.
“He wants to marry you,” Jennifer said. “This is just cold feet before the wedding.” The phone stopped ringing.
“See!” Marcie said. “He already gave up.”
“It’s Saturday night,” Jennifer said. “And mark my words, by next Sunday night, you will be a married woman enjoying the first day of her honeymoon.” The phone started ringing again and she answered it.
“Is she there?” Mark asked, his voice steely hard.
“Yes.”
“That’s all I wanted to know,” he said and hung up.
Jennifer pulled the phone from her ear, stunned by Mark’s abruptness.
“He didn’t even ask to speak to me?” Marcie asked, her face already crinkling.
“You didn’t want to talk to him,” Jennifer said, trying to talk her way out of this. Marcie burst into tears.
It was a good while later when Jennifer managed to bundle Marcie up in silk pajamas. They sat on the bed and talked.
“Everything was perfect until we decided to get married,” she said. “Now it’s a mess.” She sipped her wine and set it on the nightstand. “If I need to stay here until I find a place, you won’t mind, right?”
“You won�
�t need a place to stay,” Jennifer told her, “but, of course.” She took Marcie’s hand. “It’s going to work out.”
Marcie studied her. “It didn’t for you and Bobby,” she said. “And you wanted it to. You still do. But it won’t happen. You know why? The same reason Bobby and I are friends. Because we both have enough baggage to sink a warship. We aren’t the forever kind of people. You and Mark picked wrong. There is no happy ending.”
Jennifer had a moment of clarity. She’d spent seven years looking for an ending. Bobby had run from an ending. Marcie was running from an ending. She reached out and took Marcie’s hand. “Love doesn’t have an ending,” Jennifer said. “We both need to stop trying to find one.”
She loved Bobby. She would always love Bobby. Closure didn’t mean she stopped loving him. In fact, it meant she’d stopped denying she loved him. It meant she had to figure out what kind of spot that love filled in her life.
THE RAIN HAD, AT LEAST, temporarily stopped, the moon peeking through a tunnel of clouds, but not a star could be seen. Nor was there a light to be found in Mark and Marcie’s house when Bobby pulled into the driveway and parked behind Mark’s truck. It was a bad sign. Bobby ground his teeth and climbed out of the car. Either Mark was gone, probably drinking off his troubles with the guys—trouble waiting to happen. Or Mark was in bed asleep, unaffected by his fight with Marcie—bigger trouble. As in the kind that meant the wedding was really off.
Bobby started up the stairs when Mark leaned forward in a deck chair, the moon illuminating shadowy features. “I see she sent in reinforcements,” Mark said. “Save your breath. I’m done. Marrying me is supposed to be making Marcie happy. I’ve never seen her so miserable. And don’t tell me it’s nerves. It’s more than that.”
Bobby sat down on the steps, not worried about the wet concrete, considering he had been dried and drenched several times over that day. “She thinks you hate her. She thinks you don’t want to marry her.”
“I love her, man,” he said. “I love her so much it hurts. But she can’t have babies, and she thinks that is somehow going to destroy my life. I told her we’d get a dog. Heck, if that doesn’t satisfy the paternal instinct, we’ll get a cat, too. We’ll flipping adopt, if necessary. But she can’t get over this. Or maybe she doesn’t want to get over it. I pressured her into setting a date, into putting the baby thing aside. Well, no more pressure. Like I said. I’m done. I get that I’m not important enough to her to get by this thing. That I’m not ‘the guy’ or we’d fight this battle together. I have to let her go so she can find the person who is ‘the guy.’ I love her enough to know I have to let her go so she can find that person.”
No more pressure. That was what Jennifer had said to him. Mark believed Marcie didn’t love him enough to overcome her fears. Mark planned to let Marcie go. Just as Jennifer planned to let him go, unless Bobby convinced her otherwise.
15
IT WAS THREE in the morning now, officially, and Jennifer was so darn glad her clinic was closed for the day. She and Marcie had been sitting at Jennifer’s glossy mahogany kitchen table, talking, for hours, coffee mugs and their second bag of chocolate kisses—Jennifer had snuck them for herself from the party supplies—sitting between them.
“I’m convinced,” Jennifer moaned, shoving her cup away, “whoever said chocolate cures all didn’t eat a bag and a half of kisses and drink three cups of hot chocolate. Thankfully, we put our loose-fitting sweats on. I need breathing room.”
“Wimp,” Marcie said, unwrapping another candy.
“What happened to herbal tea and granola?” Jennifer asked.
“They help maintain a healthy life,” Marcie said, holding up her now bare-naked, ready-to-eat, chocolate kiss. “But chocolate heals the soul and the soul is the window to everything else.” She popped the candy into her mouth.
“Unless you get sick first,” Jennifer said. “Which apparently would be appropriate in my case because my soul doesn’t feel one bit healed and my stomach is pretty angry about the situation.”
Marcie pushed the candy bag in Jennifer’s direction. “I was sick ten kisses ago. Eat more. It gets better.”
“No, thank you,” Jennifer said emphatically. “No more for me.”
Marcie stared at her, the somber look slipping back across her features. “You should call Bobby,” Marcie suggested. “He’s been gone a long time.”
“Let them have their guy time, Marcie,” she urged gently as she had several times already.
“What if Bobby hasn’t even found Mark?” Marcie said. “Maybe he’s looking for him and doesn’t want me to know. What if Mark is off at some bar hanging all over some new woman? What if—”
“Marcie,” Jennifer interrupted. “Don’t. Stop. You’re making yourself crazy. Imagining things that just aren’t so. Mark loves you.”
“Yeah, well, you and Bobby are living proof sometimes love isn’t enough.”
Jennifer flinched as if slapped. “That was low.”
“Oh, no,” Marcie said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be thoughtless. I didn’t mean it as an insult at all. Just the opposite. I know how much you and Bobby love each other and still you’ve been apart the past seven years. Love doesn’t necessarily remove all obstacles. I know you know that. Love isn’t the easy answer.”
Jennifer grabbed a chocolate. Suddenly, her stomach didn’t hurt as much as her soul needed healing. “Maybe you should just have sex with Mark,” she suggested dryly. “Isn’t that what you suggested I do with Bobby?”
“I do have sex with Mark,” she assured Jennifer. “You weren’t having sex with Bobby. There’s a difference.” She picked up Julie and hugged her. “I love this cat. She is so sweet.”
Jennifer might have agreed but the chocolate hit her stomach hard. “Okay, for the record. Sex hasn’t solved anything. Chocolate makes me sick. Love isn’t always enough. I’m not sure where that leaves either of us. I don’t know what to do, Marcie.”
A knock sounded on the door. “You get it!” Marcie whispered, scrambling wildly to fix her hair and straighten in her chair. “That’s what you do.” She waved Jennifer on. “Hurry!”
“I’m trying,” Jennifer said, unfolding her legs from where she’d tucked them beneath her and rushing to the door about the time she heard, “Jen, it’s Bobby.”
She yanked the door open, to find him clean-shaven and showered, the spicy scent uniquely him, making her wonder how she ever thought chocolate held a candle to sex—at least, sex with Bobby. The rain had stopped and he was dry, but his eyes were weary, heavy-lidded. Even the macho hot soldier couldn’t hide his exhaustion.
“Come in,” she urged for the second time in a night.
He took a step forward and passed her and, to Jennifer’s surprise, Mark followed. “Mark!” Marcie yelled and charged forward into his arms, all but knocking Jennifer and Bobby into the wall.
Mark kissed Marcie, long and hard, and then they disappeared into the bedroom. Jennifer’s bedroom. “That went better than expected,” Bobby said, chuckling as he pulled her off the wall where she’d leaned to avoid collision. He directed her toward the living room.
“At least until the chocolate and sex wears off,”
Jennifer said skeptically.
Bobby sat down on the couch and took her with him. “Why did you say that like chocolate and sex were bad things? I think we’ve proven otherwise.” He tugged off his boots.
“The chocolate and sex are great,” she agreed. “But when they’re done, when it’s over—then what?”
“They’ll figure it out,” he said, and then pulled Jennifer and the blanket down on top of him as he lay on his back, head on the pillow cushion. “Just like we will.”
He molded her close and she settled against him. The effect was warm and intimate. “Until you leave again.”
“Why would I leave, Jen?” he asked softly. “I finally came home.”
She lifted her head at that, opening her mouth to ask what that meant but his eyes we
re shut, his lips hinting at a satisfied smile. Slowly, she slid back down, resting her head on his chest, letting his heartbeat thrum beneath her palm. His strong shoulder cradled her head. Her lashes lowered, and she, too, felt the hint of a smile on her lips as she drifted off to sleep.
BOBBY WOKE TO THE SOUND OF whispers, male and female. He blinked awake, sunlight piercing a line through the curtains, the clock reading nine o’clock. Awareness rushed through him as he felt the sweet warmth of Jennifer resting in his arms, a smile touching his lips as he realized her cat, Julie, was on top of his legs. They’d left Mark and Marcie in the bedroom to talk things out and fallen asleep on the couch. This was a little slice of heaven. This was how he wanted to wake up every day of his life for the rest of his life. He wasn’t sure what that meant—he only knew that this was why’d held off on reenlistment. He needed more than duty in his life.
Jennifer lifted her head and turned to look over the edge of the couch. Marcie and Mark were tiptoeing toward the door. “Does this mean I still have to wear the lime dress?” Jennifer asked.
Marcie huffed, no longer whispering, “It’s yellow—”
“Green,” Jennifer finished. “I know. Which isn’t a real color by the way—but are you two happy now and I get to wear the yellow-green dress?”
“Yes,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around Marcie from behind. “You are most definitely wearing the dress. And if you’ll excuse us, I’m taking my soon-to-be wife home. Oh, and no skydiving for me. You two are on your own today.”
Marcie smiled and turned to Mark, planting a kiss on him before they left. The door shut and Jennifer settled down on the couch, resting on one elbow, her hand on Bobby’s cheek. “Whatever you said to Mark seemed to work. I just hope the baby thing doesn’t become an issue in the future.”
Julie stretched and walked over the top of Bobby before plopping down on his stomach.
Jennifer laughed and picked her up, cuddling her and then setting her on the ground. “She likes you.”
“I like her, too,” he said, reaching down and stroking Julie’s back a moment before leaving the cat to its own entertainment as an idea came to him. He slid his hand behind his head and propped it up. “I know how to solve the baby problem for Marcie and Mark.”
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