“Celia told me she decided to leave after Leslie was born,” she said carefully.
“Yes.” For a moment he was silent and she thought he would say nothing more. Then he cleared his throat and began to speak, all the while staring at his shoes.
“She said she didn’t want a damaged child.” He laughed, the sound bitter. “She acted as if Leslie was a malfunctioning appliance she could take back to the store and get her money back. Unfortunately, children don’t come with guarantees.”
“That must have been so hard for you,” she said when he grew quiet again.
“Yeah.” He glanced briefly at her. “The worst was when they told me Leslie had to have heart surgery. She was only a few days old and they had to cut her open.”
She could only imagine how awful that must have been. She didn’t know how she would have coped if Rebecca had been sick like that.
“I had all these plans for my kid,” he said. “I built this fantasy in my head about what my child would be like, what he or she would do. I thought if it was a boy I’d take him fishing in the summer and we’d ride horses together. I’d teach him how to skate and he’d play hockey. Or if it was a girl, she’d be a ballerina. Everyone would tell me how pretty she was and how talented.”
He paused and clasped his hands together. “When Leslie was born, all those dreams disappeared. All I wanted was for my child to survive. And now I want her to be happy, to be everything she can be.”
“The school here in Paradise,” she said cautiously, “is it giving her everything she needs? It’s a pretty small school with a limited budget. I’ve heard of more specialized schools in the city that have programs for kids with Down syndrome.”
He began shaking his head even before she finished speaking, his face set in stubborn lines. “Leslie has everything she needs right here. A family that loves her is the most important thing for her.”
She thought of arguing the point. She considered telling him about the day and weekend programs and summer camps she’d discovered in her internet search. She wasn’t asking him to send Leslie away to some institution; she just wanted her to learn to be more self-confident and reliant. She could meet other kids like her, learn new skills and have a lot of fun. But Jack obviously didn’t want to hear about special programs, at least not today.
“What about teaching Leslie to ride on her own, without someone leading her pony and steadying her in the saddle? She’d be thrilled to ride Molly by herself.”
Again he shook his head. “Leslie’s not coordinated enough to ride on her own. I know what’s best for my daughter.”
Bridget sighed in frustration. He didn’t want to hear about alternatives for Leslie, at least not from her. It wasn’t like she had any say in his daughter’s upbringing.
After a moment of silence, he got to his feet and gathered their empty coffee cups.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off as needing or wanting pity. And I certainly don’t mean to imply that I’m sorry about Leslie. I’m proud of my daughter.” His expression dared her to say otherwise.
She rose as well. “You should be. She’s a great kid.”
“Thanks. I appreciate you saying that.”
“Why? It’s just the truth.”
He put his free hand on her waist and pulled her close. His eyes grew hot with desire as he looked into her face. She shivered. Just one touch from him caused a firestorm of longing inside her heart, and her body. He touched his lips to hers, and she stepped closer, pressing herself against him.
“Mom?”
They broke apart immediately at the sound of Rebecca’s voice. She stood in the doorway of the family room, a look of confusion on her face.
“I finished my homework.”
“Okay, honey. Pack up your things and we’ll get ready to go home.” She wondered how much Rebecca had seen.
“Okay.” With one last worried look at them, Rebecca turned and went back into the kitchen.
“She doesn’t know about us, does she?” Jack said.
“That we slept together? That’s hardly something I’m going to share with my fifteen-year-old.”
“You know what I mean. Rebecca believes you and her dad will get back together if you move back to San Francisco. Actually, she said ‘when’ you move to San Francisco.” He paused, his expression unreadable. “Are you still planning to go back?”
She thought about skating around the truth and then decided that he deserved an honest answer. “That was our original intention. We were just going to stay here long enough for me to get back on my feet financially. It was going to be temporary because that was the only way I could convince Rebecca to move. And quite honestly I thought I’d go insane after a few months in Paradise. But now...”
“But now what?”
“I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here. For the first time, I have a real relationship with my sister and I don’t want to lose that. I’m excited about the business Tina and I just started. And then there’s you.”
“You know I can’t make you any promises,” he warned.
He’d made that abundantly clear from the beginning. “I know. But I think I’d like to enjoy the ride for a while.”
He smiled, his teeth flashing white in the dimly lit room. “Yeah, I think I’d like that too.”
“I’d better get Rebecca home.”
He took her hand before she could leave. “Gladys is off tomorrow morning and the girls are at school. Can you slip away from the bar for a couple of hours?”
She nodded, her heart racing. It was the first time he’d asked her to come to his house, just for him. It felt like they’d both come to a momentous decision. “I’ll be here around ten.”
A few minutes later, she and Rebecca were in the car. She’d expected Rebecca to pummel her with questions about her relationship with Jack on the drive home. But Rebecca remained silent, which was much worse. She didn’t want her daughter to clam up again, not when she’d finally started opening up.
Did Rebecca honestly think she and Ben would get back together again? It was probably her fault that she clung to this illusion. She’d done everything she could to shield her from learning the truth about her father’s affair and his lack of interest in either of them. In the last year, she’d gone so far as to buy gifts for Rebecca and pretend they’d come from Ben, just so she wouldn’t think he’d forgotten her.
She’d already told Rebecca there was no chance for a reconciliation with her father. How did she get her to believe it?
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning Bridget hurried through her chores in the bar and the motel, stripping the bedding in two of the motel rooms in record time. As soon as she finished, she slipped out the back door of the restaurant and into her waiting car.
When she arrived at Jack’s ranch, she was relieved to see that Dallas Green had already left for the day and Gladys hadn’t yet arrived. She parked her car around the side of the house where it couldn’t be seen from the main road, and then hurried into the house.
Jack answered her knock immediately, pulling her into the house without a word. He slammed shut the back door and pressed her against it, covering her mouth with a hungry, demanding kiss. She moaned and responded with a kiss as hungry as his. It had been a couple of weeks since they’d been together and her body ached for him.
Jack pulled at her jacket. “I need to feel you.”
She laughed as she unzipped her jacket and shrugged it off. “I’m working as fast as I can.”
“Not fast enough.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs and into his room. Once there, he closed the door and started pulling her sweater over her head. When he’d removed the sweater to reveal the bra underneath, he went suddenly still and then emitted a low whistle.
“Wow.”
She smiled. “You like?”
“What’s not to like?” He ran one finger under the strap of her red satin bra. “A beautiful woman wearing sexy underw
ear. I’m all for that.”
“And you’ve only seen half of the ensemble.”
“You mean there’s more?”
“Oh yeah.” She unfastened her jeans, enjoying the way he watched her every move. “I decided to give the white cotton granny panties the boot.”
He took a ragged breath. “Did you?”
“Mmm.” Pushing her jeans past her hips, she let them fall to the floor. She stood before him in only her bra and matching red satin panties. “What do you think? Good investment?”
“I don’t know,” he said reaching for her. “Seems like a waste to spend all that money on something I’m just going to rip off you.”
“Don’t you dare rip my new underwear!” She scooted around to the other side of the bed, laughing. “Let’s be civilized about this.”
“Civilized? Are you kidding?” He jumped across the bed, capturing her in his arms. “I’ve had a permanent hard-on since the last time we were together. If I don’t take you soon, I might do serious injury to myself.”
She wound her arms around his neck. “We can’t have that. You don’t need to be gentle with me, just my underwear.”
He grinned and gave her a kiss. “It’s a deal.”
He carefully unhooked her bra and slid it off her shoulders, laying it gently on the night table. Then he kissed his way down her chest, her breasts and across her stomach, dropping to his knees in front of her. Pulling down the scrap of red satin to reveal the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs, he leaned forward to place a kiss there. She clutched at his shoulders and moaned.
“Jack, oh God!”
He flicked his tongue inside and around her most sensitive spot, wrenching exquisite sensations from her. She pushed his head closer, wanting, needing him. The pressure began to build inside her until she suddenly exploded. Only Jack’s strong arms kept her from toppling over.
When the tremors stopped, he got quickly to his feet and stripped off his clothes. She collapsed onto the bed, her knees too weak to support her any longer. Jack reached for her hand.
“Not the bed, sweetheart. Not this time.”
She let him lead her across the room with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. But she trusted him completely. Whatever he had planned, she knew he would never hurt her.
He pushed her against a wall and kissed her, his tongue hot and wet as it plunged into her mouth. She loved the taste of him, a combination of coffee with sugar and mint toothpaste. His scent filled her head with a heady mixture of spicy aftershave and the cold outdoors. His penis pushed against her stomach, and suddenly nothing else mattered but that he was inside her, and quickly.
“Jack, please,” she whispered.
“I need to protect you, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”
It took only a few seconds for him to sheath himself, but it seemed ages to Bridget. She sighed in relief when he returned to her. Placing his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her. With two fingers, she guided him inside. He filled her completely, pushing at all her boundaries. It felt almost as if he could break right through her. The thought was frightening and exhilarating. Instinct made her wrap her legs tightly around his waist.
He braced himself, pushing her against the wall. With each thrust, he seemed to go deeper inside her. She madly pushed back, their frenzied coupling building to a crescendo. A moment later he cried out his release. She followed him into the abyss, descending into a vortex of sensation where only he existed. She clung blindly to him as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her.
Finally the spasms ended and he carried her to the bed, laying her down and collapsing next to her. He flung one arm over his eyes.
“Next time you go to the city, buy some more of that underwear. Damn fine investment.”
She chuckled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. I’m looking to build my portfolio.”
He made a noise that sounded like something between a grunt and a laugh. “You keep building your portfolio like that and you’ll put me in an early grave. But I’d least I’d die with a smile on my face.”
“Always happy to oblige.”
She lay on her side and watched him. A moment later his breathing deepened and she knew he’d fallen asleep. She resisted the urge to touch his face, not wanting to wake him.
Making love with Jack was the most amazing thing she’d ever experienced. And the laughter they shared made their time together so special.
She was afraid that was where it ended for him: great sex and good laughs. But for her, being with Jack was more than just the physical. Her emotions became part of the equation the first time they made love.
Would their relationship ever move beyond the physical for Jack?
* * *
That evening Bridget worked the late shift in the bar. Rebecca had said little to her since the previous evening and she worried that she was reverting back into her shell of silence and anger. Despair gripped her heart. They’d come so far in the last few months. If Rebecca chose to cling to the belief that she and Ben would reconcile, Bridget wasn’t sure what she would do.
Several times during the evening she ran up the stairs to check on her. Her daughter answered her questions in monosyllables but offered little else. She locked up the bar shortly after midnight when the last patrons went home.
Mavis was sitting in the kitchen having a cup of tea when she entered their upstairs apartment.
“Hi,” Mavis said, stirring her tea. “How was your evening?”
“It was okay. Kind of quiet tonight.” She looked around the room. “Did Rebecca go to bed?”
“Yes,” Mavis said. “She went to her room a few minutes after I came home.”
She quietly opened her daughter’s bedroom door and peeked inside. Rebecca lay sprawled facedown on the bed, her blanket half on the bed and half off, as if she’d tossed restlessly before finally succumbing to sleep. Bridget covered her with the blanket and kissed her hair.
She left the room and softly closed the door behind her. Mavis set an extra cup on the table.
“It’s herbal. It’ll help you relax before you go to bed.”
She slid into the chair across from her mother and poured herself tea from the pot Mavis had placed on the table. She stirred in a teaspoon of sugar and stared into her cup. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
“Something wrong?”
“No more than usual. Just teenage girl trouble.” She didn’t want to get into the source of her daughter’s moodiness since that would mean talking about Jack. She wasn’t prepared to get into that subject with Mavis. Her mother however, seemed to read her mind.
“Rebecca seems to get along well with Jack,” Mavis said.
“Yes, he’s been very good to her. She loves the horses and she likes Leslie.”
“How is Leslie? I haven’t seen her for a while.”
“She’s fine. She’s a very sweet kid.”
Mavis held the mug to her lips and blew on her hot tea. “Jane says Jack rarely takes her anywhere. She’s either at home or at school. Occasionally he’ll take her to Jane’s house or to Celia and Gavin’s. She’s worried that Leslie is too sheltered.”
“I think she may be right. I’m not sure the school here in Paradise is meeting her needs.”
“Oh? What do you mean?”
Bridget decided to trust her mother with her information. She told her of the research she’d done into Down syndrome. “I’ve been doing a little checking around and I found an excellent school in Bismarck that has great programs for kids with Down syndrome. I’ve called some of the parent references and they’ve been really happy with the progress their kids have made.”
Mavis silently sipped her tea. After a moment she put down her cup and delivered Bridget a level look.
“It sounds as if you’ve become very involved in Leslie’s and Jack’s lives. Just how involved are you?”
She turned her face away, angry with herself for saying too much. “Is this where you tell me to stay away fr
om Jack, that he’s not ready for a permanent relationship? And if you’re planning to remind me that I have a fifteen-year-old daughter to consider, believe me, I haven’t forgotten.”
She got to her feet and took her half-full cup of tea to the sink and dumped it. She turned to Mavis. “Good night, Mother.”
“For heaven’s sake, Bridget. You’re behaving worse than Rebecca. I’m not so stupid that I don’t know you and Jack are sleeping together. You’re a grown woman and if you make a mistake, that’s your business.”
“Thank you.” Her face flamed. Mavis was the last person she wanted to know about her affair with Jack.
“But Rebecca is my granddaughter and that makes her my business. She needs a stable family so she can feel secure.”
“I’m well aware of that. Believe it or not, giving my daughter a stable life is high on my list of priorities.”
“I see.” Mavis poured herself more tea. “Does that mean you and Jack are getting married?”
She looked at her mother in surprise. “Married? No, of course not. Neither of us is talking about marriage.”
“If you’re not thinking about marriage, then where is this relationship going?”
Mavis’s comment hit too close to her own thoughts. “Like you said, I’m a grown woman and I’ll make my own mistakes. Good night, Mother.”
“Bridget, sit down.” She softened her voice. “Please.”
Bridget sighed and took her seat once more. Living under her mother’s roof again made her feel like the recalcitrant, moody girl she’d been at sixteen. Both of them were slipping back into old roles and she hated it.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I wasn’t acting very mature just now, but you have to understand something. I’m an adult. I’ve been an adult for a long time and I’ve been running my life for a long time. I’ve had some failures, most notably my marriage, but I’ve had many successes along the way too. You have to respect that.”
Mavis reached across the table and grasped her hand. “I do respect that and I respect you. I just don’t want either you or Rebecca to get hurt.”
“I appreciate that, Mom.” She extricated her hand. “But I can work this out myself.”
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